face drawn tight with stress. He sighed. “If this is because I didn’t tell you she’d returned—”
“It’s not,” Lazarus said shortly. “Although, while we’re on the subject, I wouldn’t suggest you do that again if you’d like to remain my left-hand.”
“Apparently I’m your only hand, though you won’t tell me why,” Draeven smarted back. He was clearly as much at his end with Lazarus as Lazarus was with him.
“Just as we have spies, so does Nero,” Lazarus said.
“If you really thought I was a spy, I’d already be dead. Be honest with yourself, Lazarus. This is because I kept her existence a secret.” Draeven stood several feet away and seemed to instill himself with the spine to keep going. “I won’t ask your forgiveness for it because I’m not sorry I did it. You lost yourself in your grief, and someone had to make the hard calls. I needed you to focus on the war efforts. She needed you to focus on the war efforts. As it turns out, all our lives are on the line if we don’t win. I can’t—no—I won’t apologize for what I did because that’s what a hand should do when the king is indisposed.”
“You’re right,” Lazarus said.
“What?” Draeven’s face dropped in shock. His lips parted before shaking his head.
“I’m not repeating myself,” Lazarus said, and that seemed to snap his left-hand out of it. “I am angry with you for withholding the truth, but it doesn’t change that it needed to be done. Quinn has convinced me of that, and it’s the reason you are still my hand. That does not mean that I’m giving you permission to do it again, however.” Draeven lowered his eyes at that.
“If that’s not the reason you’re not telling me, then why?”
Lazarus sighed. “I questioned the creature inside of Vaughn. It’s one of Nero’s. As long as he’s using blood magic, I can’t risk all of my plans being with any one of you, except possibly Quinn.”
“Because she can fight it off?” Draeven asked.
“Yes,” Lazarus said, turning on the balcony to look down at the woman in question. She wielded black tendrils in the form of a person to face off against the boy, giving him the chance to actually stab something. She seemed to do this almost lazily, half her attention on the boy and half aimed toward the balcony. Her shrewd gaze met his, and she flashed a wicked grin.
His length stiffened, but Lazarus reined in the urge, turning back to Draeven.
“Is there no way to protect ourselves against blood magic?”
“Not this kind,” Lazarus said. “Nero isn’t taking any chances. It’s clear he’s trying to remove our allies. When that doesn’t work, he’ll turn to the members of my house. I doubt word has reached him of Quinn’s return yet, but it won’t be long.”
“Then what?” Draeven said. “We can’t hide. We can’t protect ourselves. What are you proposing we do?”
“Prepare,” Lazarus said. “Dominicus reported that Nero’s army is starting its march north. We need to be ready for when they reach us. How goes the search for Maji?”
“Decent,” Draeven said. Lazarus could tell he wasn’t pleased with the answer he’d given, but he also didn’t want to let on what he and Quinn were planning. “I’ve gathered a hundred Maji, mostly light and gray, but a few darker ones as well.”
“Any fear twisters or soul eaters?”
“No,” Draeven said. “A good number of beast tamers and healers, though.”
“I’ll speak with Quinn on training them,” Lazarus said.
Draeven frowned. “I assumed—”
“You’d be training them?” Lazarus supplied.
“Yes,” Draeven said, more hesitant than before.
“You’re too soft,” Lazarus replied. Draeven’s frown deepened, and a red glint entered his eyes as anger surfaced.
“I’m too soft to train them, but not the skeevs is what you’re saying?”
Lazarus appraised the man he once considered his closest and only friend.
“You can’t train everyone, and Quinn will likely go too far with skeevs. She holds too much prejudice, and she’s too powerful to risk losing her temper with them. You’re more flexible in this, and she’s more prepared to push the Maji to their edge than you are. She might not be my right-hand in name, but she’s choosing to act as such still.” Lazarus stepped inside his quarters and went to pour a glass of water from the crystal decanter that used to contain spirits. He still struggled with how deep in himself he’d gone for over two months, but slowly was working his way back because he needed to. Quinn had come back, and