‘Well, I am here,’ Aphra said.

‘I have to ask a question, need to know – must know – the answer—’ An indrawn breath. ‘I said, alone,’ Kol hissed.

‘I’m not leaving her. If you wish to speak to me, it’s here or not at all.’

‘Who is it?’

‘It’s Riv. And you have nothing to fear. She cannot hear us.’

‘Why?

‘She is in the grip of a fever. Has been hallucinating for two days. The worst has broken, and now she sleeps like the dead.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes, look.’ Footsteps, a hand clapping over Riv’s head. She didn’t have the energy to open her eyelids, let alone anything else.

‘Why are you here?’ Aphra, a coldness in her voice Riv had never heard before.

‘There is a question that I must ask you.’ A deep sigh, a protracted silence.

‘Ask it, then,’ Aphra said.

‘A storm is coming,’ Kol said. ‘I feel it.’

‘No.’ Aphra said, a denial.

‘You must choose a side.’

‘No. It won’t happen.’

‘He is searching, snooping ever deeper,’ Kol said, the hint of things unsaid in his voice. Agitation, laced with anger. ‘You saw what he did to them, and they were only caught kissing! If he only knew the half of it.’ A pause, footsteps pacing. ‘Can you imagine what he would do?’

‘He is the Lord Protector. He will do what he judges to be right,’ Aphra said.

‘Yes, he will. And that’s exactly what I’m worried about,’ Kol said.

‘The almighty Kol, scared?’

‘Yes, I am.’ A silence. ‘And so should you be. Do not think that the passage of time destroys all things, or even softens them. Time is a healer, you mortals say. Not to us Ben-Elim. A crime is a crime, a grudge a grudge, until the end of days. Blood feud will last an eternity. Israfil is immortal, he sees things differently to you. And he takes his job far too seriously. He is dogmatic, as uncompromising and inflexible as the day Elyon created him. He is very . . . rigid, in his ways, and not afraid to pass judgments with violent ends. To him a sin is a sin; the older it is, the deeper the stain. Do you really think he will view the sins of the past any differently to the sins of the present? Do you?’

A sigh, Aphra shifting.

‘No,’ she said.

‘So, I need to know. When the storm breaks—’

‘If it breaks,’ Aphra said.

‘All right. If the storm breaks; are you with me?’

More pacing. This time a softer footfall, coming to rest beside Riv. A hand upon her brow, gently stroking damp hair from Riv’s face.

‘Leave Riv alone,’ Aphra said.

‘What?’

‘I’ve seen you. I know what you’re doing.’

A gentle laugh.

‘I would deny it, but not to you. None could claim to know me better,’ Kol said, a new tone in his voice. Playful. Mocking.