The audience chamber was large and splendid, with marble pillars along the walls framing tapestries depicting fabulous, mythical creatures. The floor was made of slabs of polished stone, worn in places so that the paths trod by ministers and retainers over the centuries could be plainly seen. The ceiling arched high over Tak's head as he and Gal-Gowan hesitated in the doorway, waiting for the signal that they were free to enter.

     One thing that struck Tak immediately, though, was that the huge room had no windows. All the light was provided by a number of chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, each crystal of which glowed with a pure white light. Tak had never imagined that a room above ground level would be deliberately cut off from the air and light of the outside world and he wondered why the King would want things this way. Was he afraid of attack, perhaps? Molos Gomm had shown him images of warfare in his crystal ball, and he remembered seeing warriors mounted on winged horses shooting arrows at people on the ground. He supposed that an enemy flying into the city could, in theory, attack the King through an open window, but surely there were guards posted to prevent such a thing. A whole army of them. Maybe the King just doesn't like sunlight, the wizard thought dubiously.

     The King was sitting on a glorious golden throne at the far end of the chamber and was talking to a man in the dark robes of a minister, probably taking care of a small bit of last minute business. The King was wearing some kind of golden mask in the shape of a handsome man's face. A face with a high, noble forehead topped by a generous mop of curly hair.

     He must have ruined his face, Tak thought, jumping straight to the conclusion. He's a wizard, a spell must have backfired on him. He knew all about backfiring spells. Molos Gomm had taken great delight in filling his head with horror stories of what happened when a spell wasn't cast right, if a word was mispronounced or a component wrongly prepared. Now that Tak came to notice it, no part of the King's body was visible. He wore white gloves on his hands and his arms and legs were covered by hanging folds of cloth. Must have been a terrible accident, he thought in horror. He was half right. It had been no accident.

     The King dismissed the minister, if that was what he was, and looked up, apparently seeing the two wizards for the first time, although neither of them had any doubt that he'd been aware of them all along. He gave a hand signal to the doorkeeper, who announced them with great ceremony and dignity. "Wizard Lord Gal Gowan of Gythlum. Prince of Yarlok. Defender of the Realm. Keeper of the King's Peace. And Wizard Tak Eweela of Nagra. Honoured guest and Holder of the King's Favour."

     Now, for the first time, Tak began to feel the first stirrings of doubt. Gal-Gowan was the King's apprentice. Was he really announced with ceremony and formality every time he went to see his teacher? Or was the King making a deliberate attempt to impress him? And if so, why? The events of this and the previous day began to take on a new meaning in his mind. What had he done to deserve this kind of heroic treatment? Suddenly suspicious, he kept a wary eye on the King as Gal-Gowan led him across the floor to stand before him.

     They stopped a dozen feet from him and Tak was suddenly aware of how cold the chamber was. Goosebumps stood out on his arms and legs and his breath billowed in frosty clouds in front of him. He found himself shivering, and not just because of the low temperature. Suddenly he was very afraid, and his fear was made all the worse by the fact that he had no idea what was causing it. All he knew was that a basic part of him, way down inside, wanted him to get the hell out of there. Right now!

     He held himself under control, though, as the King looked him over, and Tak noticed something new. The mask had no eye holes. How was the King seeing him? Maybe he was blind, and yet everything in his bearing suggested that he could see the young wizard very well. Far better, in fact, than Tak was comfortable with.

     "So you are Tak Eweela," the King said.

     Tak immediately relaxed. The King's voice was soft and friendly and Tak's fears and suspicions vanished as if they'd never been.

     "Welcome to Domandropolis," the King added. "I've been wanting to meet you ever since I heard that Molos had taken a new apprentice. What do you think of my city?"

     It took Tak a moment or two to find his tongue. His mouth was as dry as a desert. "It, it's glorious, your Majesty," he stammered. "I've never seen anything like it."

     The King chuckled. "I dare say you haven't, a country lad like you. In a way, I envy you. You see this city fresh, as it really is, unlike these tired old eyes of mine which see it so much that they no longer see it at all. You no doubt have valuable insights that escape me. Perhaps we could talk later, when we have more time."

     Tak was stunned. The King, learn from him? He glowed with pride and pleasure and glanced at Gal-Gowan, who was beaming with approval.

     Khalkedon, meanwhile, beckoned to an aide and had him bring a couple more chairs over, to stand beside his throne. "Sit, sit," he commanded, waving Tak to one of the chairs. "Unfortunately, many duties press upon my time and I cannot neglect them. This is the hour when citizens may bring their disputes and grievances before me, for my judgement. When Gal-Gowan was younger I used to let him observe, so that he would see for himself how a great city is governed. Now it is your turn." He raised his gloved hand and the doorkeeper showed in the first claimant.

     It was a small, grubby man dressed in dirty, badly worn clothes, wringing a leather cap in his hands. He hesitated a few feet over the threshold as if suddenly having second thoughts about this, but the King beckoned him forward and the man advanced slowly and furtively, his eyes lowered fearfully.

     "Speak, citizen," Khalkedon commanded. "Why do you come before me?"

     The man, perhaps realising that it was too late to back out now, summoned what courage he had and looked up, glancing at Tak and Gal-Gowan as if wondering who they were. "Your majesty," he said with a surprisingly deep, strong voice, "I apologise for taking up your time with what you will, no doubt, consider a trivial problem, but I have tried for five months to find an answer for my situation and you are my last hope. The streets are full of praise for your wisdom and mercy, so I..." His voice trailed off as he ran out of momentum, however, and his eyes fell to the floor again.

     "Speak," repeated the King, however. "Come, my good man. You need have no fear here."

     The man looked up again, encouraged by the King's words, and hesitantly explained his problem. It turned out that he was unable to pay the rent on his home, due to a downturn in the leatherworking market, that being how he made his living. He had pleaded with the bailiffs to be given more time to find what he owed but had been told to pay up by the end of the week or he and his family would end up on the streets. He had come to plead with the King to give him more time.

     "I can find the money," he promised. "Everyone always wants leather goods when the season turns and my business will pick up again. I will have the money in a few weeks. Please tell the bailiffs to give me that long! I beg you, Sire! Your justice and mercy are legendary! Give me the time and I will pay off all that I owe, I swear it."

     He fell silent, frantically wringing his hat in his hands, and the King took a moment to consider. Then he turned to Tak. "If you were King, what judgement would you bring in this case?"

     Tak was stunned all over again, but he spoke without hesitation. "I would give him the time he's asking for. If he fails to make payment he can still be evicted and the city will have lost nothing, but if he pays his debts the city will keep the services of a valued tradesman."

     "Well spoken," agreed the King. "You have wisdom, young Tak. I can see that you will indeed be of great value to me, perhaps as an advisor as well as a wizard." He beckoned for his minister of city affairs to come forward. "This man is to have the time he asks for. Inform the bailiffs." The minister bowed low and backed away.

     The leatherworker was dismissed and another citizen took his place, accompanied by two men of the city guard. The man was accused of robbery but was insisting that he'd been framed by a rival. His innocence could be proved, he insisted, if his rival's home was searched. A third petitioner had been denied a trading license by the merchant's guild, apparently a powerful organisation in the city, and was in danger of destitution as a result. He claimed that certain members of the guild had a personal grievance against him and that he only wanted to be treated fairly.

     Others followed, all with problems and grievances that only the King himself could address and Khalkedon dealt with each of them fairly and impartially. Sometimes the King would ask Tak's opinion and advice and usually he accepted the young wizard's recommendation, boosting his already dangerously swollen ego. On the two occasions when Tak was seriously in error, the King pointed it out to him patiently and considerately, as if he was indeed training him in the arts of leadership.

     Eventually, though, he gave a signal to the doorkeepers and all the remaining petitioners were turned away. When the last of them had gone the King rose from his throne. Gal-Gowan rose as well, and Tak instinctively followed suit.

     "Well, that's that for another week," the King said. "Come, my friends. We have half an hour or so before my next engagement. Let us retire to my morning room for a little refreshment."

     He led the way out of the huge chamber, and a pair of the household guard fell in discreetly alongside. Gal-Gowan moved close alongside the younger wizard so he could whisper in his ear. "You are indeed honoured," he said. "Khalkedon has half a dozen wizards working for him, and he's had two dozen apprentices brought before him for a look over. You are the first he's ever invited back to his private chambers."

     "Really?" cried Tak, believing it completely

     "Really," assured the red wizard. "So don't blow it. Just do whatever he tells you to do. You must have really impressed him. Play your cards right and there's no telling how high you might rise. Maybe all the way to the top."

     All the way to the top! Gal-Gowan's words rang in Tak's head and he buzzed with excitement, but years in the future he would bitterly curse his foolishness. The naivety that led to him fall victim to spells that required the victim to submit completely of their own free will.