Ethan stared off frowning. Giles felt something of his turmoil. Chaos played on both the light and dark sides, playing the eternal balance like a teeter-totter. But up must always be matched with down, good with bad, dark with light.
"I need your help, Ethan," he went on. "We must move quickly. The potentials are in dire danger, and the Council won't be able to move fast enough. They'll want to debate and discuss and study, and by then ..."
"By then the darkness will have won and the Council will be looking for knee pads."
"Ethan!"
"I heard that snicker." He sighed deeply. "What do we have to do?"
"Find the potentials, take them somewhere safe. I have a list of them and their locations. Between us, we can--" He saw the look on Ethan's face. "What?"
"You're actually going to trust me to find potential soldiers for good and convince them to accompany me to some unknown location for their own safety? Me?"
"You're a very good liar, Ethan. The gods only know all the foolish things you've convinced me to do."
They stared at each other a moment, then Ethan began laughing. "All right, Ripper, all right. And they call me the mad one."
Giles smiled, but there was worry in his eyes. "You do realize that this could completely wreck your reputaton. Will this be a problem for you?"
"Fortunes of war, dear Rupert, fortunes of war. I didn't start this game to die of old age anyway. We agreed with Peter Townsend once upon a time."
Giles nodded. "'I hope I die before I get old.' Yes. Well, we're certainly doing our best to live up to that one. We'd best be going, we have a great deal to do." He shifted his shoulders and winced. "Dammit, I don't have time for this."
"Don't worry, Rupert, we'll think of something."
if I keep going it'll just keep going and going. And I don't have time!