He turned his attention back to the crystal ball and mentally summoned the spirit living within it, no longer burdened by any feeling of compassion or pity towards it. Creatures like pucks deserved no pity. They deserved everything they got.

     His new opinion of it was confirmed when the spirit revealed itself to him. He could sense how loathsomely evil it was, how it used the crystal itself to watch and gloat over all the sufferings of the world. He could sense also that it had no desire to be free. It was happy, if such a word could be used to describe such a monstrous intelligence. It wanted to stay just where it was, where everything that went on everywhere in the world was visible to it. It was the ultimate couch potato, and had long since forgotten whatever existence it had had before.

     As Tak's mind made contact with it, he was momentarily aware of what the spirit was seeing, and in his mind's eye a scene took shape. A tribe of shologs had captured a merchant caravan foolishly taking a shortcut through their territory and was busily torturing the crew, a pastime the humanoid race enjoyed almost as much as warfare. There was no sound, so he couldn't hear the screams or the desperate pleading of men driven past the point of sanity, but the visual scene was enough to drive him reeling away from the orb in horror. There was still a connection between him and the spirit of the crystal, though, and he sensed it laughing derisively at him, amused by his squeamishness.

     "You, you monster!" cried Tak in outrage, striding back to the orb on its pedestal. "You take pleasure in watching scenes like that? That's your idea of entertainment? Why I ought to..." He picked up the orb, and for one mad moment he meant to throw it to the stone floor, smash it to pieces. Sanity returned just in time, however, and he returned it gently to its pedestal. Destroying the orb would not end the suffering of the men he'd seen in it, and he suspected he was going to need the orb too much to risk damaging it. Taking a deep breath, therefore, he looked into it again and issued a mental command for the spirit to turn its gaze elsewhere.

     He'd lost all desire to look upon his old home again, because the spirit would be seeing it as well. He felt it would be a desecration of his childhood memories to expose the scenes where they'd taken place to the demon's gaze. He commanded the spirit to look upon the town of Aldervale, therefore, to see what was going on there.

     The spirit was unwilling to leave the scene of torture, however, and Tak had to use all his willpower to tear its gaze away, all the while trying not to see what was happening before his horrified eyes. It was a long, hard struggle, the spirit fought him every inch of the way, but in the end it relented and the silently screaming men faded from view to be replaced by a placid scene of rural tranquility.

     The town was just as he remembered it. Farmers and traders walked the streets, some riding carts laden with goods and produce, some in groups discussing matters of small importance. Oil lamps glowed inside some of the thatched cottages and horses were tied up at hitching posts outside the tavern. The bare earth street was muddy, it had rained overnight, but no-one seemed to mind and even the women he saw paid no attention to the mud plastering their boots and legs.

     Tak thought about Lyssa, the girl Philip had brought to the castle and whom Tak had returned to her family. The street scene faded, and he saw the living room of a house; the room he'd seen during his visit to cure the girl's father. Lyssa was there, sitting upright on one of the chairs, looking unhappy. She had a cotton shirt in her hands and was darning a hole in the elbow, but she kept glancing anxiously towards the door as if something bad were happening on the other side of it. Emotions were warring on her face. At one point she rose from her seat and took one step forward, before changing her mind and sitting again, looking fearful and ashamed. Clearly something was going on in the next room and Tak had a pretty good idea what it was.

     Ordering the spirit to see what was happening on the other side of the door, he wasn't at all surprised to see Jack Nowl and a group of townsmen arguing fiercely. He's heard that Molos Gomm's dying, Tak thought, and he's trying to rouse the town to march against the castle. Fortunately he seemed to be meeting a lot of opposition, although there were at least two men clearly on his side.

     Tak wished he could hear what was being said and tried to read their lips but with very limited success. Not that it was hard to guess. Jack would be pointing out that this was their opportunity to free their town from wizardly domination, before the new wizard could rise to real power, and the others would be pointing out that even an apprentice wizard would be dangerous. Besides, they would be saying, Molos Gomm had always turned his attention further afield, lest he incur just such an uprising from his neighbours. He's never actually done anything to us. Let his victims risk their lives taking revenge.

    Jack would then, probably already had, point out that he was one of the wizard's victims, as was his daughter, and how could they hold their heads up like real men if they forgot that? Tak wondered whether anyone had reminded him yet that he, Tak, had cured him of Philip's 'curse' and returned his daughter to him, but of course they had no way of knowing that Philip was dead. For all they knew, the man who'd abducted and raped the poor girl in the next room might be the new master of Castle Nagra.

     I should tell them, thought Tak. Go into the village and tell them that I'm the new master and that they have nothing to fear from me. He knew, though, even as he was thinking it, that he wasn't going to do that. He'd barely escaped with his life the last time. Next time he might not be so lucky.

     He left Aldervale and made the spirit turn the orb on the city of Domandropolis instead. This time the demon offered less resistance. It had learned that Tak was its mental superior and that resistance was useless. The human would go away soon, and when he did the spirit would be free to turn the orb's gaze anywhere he wanted once again. As with Molos Gomm before him, therefore, it decided to save its energy and wait. One day a weak willed person would try to use the crystal ball, and wouldn't he have fun then!

     Tak knew he was taking a great risk. Even as a boy, he'd been able to sense when Molos Gomm was using the orb to spy on him, and if he should stumble across Gal-Gowan or, the Gods forbid, Khalkedon himself, they'd be aware of him in an instant. He was eager to find Barl Hobson, though. Since his return from the city, there had been no opportunity for the two of them to speak and he was anxious for the two of them to compare notes. Maybe Barl had come up with a plan to end their thraldom to the rak King. Maybe the apprentice knew of a way to communicate via the crystal ball. He knew there had to be a way, even if it was just writing on a piece of paper and holding it up to be read. Gal-Gowan had sometimes informed Molos Gomm in advance when he was coming and it had always been just after the old wizard had been gazing into the orb. Some kind of telepathy, perhaps. A mental contact, like the one he had with the spirit of the crystal.

     He found the reading room where he'd first met Barl easily enough, but the apprentice wasn't there. He tried commanding the spirit to find him, but with no success, and Tak could sense that the small demon was genuinely unable to do this. It could home in on places, it seemed, but not people.

     He explored at random, therefore, looking in room after room, but he'd hardly begun before he became aware of a growing tension in his head. The same feeling he got from staring at a small printed book for too long. He remembered that Molos Gomm had sometimes risen from the crystal with the frustrated groan of an unfinished job, rubbing his temples as if tired, and he guessed that one could only use the artifact for so long before exhaustion set in.

     He fought against it for a while longer, desperately eager to make contact with his only ally, but in the end he was forced to give up as the tension developed into a sharp pain behind the eyes. He cursed loudly, therefore, and gave the command to deactivate the orb, consoling himself with the thought that he could always return to it, now that he knew how. He would try again when he'd rested and recovered.

     He was exhausted physically as well as mentally, he was surprised to discover. As if he'd spent the whole day hoeing weeds from hard, dry ground. It was only mid afternoon, but he felt the need to lie down and close his eyes for a while. Perhaps have a little doze.

     He checked up on Molos Gomm first, though, who now thought he was Philip and berated him for breaking something called a colostron. He was really angry and actually began casting a spell at him, forcing Tak to duck out of the room before he could be caught by it. Cantor's Crushing Fist, he thought, recognising some of the magic words. The spell would have held him fast and squeezed until he was gasping for breath, and he might have been left like that for the rest of the day until the old wizard thought he'd learned his lesson. In the old days, he would never have been able to escape in time, but the old man's voice had slowed along with the rest of him. He breathed a sigh of relief as he sensed the patterns of magical force searching the room for their target, then dissipating harmlessly when they failed to find it and, after waiting another couple of minutes to make sure it was safe, he looked cautiously back in.

     Molos Gomm was standing in the middle of the room, looking confused. The furniture was wrecked and the bars of the room's only window were bent as if they'd been subjected to some tremendous force. Tak shuddered at the closeness of his escape. The spell had been stronger than any other time he'd cast it, as if his fury had boosted its power. If it had caught him, he might well not have survived, or Molos Gomm might have wandered off and forgotten about him, leaving him held helplessly until he starved to death.

     He took the old wizard into another room, meaning to come back and clean up later, but suddenly he was gripped by a pain greater than any other he'd ever known. He collapsed to the ground, writhing in agony, and a voice sounded in his head. The voice of Khalkedon, the rak King.

     "So it was you, Tak, who came to spy on my palace just now. Did you think me unable to detect such an invasion? I have spells to inform me when my enemies turn their crystal balls in my direction, just as they have wards and guards set against me. Do you understand, you foolish little man, that to spy on me is a very dangerous, very foolhardy undertaking? Do you?"

     "Yes," gasped Tak, who could only writhe in pain. "Forgive me!" he begged. "Please forgive me! I was only curious! I won't do it again! I promise!"

     "See you do not," warned the rak King, "or the pain you are feeling now will be as nothing compared to the agonies I shall inflict upon you. Remember that I am your master. Remember it or die."

     The voice ended, and so did the pain, but it was several moments before he could bring himself to struggle back to his feet, to find Molos Gomm staring at him in delight, almost laughing out loud. "What did you do to anger him?" he asked. "Let me guess, you used the crystal ball. Am I right? You're lucky to be alive, my dear little sweetcheeks. When I was an apprentice, Khalkedon killed a wizard who tried to spy on him. You won't do it again, will you? Our beloved master knows well how to teach his lessons."

     Tak stared in surprise. Molos Gomm seemed to be in his right mind again, for the time being at least. "Did he ever punish you that way?" he asked.

     "That is no business of yours!" roared the old wizard furiously, but then he was doubled over by a coughing fit so severe that the younger wizard feared he was doing damage to his lungs. The old man swayed on his feet and Tak rushed over to support him.

     Molos Gomm shrugged him off angrily. "Get about your duties!" he commanded. "And then sweep this floor! Look at the state of it!"

     He strode off in the direction of the alteratory, and Tak hurried after him, fearful of what he might do when he got there. The old wizard hadn't gone more than a few yards, though, before he paused again, the confused look back on his face. He looked this way and that, as if unsure where he was, then stared at Tak.

     "Who are you?" he demanded. "Where's Jenn?" He caught a glimpse of his hands and suddenly he was staring at them in horror. "I'm old!" he cried, raising his hands to his face to feel the folds and wrinkles of skin around his mouth and eyes. "I'm old! What happened? What happened to me?"

     "I'll take you to Jenn," said Tak, wondering who she was as he took him by the arm to led him gently to his bedchamber. "She'll explain everything to you." Gods, but this was exhausting work! He spent a moment wondering whether he could get someone in to help look after him. There was plenty of gold, but he suspected there wasn't nearly enough to make anyone want to work in a wizard's castle of their own free will. Maybe if he looked far enough away, somewhere where they'd never heard of him.

     He remembered the cook, and her husband, the caretaker. They worked in the castle, although Trobo was the only one of them who saw them regularly. Would one of them be willing to lend a hand? He guessed the answer would be no, especially since his own near escape just now. There was no harm in asking, though. Tomorrow, he thought, stifling a yawn. He'd ask them tomorrow. After he'd had a rest. A good night's sleep. Trobo would help. Together they'd ask them, and who knows, maybe they'd be willing. Maybe.