A Time of Dread (Of Blood and Bone #1) - John Gwynne Page 0,62

empty cup out to Riv and she poured some more wine.

She doesn’t usually drink like this.

‘What do you make of the news?’ Riv said to her sister, as much to distract her and somehow shift her mood with Fia as anything else. Aphra looked up at her, an unfocused stare for a moment, as her mind lingered on whatever she had been talking about with Fia.

‘News? You mean the beacons?’

‘Aye.’ Riv nodded. Word had reached Drassil, spreading through the White-Wings faster than fire through a summer-dry forest, that blazing bonfires had been spied throughout the Land of the Faithful, and even further afar, in Ardain to the west, and the Desolation to the north. Rumours of unrest were spreading along with them. Rumours of human sacrifice, like the body that Ethlinn and Garidas had discovered in the Kadoshim lair where they had captured the half-breed.

Aphra shrugged, draining her cup and holding it out for some more. ‘I shall do as a good soldier does, and wait on the word of my commanders,’ she said. ‘You could always ask him, though.’ She nodded at Kol, who was sitting beside her, though he was turned away, his wings taking up a space of their own. He was laughing good-naturedly with Adonai and one of Aphra’s captains, Estel, blonde-haired and recently promoted.

‘Not that he seems too concerned,’ Aphra commented.

‘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.

Now’s my chance to ask permission to eat! I’m starving!

A loud call, nearby.

Riv ground her teeth.

It was her friend Vald, sitting on a bench with a dozen White-Wings, brandishing his drinking cup, calling loudly for Jost to fill it for him.

He’s only a few moons past his Long Night, and before that stood in the line with