“Silas Octakiseron is not hiding,” she said. “He’s dead.” Both of them looked at her. The Fifth necromancer’s glasses were misting up with the cold, so that her tranquil brown gaze was seen as though through a filmy cataract. “Pardon?” she said. “So is Coronabeth Tridentarius,” Harrow added. “I cannot confirm the fates of the rest of the Third House.”
