While they spoke, Qebhet had fished a pair of sturdy plastic cups from the bag and filled each halfway with the golden beer, before watering it down with the contents of her flask. Usually, her blessed libations soothed the pains of the dead, but there were times when the cooling waters could bring ease to the living as well. Combined with the beer (that brew of the gods, so her followers had believed, that strengthened the body and gladdened the heart), it produced a light, restorative drink with a honey-like flavour and the lingering taste of herbs.
She handed one to Tinsel and placed the other on the coffee table for Luna. "You did," she agreed, and her voice was the soft brush of an ostrich feather. "I'm so sorry you had to."