‘These beacons,’ Kol said, shifting on his seat to look at Aphra.

The wine hasn’t affected his hearing, then.

‘These beacons,’ Kol repeated, louder, conversation nearby stuttering to a halt, silence rippling outwards from him, drawing the attention of the room. ‘Whispers and rumours breed fear and shadows, so I’ll not add to them.’ He stood, a pulse of his wings and he was standing upon the table.

‘Kadoshim,’ he said. ‘They are behind the beacons; that is the information I have been given. What they portend, I do not know.’ He shrugged, wings rippling. ‘What I do know, though, is that we shall watch, and if the Kadoshim move, we shall be ready. The Ben-Elim and their White-Wings protecting the Faithful, as we have done for over a hundred years.’

A cheer roared out from Aphra’s hundred at that, echoing around the vaulted chamber, Riv joining her voice to it. A different sound cut through the roar, closer, higher, a gasp, and Riv saw Estel blinking at Adonai as he whispered in her ear, a shy smile spreading across her blushing face.

Riv frowned; there was something unfitting about the way Adonai lingered too close to Estel.

A memory of the Kadoshim half-breed in the Great Hall, a shiver of revulsion passing through her.

Kol jumped down from his perch on the bench, even that made graceful by the spread of his wings, more glide than crash.

‘Some wine, if you please,’ he said to Riv with a flourish of his cup. As she poured she felt his eyes upon her.

‘Ah, but you’ve the look of your mother about you,’ he said, ‘except for her hair.’ He brushed a hand across Riv’s short-cropped fair hair, still stiff and spiky from sweat and dirt in the weapons-field. ‘And you have your sister’s eyes, which is a compliment.’

Riv felt herself smiling.

‘And her smile,’ Kol said, his own eyes shining with mirth.

‘Riv’s smile and eyes are her own,’ Aphra said curtly as Kol sat. ‘What else can you tell me about these bonfires or beacons?’

‘My thanks,’ Kol said for the wine, giving Riv a shrug and a final rueful smile as he turned to talk to Aphra, as if to say he would have liked to talk more with her.

Riv stood back awhile, just watching the meal go on, topping up wine where desired, clearing trenchers.

Aphra talked quietly with Kol for what seemed like half the evening, and as soon as he left the table Fia leaned close and whispered in Aphra’s ear, her jaw tight, which annoyed Riv, because she wanted to talk to Aphra. And she wanted to eat.

Fia sat as still and stiff as stone as Aphra whispered back to her, then gave a curt nod. Riv shuffled closer, trying to pick out Aphra’s words, but she heard nothing, and then Fia rose and walked away.