The Ring cheers and roars; the bloodbath below is in full swing. It's a bathroom break and then afternoon tea for our fine diners, and in a show of impromptu generousity, Magnus orders enough for the whole group.

Ritz is antsy. “This is a lot.” He has barely finished his oversized breakfast, and is already being tasked with more.

“I ordered three sets. Take what you want.”

Ritz picks up, but does not bite into, a conspicuously green glob of gelatin lying on a brown slab, on top of a cracker.

“Handing out freebies. You can tell he's losing hope,” Uriel mutters, but not without snapping up a few of the small sandwiches.

“Think of it as a luck ritual. Val wouldn't complain. And this is exactly the kind of thing he'd turn up for. And I don't just mean the chance to eat three peoples' worth of food. Don't you think this - ” Magnus lifts a fluffy pink square. “Is just so ill fitted for a place like this? Get all your teeth bashed out and have a fairy cake or whatever this is. That seems like his kind of thing too”

He tastes a fairy cake. Or whatever it is. It has the consistency and even the taste of aubergine. He finishes it valiantly while Ritz sputters.

“That was mint jelly. Didn't think you'd like it,” Magnus chokes smugly.

“You know everyone so well,” Ritz says.

Uriel is less impressed. “Watching everyone day and night, years of files to look back on, you think he'd know us better.”

“Recordings are boring. Don't I always listen to you two complain in person? I'm not a tyant. People have their rights.”

“Including one, possibly two murderers.”

This does down like any of Uriel's jabs. Magnus doesn't flinch. He pours himself some tea, “People have their rights, animals have their freedom. Those two fall somewhere in the middle.”