Dinner was one of the finest meals he'd ever had, and was only marred by his having the huge dining chamber all to himself, except for the butler who brought and took away the remains of all five courses. He would have liked to have had someone to talk with over the meal, but the servants kept to their own quarters whenever their duties allowed. Chilgrone excused himself by saying he had experiments that demanded his attention and the rak himself, of course, didn't need to eat at all.

     Tak had thought he might have made an appearance anyway, to get to know his new assistant as quickly as possible, but as one course of exquisitely prepared food followed another and the undead head of the house failed to make an appearance Tak began to wonder whether seeing a living man eating and enjoying his food might be an unbearable reminder of the fleshly pleasures he'd had to forgo. That was something else he would do well to remember, he thought to himself as he polished off the last of the delicately flavoured baby frogs cooked in yellow shellfish oil. Don't ever in his presence mention sex, food, drink or the beauty of the sunlit countryside. None of the things that living humans take pleasure in and that are now denied Gannlow forever. If he really is a young rak, maybe transformed less than ten years ago, he may still be coming to terms with his new condition, and the reminder of what he's given up might drive him into rages of frustration.

     In fact, he needn't have worried. When he did finally meet him the next morning, while he was roaming the mansion at random admiring the expensive furnishings and the rare works of art, the rak seemed to be very well adjusted and contented with himself. He was wearing flowing black robes that covered his whole body, much like those worn by Khalkedon, and like the lord of Domandropolis the younger rak wore a metal mask over his face and leather gloves on his hands, probably so as not to terrify the staff, although they had to have known the kind of creature they were working for. He'd gone to a great deal of trouble to make himself appear as normal as possible, but as soon as the formality of introductions was completed he took off his mask and gloves and tossed them onto a nearby chair, where they smoked with the cold.

     "No pretence between us," he stated matter of factly, the glowing points of light that served him as eyes flickering above the rictus grin of his stretched, mummified face. "You know what kind of creature I am. How do you feel about working for a creature usually portrayed as monstrously evil?"

     "If you're monstrously evil I haven't seen any evidence of it so far," replied Tak, "and your money's as good as anyone's."

     The rak laughed with pleasure, a horrible rattling sound, and the aura of cold that surrounded him washed over the living wizard, making him gasp with shock as if he'd just fallen into icy water.

     "I wish everyone was as sensible as you," said Gannlow. "It's endlessly tiresome how many people judge me for what I am instead of who I am. Not that I let it bother me, of course. It's just a measure of their ignorance, and why should I care for the opinions of people who'll be dust in a few short centuries?"

     He speaks as though he's already a thousand years old, thought Tak in amusement, but he'd caught the undercurrents in his manner of speaking that confirmed the youth of the creature standing before him. He wondered how old he'd been when he'd made the change. The awful gamble that had a fifty, fifty chance of destroying him completely. Fifty years old, perhaps? Sixty? If so, that meant he might still be younger than some living humans.

     That knowledge did much to dispel most of the remaining superstitious fear he'd been feeling in the presence of this creature. He was not dealing with someone vastly more powerful than himself. Gannlow was his superior in the magical arts, of course, but so would have been a living wizard of that age and experience. The fact that the rak was an undead creature meant that he had some supernatural powers at his command, but nothing that couldn't be duplicated by magical spells. It just meant he would have to be careful in his dealings with him. No, the main reason raks were so feared was because they could 'live' for hundreds of years, during which they could advance their magical powers far beyond the scope of short lived mortals, and although Gannlow might become that powerful one day, he wasn't yet. Tak felt himself growing more confident that he could accomplish what he'd come here to do. All he had to do was keep his eyes open. Watch and learn.

     Once he'd gotten it into his head that Gannlow was nothing to be particularly scared of, he found that he was able to hold a conversation with the rak just as he would with any other man. The rak, in turn, seemed willing to treat him the way any employer treated a hired employee, even growing quite friendly as they got to know each other. That was another thing that would change as he grew older, Tak knew. Older raks tended to regard mortals as little more than insects or cattle, to be ruled over or ignored completely unless they made a nuisance of themselves. Most of the rak Kings were between two and four hundred years old. Khalkedon, for instance, was three hundred and forty and had long since ceased to regard living humans as being in any way similar to himself. Only other raks were to be respected as equals. Living humans were nothing. The dirt under his feet.

     As they grew still older, even ruling the cities of mankind began to lose interest for them and they slipped steadily away into realms of endeavour beyond the ability of the living to comprehend. Many of them moved away to other planes of existence to become citizens of the Cosmic All. Immortal nomads spending the rest of eternity exploring the infinite multiverse. It wasn't that these old raks were evil, therefore, although the word did fit many of them very well. It was that, as their powers grew, they steadily lost all interest in the affairs of humanity, even seeing them as a nuisance and a pest, to be removed, or even exterminated when they interfered with their activities. They didn't think it wrong to wipe out an entire city whose citizens were becoming an annoyance, any more than a man might think it wrong to destroy a wasps nest in his loft. Gannlow, however, was still young enough to be interested in human affairs, and he questioned every aspect of Tak's life at length. In turn, he volunteered details of his own life as a wizard, seeming to enjoy relating to someone just for the sake of companionship.

     He'd been born in the nearby city of Halfardin, the son of a rich merchant, and from the age of six onwards had travelled with him on his buying and selling trips across all the realms of humanity. To the cities of the Iron Coast, from which ships of golden kannawood set sail to the islands of the Sighing Sea. To the uplands of Fal where the yellow skinned Mang people built their cities of grey stone. Even as far as the Borderlands, where the great fortress cities stood guard against the ever present threat of the sholog hordes, still multiplying like vermin in the mountains of the north.

     "It was a rewarding and educational life, in its way," the rak mused thoughtfully, "but my father was set on my following him into the mercantile business, which I hated. I always knew I was destined for greater things.

     "One day, though, he'd been haggling with a wizard over the price of a bag of glowstones, essential ingredients for one of his spells, when the wizard suddenly lost interest in his purchase and stared at me instead. He'd sensed the potential in me," the rak explained as he offered Tak a glass of wine, his withered, clawlike hand carefully wrapped in a thick, padded cloth to stop it freezing the pale yellow beverage.

     "He'd been thinking of taking on an apprentice for some time, but hadn't as yet found anyone suitable, and then suddenly there I was, like a gift from the Gods. He leaned forward and made my father an offer for me. Five thousand gold kleps. Father had had offers for me before, from the keepers of pleasure dens and the like, but no-one had ever offered him as much as that! Being a good merchant, though, he asked for three times as much, and they eventually settled at nine thousand kleps. The price of a whole cartload of glowstones! It gave me a sense of worth, I can tell you. A feeling that I was something to be treasured and valued, which was something I'd never had from my father, the Gods rot his soul. When they parted company, therefore, I went with the wizard gladly and I never saw my father again. Nor wanted to."

     "He just sold you?" cried Tak in astonishment. "As if you were just as asset in his business?"

     "That's exactly what I was," agreed the rak, "and I never had cause to dispute it. I would only have been forced to follow him into the merchant trade if that fateful meeting hadn't taken place, whereas now I'm powerful and immortal, with the whole world at my feet. Yes, a day never goes by when I don't give thanks to old Shoddol, my master and teacher for the next fifteen years. He made me the man I am today."

     The rak stood. "And now I expect you're curious to know exactly why I brought you here. What it is that you can do for me that a mighty and powerful rak can't do for himself."

     Tak stood also, placing the wine glass on a nearby table. "I have to admit to some curiosity," he agreed. "That's assuming, of course, that I'm the right man for you."

     Gannlow laughed again. "Oh I think you are. I can sense your power. Much greater than that of any other I've ever met. It's just research, really. I have in my possession some artifacts that I think could be of great use to me, if only I can figure out how to activate them. Your job will be to help me figure them out, by use of translation and divination spells that I'm sure you'll be able to learn quickly if you don't know them already. It'll involve some trips to nearby cities, to peruse their libraries in search of related information. One of the drawbacks of my, my condition is that public places are out of bounds to me. People tend to panic. Soldiers are called for, that kind of thing. Plus, of course, most cities are ruled by raks and they always see me as a threat. They think I'm spying out their domains, preparing for a takeover. Much simpler and easier for someone else to go in my place."

     "But you've got Chilgrone for that," pointed out Tak.

     "I did have," agreed the rak, "but his eyes are no longer any good for reading. I've tried spells, and I've sent him to see clerics and such, but nothing works. His time is drawing to a close. I need a replacement for him."

     Gannlow led him out of the room and down a long corridor that led to a door, on the other side of which was a dusty flight of stone steps leading down into darkness. The basements under the mansion looked as though they'd started life as wine cellars, but Gannlow had extended them considerably so that a system of rooms now extended well beyond the confines of the building above. Tak sensed powerful magics somewhere ahead, but Gannlow led him first into a side chamber guarded by a locking spell that he cancelled with a wave of his clawlike hand.

     "I thought I would first show you the reward for hard work and loyalty," the rak said as he gently pushed the door open.

     Tak gasped at what he saw inside. The room contained five large chests, made of stout wood and bound with straps of iron. The rak opened the first two and Tak saw that they were almost full of silver and gold coins. The third chest contained jewellery. Brooches, rings and necklaces of gold with large, glittering gemstones, while the fourth contained iron. Most of it in the form of large ingots but some in the form of tools and weaponry. All covered with a layer of oil to protect it from the damp. The fifth chest contained rare spices from all across the human world and beyond, including a chest bearing an insignia declaring that it contained darrell. Pound for pound, the most valuable substance in the civilised world.

     "Where did you get all this?" he asked, staring at the five chests in astonishment.

     "That is not important," the rak replied. "Serve me well, however, and if you are successful you may carry away with you as much as you can carry with your own unassisted strength. Enough to make you wealthy for the rest of your life. Even if you are not successful, so long as you have honestly tried your best you will not leave empty handed. I will compensate you handsomely for your time and effort."

     He didn't say what would happen if he didn't serve him well but the implied threat was there in his voice and Tak began to grow nervous for the first time as he considered what he was here for. He forced the thought out of his head in case the rak was able to read his mind. "You are indeed generous," he said carefully.

     "So others have told me," said the rak, who seemed to be grinning despite the desiccated condition of his face. "Now let me show you what you are here for."

     They left the treasure room and continued along the underground corridor to where Tak had sensed the concentration of magic force. Gannlow's laboratory. It turned out to be pretty much like every other laboratory he'd ever seen, though, with tables covered with glassware and equipment, cauldrons filled with bubbling potions and shelves covered with bottles of chemicals and spell components. In the far wall was another door, however, and when Tak moved towards it the rak moved hurriedly in front of him, blocking his way.

     "I have one rule which you must obey," he said, and now there was a dangerous gleam in the burning points of light that served him as eyes. A sudden menace that made Tak back away warily. "Do not ever try to enter that room. The attempt would probably kill you, as it is protected by wards and guards of a thoroughly lethal nature, and if you were to succeed you would die by my hand. Do not even think of that room. Do you understand?"

     "Yes," replied Tak fearfully. "Forgive me, I didn't know it was a private room. I will, of course, respect your privacy."

     That room clearly contained what he'd come for, however. The secrets of rakhood, and he was considering ways to break secretly in even as Gannlow nodded his acceptance and stood aside.

     "Over here," the rak said, crossing to a table on the other side of the room. "What you will occupy yourself with is over here."