Despite his Morganian status Drake was into a degree of fair play. Alright, so attacking Dave in the bathroom hadn't been particularly fair. Nor, when he thought about it, had been coming at them when they were at home. It had been late at night too, to make it even worse. Still, there were rules that he played by.

Hurting the blonde girl, pretty even if she did have bad taste in men, was definitely not fair. It broke about three of his rules in one fell swoop. First off; you warned. Second off you didn't attack bystanders, which was what the girl essentially was. Lastly, you never used magic against those that couldn't use it back. This excluded when there were more than one of them, or when a gun was involved.

He realized vaguely that, if he played by just these three rules, he was a terrible Morganian. Still, he kept them. Nigel Frost had been a rotten Master but Drake hadn't disregarded everything he said. Even idiots had been known to say something brilliant or insightful on occasion.

Good old Nigel. Drake sneered when he gave him that title. He'd taught Drake a very important lesson; people were idiots. Nigel had said many things about the bond of a Master and an apprentice. He'd forgotten them the day he abandoned Drake when he was fifteen. In short this had outraged his sense of fair play. If Nigel had wanted to ensure that his student became a Morganian, then he'd executed plan worthy of a bond villain. His name, Nigel Frost, even sounded like one.

Even so he kept that sense of fairness. It was how he had quickly realized that real Morganians, Morganians like Horvath and Morgana, didn't play by that set of rules. Instead of being somewhat fair with his life he'd become a version of the people who had wronged him in the first place. It made him want to be sick.

Not to mention they were fighting against the boy who'd saved his life. Balthazar was involved too, and some other people, but it was mostly Dave. There was a warped payback for you. He'd done nothing but bully Dave and he'd saved him from getting torn about by a ravenous magical wolf. There was something integrally wrong about that, he was sure.

On top of that, as they chased after them, as his foot was on the accelerator, Horvath was smashing mirrors. He was trying to keep all four of them trapped in that mirror. In the very least he was trying to herd them. Something about it was horribly unfair to Drake. He wanted to stop the car immediately and run away.

Yet, he couldn't. The two people in the car with him were not the type of people you ditched. They were the type of people you took orders from meekly saying 'yes sir' or 'yes ma'am'. Otherwise he could imagine horrible pain waiting for him. So he kept driving, making over exaggerated remarks about how fun it was. All the while he bit his tongue and inwardly kept himself steeled against the unfairness of it all.

.

.

.

"They're smashing the mirrors," Dave said.

"Nicely spotted Dave," snapped Balthazar, trying to accelerate the car.

There was no way that they were going to be able to get to a mirror within the time at this rate. On the other side of the mirror he could see the car that was pursuing them with Horvath smashing each mirror as they went, forcing Balthazar to turn at odd angles and go down different side streets.

"Horvath always did have a very poor sense of fair play," he muttered.

"So, um, what happens if we get trapped in here?" asked Becky from the back.

"I'm not going to talk about it, because we're going to get out of here before it happens," Balthazar said, hearing the note of panic in her voice.

"I guess that means you don't know, huh?" Dave said.

He gave him a side glance. Oh, he knew what happened to people who got trapped permanently inside the Hungarian Mirror Trap alright. He'd read about them when he was an apprentice. They started to stretch out and glimmer until they became a permanent reflection. Even so they could live for hundreds of years, just being shadows of themselves until someone was merciful enough to break the mirror.

Balthazar looked through his review mirror. Veronica was in the back, looking around them. He'd already lived as a reflection of himself for hundreds of years. There was no way he was going to go through it again. Looking forward again he scanned the area for something, anything they could use. Then he saw it.

A large piece of glass was coming loose of its fastenings high above them. Dave saw it too, and his eyes widened.

"No," Dave said, "Balthazar, no."

He jerked the steering wheel towards it, pushing on the accelerator until he thought it would break through the floor of the car.

"We're not going to make it!" Dave cried.

The pane of mirror fell. It enveloped them and Balthazar kept driving. He felt the world flip upside down and backwards for a minute. Briefly he was reminded of a rollercoaster he'd gone on out of sheer curiosity. He admitted later that it had been a mistake. It had flipped him so many times he hadn't known his right from his left at the end. The feeling came back, as well as an overwhelming sense of dizziness.

Then it faded and he was once again driving on the crowded streets of New York.

"Did that teach you to trust me Dave?" asked Balthazar.

"I trust you, I trust you," Dave muttered, "You just scare the hell out of me sometimes. A lot of times. Most times."

Grinning he caught Veronica's eye in the back mirror. She smiled back at him. He was so caught up in her that he was taken by complete surprise when Dave screamed;

"STOP!"

Balthazar slammed on the brakes. In front of them a garbage truck lifted up its visor. He could see Horvath smirking at him and Drake chewing his tongue.

"What's that?" asked Veronica.

Several responses flashed through his mind. In the end it was Dave who answered for him;

"Not good. Drive, drive, drive!"

Obligingly Balthazar set the car into reverse and accelerated out of the alley, the garbage truck following him all the way.