Lanwen looked grave. Most of the assembled party appeared uneasy. Levana repeatedly smoothed her robes. Yllis, Beckett's counterpart from Departures, fiddled restlessly with his abacus. Of the gathered party, only Senna looked more or less like her usual self. As she caught his eye, she flashed him a grin.
“So good of you to join us, Beckett. We were waiting for you.” She waved him over, but Beckett coolly walked past her to take a place near Lanwen instead. The Messenger inclined his head.
“I trust something grave must have happened, for you all to be here?” he asked. Lanwen smiled tiredly.
“Aye, grave indeed,” he said. He was about to say something more when Irael ascended the elevated platform usually reserved for the Lord of Stars, and motioned for everyone to be quiet.