Lucian stopped them before the argument could begin in fragments.
They would have sufficient cover for now, the broken highland, the shelf of stone, the open ground with the wind cutting across it, and he wasn't inclined to let them have more. Lirael remained bound under whatever hold Evelyn had on her. The children were on their feet. Marc's face was still a wreck from the rewrite and Silas favored his good arm. The rest waited on Lucian with the quiet finality of people who recognized the order they were about to receive and didn't like it.
"I'm going myself," he announced.
"There are no preliminaries," hissed Marc.
Lucian's head lifted. The others took in the motion and tension rippled through them. "Doing what?" asked Marc.
"Whatever gets rid of the flare," said Lucian evenly, "Cael's grade, the accompanying interest, Alistair. This is mine. Not yours. I'm not breaking the people around me to the front lines of problems I'm encountering."
