Lirael blinked, making a surprised little 'hmm' noise. "My sister had a similar story, with a similar name. Kerrigor. Only his 'assassins' were dead. Necromancer." She shook her head a bit, quieting once Dream stepped in.
Dream nodded slightly, his expression still worried. He cast a somewhat disparaging look at Lirael, as if to blame her and all of her talk of necromancy for upsetting his lady. He didn't say anything, though. His fingers closed lightly around a lock of Candy's hair and he brushed the back of his hand down her cheek as he stroked her hair. It was a terribly public display of affection, but it would mark her as his, in case any of the other attendees hadn't realized it yet.
When it looked like Dream planned on staying at Candy's side, Lirael continued. "It's fine, though. I had a start too, when I saw one of the masks." She craned her neck, looking for a bronze face out of the sea of masked guests. "There. That mask is the spitting image of the one Chlorr of the Mask wore back home. She was a necromancer, brought back as one of the Greater Dead.. Seeing that was enough to make me wish I'd brought more than my pipes tonight. But nothing's happened. For so many powerful people to be here at once, I suppose they must have some sort of truce." It was lucky Jareth had stayed her hand when she first saw the mask. She couldn't imagine the penalty of breaking a truce like that.