Asterot stared at the mirror before him intently. "Can you see me now?" he asked.
The wavery image of Belberith on it stared back. "Very faintly."
"I'm not surprised," said Asterot, resting his chin on his hand. "The Sworn used to use it as a billiard table when Shaddad had them here."
His fellow Dark Lord blinked at that. "Why would they...?"
"Because they could," muttered Asterot. "Why else? They couldn't make it work. Only a Maganza can."
The Dev sighed at that. "Do you have anything that...?"
"Yes, but nothing I trust," snapped the Erl King of Goblins. "The Cthoniques are spying on me. My own subjects are helping them. My own sister is helping them. I am surrounded by spies and traitors! All around me! All the..."
"Then speak more quietly," said Belberith. "My putting up with your... fading in and out will do little good if you alert everyone by shouting at the top of your lungs."
"I'm... sorry," muttered Asterot. "Drank to... steady my nerves. Don't think it worked." He licked his lips. "I just got the news... we have to move soon. The..."
"Your strange little allies failed, yes," said Belberith with a yawn. "Honestly, considering how often they have, I'm surprised you expected anything else." He folded his elegant hands before himself. "Plots and plans are best kept small. Otherwise, they tend to get out of control."
Asterot considered that, and wondered what his partner really thought about their plan. It wasn't a comforting train of thought. "I barely understood what they were planning myself, half the time," he muttered apologetically.
"That is obvious," said Belberith. "Now, as for your wish--we have delayed up until now on your say-so. So your allies could make their attempt and, apparently fail. If you wish us to move now, then we may. It rests entirely on your resolve." He smiled sharply at Asterot. "Doesn't that comfort you?"
Asterot felt his stomach turn, and wished he had a few less drinks before starting this conversation.