Saetan was startled when he stepped into his study and found Andulvar looking out the window, his great wings half folded. "…what is it?" He asked, frowning, wondering if something had happened in Askavi.

He turned, and for the first time that Saetan could remember in all the years he'd known the Eyrien, his expression was unreadable. "SaDiablo." His voice was quiet. Subdued, almost, except that Andulvar Yaslana was never subdued.

He paused. "Did something happen?"

"Not yet," Andulvar said in a queer voice, and then sat down, putting a bottle of yarbarah between them. "I brought this. Have a drink with me, SaDiablo."

Saetan sat, almost cautious, and looked at his oldest friend. "What is it, Prince?" Andulvar shook his head.

"Pour yourself a glass. Let's just talk. It's been a while since we did that."

Saetan was getting progressively more worried, but he did as Andulvar said, taking a sip of the blood wine. "You seem preoccupied."

"Aren't we all, just now? It calls to mind old memories, does it not?" Andulvar's smile was ghostly and faint. "But we have something different, this time."

"Jaenelle?"

"Witch," Andulvar corrected, and sipped his own glass, looking distantly thoughtful. "It's been a long time, hasn't it, SaDiablo?"

"It has," Saetan said, cautiously. Surely Andulvar wouldn't ask…not now. No. He pushed that thought away. "In a reminiscing mood, Prince?"

"You could say that." Andulvar paused again. "Have you…has Mephis come by?"

Saetan frowned. "No. Should he have?"

Andulvar sighed, heavily, and nodded once. "It's his choice." He stood, abruptly, and paced to the window, wings opening and closing in a gesture of slight agitation. "…SaDiablo, I'm not going to be her the next couple days. There's…something the waif asked me to attend to."

Saetan nodded. "I understand. We're all going to be busy here. Soon." Andulvar nodded in acknowledgment.

"You'll take care of our Queen." It wasn't a question. Saetan stiffened.

"Of course. As I have." He hesitated. "As we have."

Andulvar nodded. "Just remember…" He trailed off. Sighed. Shook his head. "Take care, SaDiablo."

"If I knew what you were talking about," Saetan began, with a touch of irritation. Andulvar shook his head.

"I'm sorry. I can't talk about it." He hesitated, a bare moment. "It has been a long time. To wait." Andulvar crossed to Saetan and set a hand on his shoulder, gaze proud, and fierce, and stern. "But I'm glad I got to see it come."

"Andulvar, tell me what is going on," Saetan nearly snarled, progressively more worried. He seized his friend's arm. "What are you planning and why won't you tell me?"

Andulvar detached him easily and stepped back, and there was something sad in his eyes. "I can't, Saetan. The waif needs me. The Queen needs me." He bowed his head, once, ever so slightly. "It's an honor to have known you, High Lord."

"Prince," Saetan said, stiffly, and took a step forward. Andulvar stepped back.

"Darkness embrace you, SaDiablo." Then he was gone, winging off into the twilight sky. Saetan stared after him, his heart sinking within him.

"High Lord?" He turned. Beale stood in the doorway, his expression one he'd never seen on the man, holding a piece of paper. "A missive for the Lady. I thought it best I brought it to you."

Saetan strode to him, his heart sinking within him. Andulvar gone…he realized he hadn't asked the Demon Prince when he was coming back. He suspected, suddenly, that his oldest friend wouldn't have answered. "From?"

"It's not signed," Beale said quietly. Saetan took the note and read through it once. It didn't need a signature. He felt his eyes go cold and turned to go to his study.

"High Lord?"

"I'll take care of it, Beale," Saetan said, almost a croon. Jaenelle wasn't answering him. Refused to do anything. And his oldest and only friend was gone.

There was only one option left to take.