Chapter 7: The Wall

Wes lay awake until the candle died, with Brigid's arm across his waist.

"Sera," he whispered. "What did you mean?"

The temple voice took a moment to answer.

"The class is mine to give," she said quietly. "That's all. It's a figure of speech."

"That's not what it sounded like."

"Go to sleep, Wes."

She did not speak again, and he slid out from under Brigid's arm and went up to the wall.

The night air was cool. The marsh was black, and a thin moon lay in the reeds.

Tamsin sat on the parapet with her boots hanging over the drop and a flask in her hand.

"Couldn't sleep either?" she said.

"Something like that."

She patted the stone beside her, and he sat.

For a while neither of them said anything.

"The captain's door was open," Tamsin said at last. "I walked past it. I'm not sorry I did."

"Tamsin."

"I'm not angry." She turned the flask in her hands. "I'm a thief, Wes. I don't expect to be first at anything."

"Brigid doesn't own me."

"No. But she's got years of wanting and she spent a lot of it tonight."

She grinned at him sideways.

"I was curious who'd be left."

"You're asking if I'm tired."

"I'm asking if there's anything left for the second most interesting woman at Ravenmoor."

Wes looked at her.

She was small and sharp-faced in the moonlight, with freckles across her nose and her scarf blowing in the wind.

He was suddenly aware of how close she was sitting.

"I told Brigid I can't promise anything past launch day," he said. "I'll tell you the same."

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