Jin kicked her horse on. Riv snarled, clenching her fists, and started after her. Jost was hanging on to her, pleading for her to calm down, to see sense, though she was dragging him across the grass. But the anger had total control again, was putting a fire in her limbs and, even as she knew she shouldn’t be doing this, should be mastering her emotions, she couldn’t. Part of her didn’t even want to try, there was something bittersweet about the surrender, relinquishing the need to think, instead just doing.

A great gust of wind, and a Ben-Elim was alighting between Riv and the shrinking backside of Jin and her horse.

It was Kol, all gleaming mail, golden hair and white teeth.

‘Here,’ he said, throwing something through the air at Riv.

Instinctively she caught it, a practice sword. She looked up and saw Kol coming at her with a weapon raised high, whistling towards her head. Without thinking, she blocked it, rotated her wrist and shoulder, sending it wide, knocking her opponent off balance, and she was swinging her blade at him, all the rage she’d felt a moment ago still there, coursing through her, just focused on something else now. With a savage fury she attacked Kol, chopping, stabbing, lunging, feinting, stabbing again. Her blade connected more times than she missed, hard blows that would leave a tale of bruises, Kol grunting with the pain of them, though he kept grinning the whole time.

‘Feels good, doesn’t it?’ he whispered as she lunged in close, seeking to skewer him, but he stepped to one side, their bodies crashing together.

‘What does?’ she snarled up at him.

‘Letting go,’ he breathed, pushed her with his empty hand and swept his wooden blade at her neck, a blow that would have decapitated her if it were sharp steel.

If it touched me.

Riv ducked, spun away, set her feet.

Kol followed her, their battle resuming, a blur of blows. He landed a few of his own strikes, though with less power than Riv, just letting her know that he could. She shrugged them off, attacking like a force of nature, swirling around Kol, sweat stinging her eyes.

Dimly, Riv became aware of a circle forming around them: Ben-Elim, white-feathered wings and mail shirts bright in the winter sun. She ignored them, continued to batter, spin and hack at Kol, surrendering totally to the emotion that was coursing through her, allowing her anger to have free rein, like a stallion galloping freely, and for a while her anger led her and she allowed her body to follow blindly.