Lucivar set the metal bucket on the opposite end of the worktable and watched Saetan pour fresh blood into a bowl of simmering liquid. “I thought you would be at the Hall, waiting for the reports to come in.”

“Draca sent for me,” Saetan replied, lightly stirring the bowl’s contents. “What brings you here?”

“Morton is dead.”

Saetan’s hand hesitated a moment, then resumed stirring. “I know.”

Lucivar tensed, then said cautiously, “He’s in the Dark Realm?”

“No, he’s here. That’s why Draca sent for me. He came to report.”

Lucivar paced restlessly. “Good. I’ll talk to him before—”

“No.”

The implacable tone in Saetan’s voice stopped him—for a moment. “I don’t care if he’s demon-dead now.”

“He does.” Saetan’s voice gentled. “He doesn’t want to see you, Lucivar. Not any of you.”

“Why in the name of Hell not?” Lucivar shouted.

Saetan snarled. “Do you think it’s easy making the transition? Do you think anything will be the same for him? He’s dead, Lucivar. He’s a young man who will never do a great many things now, who is no longer who and what he used to be. There are reasons why the dead remain, for the most part, among the dead.”

Lucivar resumed his pacing. “It’s not like the First Circle isn’t used to being around the demon-dead.”

“You didn’t know them when they walked among the living,” Saetan said softly. “There were no ties with them that needed to be cut. Yes, the ties do need to be cut,” he said, overriding Lucivar’s protest. “The living have to move on—and so do the dead. If you can’t respect that, at least respect the fact that he needs time to adjust before he has to deal with the rest of you.”

Lucivar swore softly. “How bad…?”

Saetan set the spoon down and moved to the other end of the table. “The wounds aren’t visible when he’s dressed. In fact, they wouldn’t have been fatal if the arrows hadn’t been poisoned.”

“Poisoned,” Lucivar said flatly as he stared down at the bucket.

“There’s not much Morton could tell you, and without more information, even what he knows doesn’t help us much.”

Lucivar pointed at the bucket. “You may find your answers in there.”

Saetan lifted the dark cloth, looked inside the bucket, then let the cloth drop.

“Kaelas,” Lucivar said, answering the unspoken question.

“I see,” Saetan said quietly. “You’re returning to Ebon Rih?”

Lucivar shook his head. “I’m taking a few men to the Dark Altar in Glacia to look around, see if there are any answers there.”

“Our Queen’s order was quite direct,” Saetan said mildly.

“I’ll risk her anger.”

Saetan nodded. “Then, as Steward of the Court, I formally request that you go to the Dark Altar in Glacia to determine what happened.”