The mirror showed a face far more pleasant than Jason Cameron's wolf-visage, and Paul du Mond chuckled to his reflection as he prepared for bed. His trip into Pacifica for dinner had been a fruitful one, for he had no sooner settled down to a very satisfactory meal than who should stroll into the tiny inn by the sea but Simon Beltaire!
As if it had been planned ahead of time, the inn was crowded and there were no free tables available. Paul was able to offer the 'stranger' a seat at his own without looking like anything other than a polite gentleman. The owner of the restaurant had been relieved and grateful that Paul was so accommodating. They had made mock- introductions to each other with perfectly straight faces, and Beltaire had ordered his own meal as soon as the waiter hurried up to tend to the new arrival.
'I believe that Cameron attempted a Working tonight,' Paul had said casually, when he thought they would not be overheard in the general chatter.
'He will not get far with it.' Beltaire had chuckled, stroking his goatee with evident satisfaction. 'I have reason to believe that I hold the only manuscript with the key to his troubles, and needless to say, I have no intention of allowing him to have it.'
Du Mond chuckled to himself at the memory of the cruel glint in Beltaire's dark eyes. The Firemaster intended to make Cameron suffer as long as possible before striking, that much was obvious to even a dullard. Not that du Mond blamed him for such intentions. Watching one's enemies suffer was one of the few totally pure pleasures in the world, and Cameron had been Beltaire's enemy for as long as du Mond had known of the existence of the Firemasters.
It had been a good dinner, and it had not been marred by Jason's surliness on his return. He untied his tie and put it and his collar away, fastidiously hanging the tie on a special rack and curling the collar just so in the wooden collar-box.
Beltaire's appearance was no accident; he had indeed arranged their meeting, for the Firemaster had told him so in as many words. 'I have been waiting for you here in the town for some days now. I needed to speak with you urgently. I would like you to do two things for me,' he had said. 'First, I wish to repeat my request to plant as many doubts in that Hawkins girl's mind about Cameron as you can over the course of the next two weeks. And second, I would like you to find some way to persuade Cameron to lodge you permanently in San Francisco or Oakland before Christmas.'
Nothing would have suited Paul better, but he had been both surprised and cautious that Beltaire should bring the second request to him. 'Is there a reason?' he asked.
Beltaire had nodded. 'I would like to have you available to me for an extended period of time. I wish to probe your memories of Cameron, his methods, and everything to do with his Magickal Work. If I am to defeat him, I need intimate knowledge that only you possess, and it will take time to plumb your memories for that much knowledge.'
'And what do I receive in return?' Du Mond had not been at all shy in demanding that answer immediately. If he was going to be at Beltaire's beck and call, it had damned well better be worth his time!
The answer had been very satisfactory, and Paul smiled whitely at his reflection. Beltaire promised, with vows that no Firemaster would break, that he would initiate Paul into the paths that the noted magician Aleister Crowley had pioneered; he described the methods of Crowley's followers in detail, and Paul had been very impressed. These were paths that Paul found more to his liking, and along the same line as the book Beltaire had given him-the acquisition of Magickal Power by means of Sex Magick and the use of drugs to probe directly into the realms of the occult, rather than the tedious means that Cameron insisted upon. There would be no more memorizations or thumbing through half-legible manuscripts; this was the shortcut to Power that Paul had known instinctively existed, but that Cameron had denied him. There was no reason, in this modem day and age, to confine oneself to methods used by the ancients for no better reason than 'tradition!' After all, it was 'traditional' to light the night with candles rather than electricity, 'traditional' to cross country by horseback rather than the railroad. Why should modem means be excluded from the pursuit of Magick? He had never been able to understand why a man like Cameron, so modem in every other way, was so stubborn when it came to modernizing Magick.
Beltaire had even hinted that use of such Magick did not confine one to the Mastery of only one of the Elements, but allowed the control of all four!
'I was able to subdue that Chinaman's Sylphs when he tried to hide the slave I had purchased,' Beltaire had said. I drove them away long enough to give him proper punishment for his impertinence. Cameron could not have done that. 'I will be a greater Master than Cameron ever dreamed of becoming! he exulted in his mind. There will be no limit to what I can do!
But while he worked out the means to that end, he must somehow persuade that skittish Hawkins female to listen to him.
I can't imagine what possible reason Beltaire has for wanting her to desert Cameron, but he must have one. Well, I don't particularly care, either. That's his business, not mine.
He would do his best; but that was not his primary concern. The most important thing for him was to find a reason for Cameron to send him into the city for an extended stay.
