"Fuck magic." Is bravado, and the second they find someone's seen a live body he'll change his tune. He's ready to flatter, threaten, even pay the nearest mage to lay hands on this. Oughta be cheaper than the ass. "Never around wh –"

One. Bellows hard out his throat on a lungful of air, squeaking into wheeze when that runs short. Every language has words for this. He can't think of them just now.

Lazar takes a moment. Takes another. Casts big wet dog eyes up to the ceiling, and:

"That's a dirty trick."

Sounds a little like admiration.