‘I think you are more bad-tempered than I am,’ she muttered, patting the bear’s neck.

CHAPTER EIGHT: RIV

CHAPTER EIGHT

RIV

Riv cursed under her breath, a continuous muttering as she scrubbed the floor of one of the many communal latrines in Drassil. It was early and she was on latrine duty, not her favourite of tasks at the best of times, but even less so today. Her sleep had been troubled with bad dreams. In the light of day they were ephemeral, only a vague memory of weightless, endless falling.

‘What’s that?’ Carsten said. Just like Riv, he was the child of a White-Wing, born in Drassil and raised to become a warrior of the White-Wings. He was a year younger than Riv, as were all on the latrine team with her; because she had failed her warrior trial, all of her friends were training on the weapons-field as White-Wings, but not her.

‘For my shame,’ she muttered, then looked up at him. ‘What’s what?’

Carsten was supposed to be pouring buckets of water over the long stone seating block that Riv had just scrubbed, but he had stopped. The walls behind him were filled with pastel depictions of Ben-Elim casting Kadoshim from the skies, a reminder of the great sacrifice they had made to protect mankind from the evil of the demon horde. Riv was just about to give Carsten a piece of her mind for shirking his duties when he said it again.

‘What’s that?’ he said, and then she heard it, filtering in through the unshuttered window and open doorway. The blowing of horns.

‘That’s the call to the Lore Chamber,’ Riv said, leaping to her feet. Usually the Lore Chamber convened once a ten-night: Israfil and his captains gathering in Drassil’s Great Hall and sitting in judgement upon all manner of issues brought before them, whether they be disputes between residents of Drassil, petty charges of drunkenness or minor disobediences to more serious matters, even murder.

But the next meeting’s not due for another four nights.

The horns blew again.

‘Come on,’ Riv said, making for the open doorway.

‘But, the latrines,’ Carsten said.

‘It’s excrement, it’ll still be here when we’re done.’ Riv strode out into the streets of Drassil, hearing Carsten following her.

The streets were full, all those not on essential duties making their way to the great chamber of Drassil.

‘What’s going on?’ Riv asked a White-Wing in the street.

‘Ethlinn and Garidas are back,’ she said.

The horns blew again and Riv began to run, feeling aches in her joints that hadn’t been there a few days ago.

Can’t sleep, and I’m aching like I have a fever. I’ll visit the healers when I have some time.