"And he killed the dragon?"

"Yes," Horvath said, "Unassisted."

Morgana's nails dug into plush cover of the sofa she was sitting on. Her lips were bloodless and her whole face was full of wrinkles. Even her red hair had taken a white tint in recent years. The longevity spells weren't working the way they used to, and they had to do them more frequently to avoid her turning into ash. Horvath wondered if she was dying for real this time, but he kept such thoughts to himself.

"It might be worth noting, my lady," said Horvath, "That he still had his ring on when he was using magic. He has not yet reached the level where-"

"Or he could just be wearing it because it is a sign of Merlin's power," Morgana snapped, "Unlike you I am not comforted by this. You should have tried harder to kill him when he was younger."

Horvath bit back a sneer. The closest he had ever gotten to killing him had been when he planned to drain him for Morgana's continuing youth. Back then he hadn't known that the boy was the Prime Merlinian. Dave had just been a plucky and incredibly squeaky child with no respect.

Once again he thought it best to hold his tongue. He did add a shamed head bow. Morgana's nails were very close to ripping open the fabric of the couch. He had seen those nails rip through skin on several occasions. He held no doubts; Morgana might be getting old but that didn't mean she was getting weaker.

"But I don't think he's opened the Grimhold yet," said Morgana, "Because then Veronica would have rushed to his side too."

That was probably true. Horvath definitely would have noticed if Veronica had been there, and though it made him burn inside, he knew she'd follow Balthazar wherever he went.

"So we have some time. Not much, but a little."

She tapped her lips thoughtfully. It sounded like chalk hitting paper.

"You told me that you recruited a local Morganian," Morgana said.

Wincing Horvath said;

"He's not what you call, orthodox…"

"He will do fine for the time being," Morgana said with a dismissive wave of her hand, "Do we know where the Prime Merlinian frequents?"

Reaching into his pocket Horvath took out an NYU Student Store Discount card. He threw it onto the coffee table.

"I found this in his apartment. He goes to school at a local university."

Morgana frowned. She didn't keep a hand on current events or developments, believing it wasn't worthy of her attention. Horvath knew that it would serve as her Achilles' heel, but she had him to organize things for her. It was just another way that he proved how useful he was to her, how she couldn't work without him.

"It's a school of higher learning."

She snorted.

"It shouldn't be too hard to find him there," said Horvath.

"Good," said "This new Morganain, his name is Drake is it?"

"Yes," Horvath said.

"An interesting name," said Morgana, "He would, I think, act as a nice guard."

"What do you mean?" asked Horvath.

Morgana smiled, displaying her fang-like teeth.

"I think it's time we had a little chat with the Prime Merlinian. Make sure he can't be persuaded that his best interests lie elsewhere."

.

.

.

"Whoa."

"We're in for a long night," Balthazar said, taking his eight sandwiches out of a large bag, "We've some busy days ahead of us and it's going to be important to eat up; get your energy going."

Dave nodded before taking a big bite of his sandwich. Upon going back into the subway turnaround Balthazar had been relieved to find his apprentice was still there. He had hoped that he would be; but Balthazar's hopes had gone unfulfilled so often in the past that he didn't have much faith in them.

His spirits had lifted even higher when Dave had looked up. His face had been grim and set. He'd said, in no uncertain terms;

"Let's do this."

They had settled down to several hours of work. Balthazar had even made some holographic images of Horvath. Dave had hesitated for a minute before attacking them. The more they fought the more confident he became. If Dave was scared then he was learning to work through his fear.

"That's all bravery is in the end," Balthazar had reassured him, "Working through fear."

As he took a bite of his own sandwich Balthazar looked at his apprentice with pride. Everything he had seen over the past hours had been a testament to the character Balthazar was sure had been developing. He had been scared in the past but he was now confident that Dave would never let himself get caught in that situation again.

There was only one last thing puzzling him about that night.

"Is there something special about this particular bench?" he asked.

Dave squirmed. Just then the doors to the building across from them opened. A pretty blonde girl about Dave's age walked out. Balthazar didn't give her much thought, until he saw Dave's expression. It was a mixture between infatuation and love, attraction and wanting. He'd seen it enough in the mirror to know what it was.

"Oh no," he moaned.

"It's Becky," Dave said excitedly, "Can you believe it's her? I saw her this morning and she recognized me. I didn't think she would after all these years but-"

"Dave, I think it's very interesting that you've found your childhood crush again," Balthazar said, ignoring the surprised look on Dave's face, "But if Morgana catches you on the street with her then you're dead. Is she worth that?"

Dave sent a longing look after her. Then he scrambled up.

"Don't eat my sandwich," he ordered.

Balthazar watched him go, feeling dismayed and frustrated. It was happening all over again.

"Why was I even concerned?" he muttered to himself.