The Hall was a grand and glorious work, sculpted from living tree and stone, all intertwined insular. It had doors hewn from ancient redwood and all the metal fixings were made of godstrengthened gold.

Sif had never been inside it, but he was already immune to the majesty of such godly architecture. He knew before he went in that the tapestries would be of silk, the rugs of wool, and the furniture of oak and ebony.

The youth with feathers in his hair escorted him in, also largely ignoring the chandeliers dripping jewels and the giant murals of the seven main gods.

" A senior messenger will be waiting to accompany you," he said. " I think it's Leánh. It's been a while since he returned to the heavens."

And that was it.

Sif was shown to a varnished birch door and practically kicked through.

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