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Chapters (50)
  1. Cover
  2. About the Author
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. Acknowledgements ♦ Diolchiadau
  50. THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING

A silence fell between them, the Doctor feeling the weight of the compass in his hands. He held it a long time before prising the case open with his fingernail. It clicked open. Hamza listened to the familiar sound. The Doctor looked at the compass and smiled. The chain lying heavy in his lap. A pause. ‘You know they were made to tell your fortune originally … wind roses, compasses.’ He paused. ‘They weren’t made to tell direction, they were made to tell you what your future would bring.’ He looked at the pin as it spun. Held it flat in the middle of his palm. His brow becoming furrowed. ‘Then again, perhaps it’s best we don’t know. Don’t you think?’ Hamza heard a soft smile in his voice as he snapped the compass case shut. There were voices outside. Owens. The changing of the guard. The Doctor placed the compass on the bed. Got up. There was a rattling of keys.

‘Think about it.’ The Doctor pretended to take Hamza’s pulse once more. Owens leant into the room and scanned it.

‘He’s not scheduled a medical visit,’ he barked. The Doctor let Hamza’s wrist go and gave him a tight smile.

‘I know, I was passing. It’s part of the medical oath. To keep an eye. You know that, surely.’

Owens studied him. ‘Come on,’ he said, sparing his elder no civility. The Doctor picked up his bag. Owens stood in the doorway, forcing the Doctor to turn sideways to pass him. The door slammed shut once again, and Hamza’s eyes flickered open.

3

Drift ♦ Drifftio ♦ Almaghzaa

‘WHERE ARE YOU GOING?’ Her brother was stuffing clothes into a waterproof bag. He didn’t even look up. ‘Joseph?’

‘I’ll be back in a few weeks.’

Nefyn stood in the bedroom doorway, blocking his path. ‘You just came back.’

Joseph shrugged, trying not to look at her.

‘I won’t be long.’

‘But why?’ Nefyn searched his face. He turned to find his papers before pushing them into his back pocket. His voice rose sharply.

‘We need the money, Nefyn.’

Nefyn’s eyes ran everywhere like water. ‘It’s a girl, isn’t it? You didn’t used to go so often.’

Joseph stopped for a moment. ‘It’s not a girl.’

‘Just tell me if it is.’

‘It’s not a girl, I said.’ His voice was loud within the confines of the feet-thick stone walls, the low ceilings. ‘There’s a boat, they’re paying well,’ he mumbled.

‘And you’d rather be anywhere than here.’

‘Don’t be stupid.’