Chapter 2

"Damn the Light, Gesar! How many times do we have to go over this!" Zabulon was pacing rapidly up and down the Light One office. "You've seen the tape, you've had it analyzed, you seen the files, the reports, you know, for once, I'm telling the truth. Cant you put your mistrust aside for just a few moments?"

Gesar sat stoney-faced, devoid of any visible emotion, watching the Moscow Dark Leader working himself up into a frenzy. Zabulon was growling to himself, almost bestial in sound, his human form wavering in the only way it did when he was either exhausted, angry or agitated. Eventually he threw himself into the chair by the door, almost in a child-like sulk, and stared hard at Gesar.

Gesar stood up and walked to the window. The room was stifling as the heat of the day poured in through the window, but he didn't have a bead of sweat on him. He was chilled to the bone, but wasn't going to show it to Zabulon. He already knew something was going to happen, was happening, he had intelligence sources the same as Zabulon, but what to do eluded him. He was, quite literally, out of his depth, for the first time in his long life. A world wide mirror, if that what was Lorah had predicted, was unprecedented, had never happened before, and he didn't know how to respond. A question sprang to mind.

"Have you informed the inquisition yet?"

Zabulons face lit up. "Of course! Let them decide what to do!"

"Not so much decide, as inform the rest of the world."

Zabulon slumped. "I never though of that either. Although I did order an immediate inventory of all the artifacts the Dark can have ready at a moments notice. In case it isn't a mirror but something else."

Gesar frowned at him, to say such a thing, the admission of having undeclared artifacts, showed how rattled Zabulon was. Even though Gesar had enough of them of his own, it was usually an excepted norm that, unless unusually powerful, they were overlooked. And newly created ones didn't even have to be registered unless they has a specific use.

"I will contact the inquisition." Gesar put the call out through the twilight, the traditional way for a unspecific called meeting, and then they waited. The silence was only permeated by the slow ticking of an antique clock stood in the corner of the office, a present to Gesar many years before....the giver long since dead...even their memory faded. Gesar sat back at his desk, Zabulon fidgeted in the chair, they knew it could be a long wait.

An hour past before a door sized portal opened in the middle and a member of the inquisition stepped through, instantly recognizable by their sheer manner and aloofness. Dressed in an immaculate designer suit, he stood looking at the two watch heads, an eyebrow raised in a questioning manner. Clearly previously a Dark Other, the mannerisms unmistakeable even if there were no tell-tale aura, Zabulon knew he wouldn't get any favoritism from this one, even if he tried.

"Good afternoon Inquisitor. Thank you for answering my call." Gesar stood and bowed, Zabulon did the same. The Inquisitor surveyed the room briefly and then his eyes settled on the pair of them.

"It was a direct summons, I didn't have much choice. A direct call must be answered, I hope it is worth the time." He sounded almost petulant. "Last time the Inquisition were involved with the watches was extremely costly to all parties. I hope it isn't something of a similar manner this time?"

"I have a serious matter to put to the council of Inquisitors regarding the balance. I have a dossier here for there immediate attention, and I mean immediate, concerning another, possible mirror."

Gesar handed the box-sized file to the Inquisitor.

The distaste was in the Inquisitors voice. "I don't thing the high council would concern themselves with a mirror at this moment in time." In a gentler, almost apologetic tone he continued. "After the incidences recently, first the Fuaran, then at Edinburgh, and now...recently, I don't think the Inquisition is in a position to give much help. But I will convey this straight to them to decide for themselves, as your request, and convention, demands. Although I do not give much hope of a helpful answer."

He bowed to the two watch leaders, then, reopening the portal, left with the file.

Gesar looked at Zabulon questioningly, but Zabulon replied "Not one I know, at least not one who's worked in my watch. The Inquisition has been recruiting heavily recently, the same as ourselves, it must mean there numbers are being depleted to. After all, Inquisition or not, they are all still Others, the same as the rest of us."

"Hence the veiled reference to being unable to help." Gesar stared out of the window again. "Well until we here back from them officially I think we can assume we are on our own....again."

"So what now?"

"We have to think of a way to readdress the balance." Gesar held up his hand before Zabulon could answer, "....Yes I know your thoughts on the matter, even though I don't wholly concur with them."

"Well surely you can see where the imbalance lies? Its that brat that your side took too soon. Yes I know she would be yours eventually, I'm not arguing that point, its just the timing was wrong."

"It isn't like we had much choice, not during the Edinburgh incident. I knew there would be repercussions but I also didn't think the twilight had the strength to create a mirror yet either." He stared at Zabulon knowingly. "Of course it might not be our 'advantage' its coming for......"

"What else could it be?" Zabulon countered, not taking the bait. "You know as well as I do that she will be a true zero point, an Ultimate, and we have nothing to match it; Not anywhere in the world, to my knowledge, is there a Dark zero pointer. But we do have an uninitiated, and potential, Great One, not zero, but possibly close, floating around out there. If you hadn't interfered we would have him already."

Gesar turned back to the window. "Repercussions throughout time."

"What?"

"Oh nothing... something mentioned to me many years ago." Gesar pointed to the ancient clock. "I haven't thought about them in years, but the person who gave me that clock once said 'A moments haste can cause repercussions throughout time'. I always thought I knew what they meant, but I never truly did until now."

"So.......?"

Gesar bowed his head in resignation, pressing his forehead to the sun-heated glass. "Egor......must become a Dark One. Its not going to go down easy with someone we both know, you know?"

"Anton." Zabulon smirked. "Does he even have to know?"

Gesar's piercing stare made Zabulon uncomfortable for a moment. "So how you you hope to achieve this initiation. You know Egor has always evaded all attempts to even contact him, never mind an Other getting close enough to trick him into initiation. Even uninitiated, hes been in the twilight, he can see us a mile off."

"Well who does Egor still trust?" The Dark Other was smirking, he knew who already, only one Other had been able to approach Egor since the night with the Chalk and Book of Destiny.

"Are your faculties fading after all these years? How can a Light initiate a Dark?"

"Trick him?"

"Impossible in this case, Egor would know, and with his potential power it would take a Higher at least to do it. Anton is the right level, but the wrong alignment. And I doubt you'll ever get him to change."

"Not even to save his brat?"

"He wouldn't know how....he might have dark moods on him at times, but his soul is Light."

Zabulon paced over to Gesar without a word and handed him a photocopied sheet. Gesar took it and for a moment looked at it puzzled. Then as realization struck, a mask of creeping horror covered his face.

"How did you get this!?" Gesar hissed furiously. "How did you get a photostat from that damn book?"

"Arina was one of ours before she was one of yours you know? And no, I don't have it all, so the mistakes will not be repeated, even I can see the foolishness in that. But I did think that one day this particular spell might come in useful."

"When? This is an abomination to the order of things, if the Inquisition knew you had this...."

"They already knew what was in that book. Read it carefully then, if it offends your sensibilities. There is a way."

Gesar stared at the page. The words seemed to blur before his eyes, but he could see the meaning, and the way.

"Its dangerous.....and it would need more power than I could raised." Gesar realised in saying that, he had suddenly committed himself to the abominable path.

Zabulons eyes shone in victory. "I've already got, locked in the vault at our HQ, all the basic power artefacts I can get.....I have witches preparing more. Surely you have a back-up supply as well?"

"But that would leave us dangerously expose if you ever decided to attack."

"Oh don't be stupid man, neither of us will be in an attack position for years and you know it."

Gesar glanced back at the paper. "I'll get the archive list together immediately"

He couldn't help feeling he had been manoeuvred into the situation, and that there was far more to it than it seemed. But he also couldn't see any way out of it..........

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Zabulon stepped out of the portal back into his own office, and immediately called his archive, ordering the release and collection of the artefacts. Then he accessed the internet on his laptop, entered a site and typed in a heavily encoded password. A basic message screen opened before him. His eyes flashed as he simply typed 'Situation taken and accepted. Went as planned. Revenge will be mine.' He hesitated before pressing the send button, then deleted the revenge part of the message. As he sent the message he thought to himself 'No need for the world to know.....yet.'

Zabulon looked at the clock.....7.13pm, in two minutes time there would be nine days left. So little time, so much to do. He rubbed his temples, fatigue always brought on a headache, and it had been days since he had slept properly, 36 hours since any sleep at all. He tried a healing spell, but he had never been much good at them, and there was no chance he was going to ask one of the healing witches. A battle wound was one thing, but sheer tiredness was a weakness, and he never showed weakness to anyone, if it could be prevented.

The coffee percolator was stood at the far end of the room, a quick heat spell had the jugs contents steaming hot. Zabulon walked over and lifted the jug to pour a cup, hesitated, then poured the whole lot still at boiling point down his throat.

The searing pain cleared his tired mind faster than any caffeine could. He roared in pain and elation, the blinding agony was his pleasure, its sweet hurting caressing his soul. His breathing began to rattle in his blistered throat though...Damn a human form, its restrictions on his pleasure levels. He began violently shaking, the first sign of medical shock. He staggered over to the intercom and pressed it. He tried to talk, but no sound came out. He tried to a least heal his larynx enough to summon help, but he couldn't, the pleasure/pain distracted him too much, soothed and inflamed him too much.

Eventually he manage a small "Help......". Within less than a minute, a Dark healer entered, the look on the healers face showed no surprise, the scene too familiar. Without uttering a word he placed his hands on Zabulons neck and began a highly sophisticated and rapidly working spell. The ability to breathe returned, but Zabulon waved the healer away before all the damage had been repaired.

"No! Pain keeps me focused...enough!"

The Healer bowed and retreated from the room, fear mixed with disgust mingled on his visage.

'He's much better like that,' Zabulon though '...with the tongue taken out. No more preaching when I need the pain. One of my best healers, too good to kill when he became a vocal liability.....' a sneer '...sometimes success is its own failure.'

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