I looked at Belial. He was sipping his drink, his eyes staring blankly at the busy Shanghai street outside the window. The snowy drizzle clung to the glass like dust.
"Belial," I said.
He turned. Set his glass down gently. The sound of its base hitting the wooden table was clear amidst the restaurant's hum.
"Yes, My Lord?"
"The Holy Grail," I said. "When do you think… we should use it?"
I saw his reflection in the window. He didn't move. He seemed to be thinking of the right answer.
"Hmm… if you ask me," he replied. His voice was calm. "I think we can only use it after we truly know whether or not there are other Avalon Players on Earth, My Lord."
"The Holy Grail itself is our Trump Card."
I nodded. That was a logical answer. The answer I had also thought of.
