Elzar grunted. “Oh, I don’t worry for myself. But it doesn’t become the nobility to go around spouting apocrypha. Not unless they mean to be prophets or martyrs.”

Rosa felt her patience slip a notch. “We’ll just have to restrain ourselves.”

Her reward was a toothy smile. “I imagine so. This concerns Konor Belenzo, and the overthrow of the Tyrant Queen.”

Lilyana folded her arms. “I served at high altar for over twenty years. I embraced the twelve mysteries and know the Books of Astarria by heart. There is nothing you can tell me about Konor Belenzo that I don’t already know.”

Elzar’s grin broadened. “Then you know all about those who stood with him at the end.”

“Belenzo faced Malatriant alone,” said Lilyana. “Without Lumestra’s light, he would never have triumphed.”

“No. That’s what scripture claims.”

Malachi stirred. “It’s what history records.”

“And the one is built upon the other, and maybe neither of them true. Tressian history is so often fiction, and faith calls for simplicity where life is anything but. I’ve heard many accounts that Belenzo was but one of several who fought the Tyrant Queen.”

“We shouldn’t be listening to this,” said Lilyana. But she made no move to leave.

“It’s myth. One step removed from story. And stories have only the power you give them. It does no harm to listen.” He shrugged. “Malatriant drew her power from the primal Dark that existed before the light. Could one god stand against that? Could one divine champion?”

“One did,” said Lilyana flatly. “He was martyred for his courage . . .”

“. . . but through his sacrifice, he ushered Malatriant into the Raven’s embrace.” Elzar nodded. “I can quote scripture too. But you’re missing the point.”

“Which is?” asked Malachi.

Elzar extended a hand. Golden light crackled from fingertip to fingertip. “Scripture tells that Belenzo’s blessing revealed itself in his blood, for it shone with light. The same golden light that was essence to the serathi. Now, I wield Lumestra’s light, but my blood is as red as yours – begging your pardon, Lady Orova – though I’ll be thankful if you don’t ask me to prove it.”

“A point, high proctor,” said Lilyana, her tone now distinctly unfriendly. “You promised a point.”

He snapped his fingers. Light leapt towards the ceiling and dissipated into nothingness. “It’s simply this. If Konor Belenzo bled light, can we be certain he any longer bled as ordinary folk do?”

“You’re saying Rosa is as Belenzo was? Blessed by Lumestra?” asked Malachi.

“Not quite. I’m sure you’d have mentioned if she bled light. But if Lumestra’s favour revealed itself in the blood, and if Belenzo had comrades similarly blessed, but by other divinities . . .”

“. . . then I am cursed,” said Rosa through a throat thick with despair. “The kernclaw gave me to the Raven, and he has marked me for his own. I deserve the pyre.”