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Parties arrive there, they will expect to see hovels, abject poverty, and heaps of squalor and that I expect them to get it. I also expect you to do something about this house of yours. A Dark Lord’s Citadel must always be a black castle with a labyrinthine interior lit by baleful fires—you will find our specifications in the guide Mr. Addis will give you—and it would be helpful if you could introduce emaciated prisoners and some grim servitors to solemnize the frivolous effect of these monsters of yours.”
    Perhaps the ant stings could spread diseases, Derk thought. “You mean the griffins?”
    â€œIf that’s what the creatures are,” said Mr. Chesney. “You are also required to supply a pack of hounds, black with red eyes, a few iron-fanged horses, leathery-winged avians, et cetera—again the guidebook will give you the details. Our Pilgrims will be paying for the very greatest evil, Wizard, and they must not be disappointed. By the same token, you must plow up these gardens and replace them with a gloomy forecourt and pits of balefire. And you’ll need the place to be guarded by a suitable demon.”
    â€œI’ll supply the demon,” Querida put in quickly.
    Derk remembered the blue demon as well as Querida did. He turned to give her a grateful look and caught sight of Mara, standing behind Querida, looking delighted. Now what? he thought. She knows I can’t summon demons. What makes her so happy about it? He thought hard of six different diseases an ant might spread and asked Mr. Chesney, “Is there anything else?”
    â€œYes. You yourself,” Mr Chesney said. “Your appearance is far too pleasantly human. You will have to take steps to appear as a black shadow nine feet high, although, as our Pilgrims will only expect to meet you at the end of their tour, you need not appear very often. When they do meet you, however, they require to be suitably terrified. Your present appearance is quite inadequate.”
    Diseases! Derk thought. But he could not resist saying, “Isn’t there a case for the Dark Lord appearing to have a divine and sickly beauty?”
    â€œNot,” said Mr. Chesney, “to any Pilgrim Party. Besides, this would interfere with our choice for this year’s novelty. This year I have decided that one of your gods must manifest at least once to every party.”
    An anxious rustle ran around the entire table.
    Mr. Chesney’s head came up, and his mouth clamped like a man-trap around someone’s leg. “Is there some problem with that?”
    Querida was the only person brave enough to answer. “There certainly is, Mr. Chesney. Gods don’t appear just like that. And I don’t think any god has appeared to anyone for at least forty years.”
    â€œI see no problem there,” Mr. Chesney told her. He turned to Derk. “You must have a word with High Priest Umru. Tell him I insist on his deity appearing.” He picked a sheaf of crisp blue papers out of his little case and flicked the pages over. “Failure to supply this year’s novelty is covered by Article Twenty-nine of our original contract. Yes, here it is. I quote. ‘In the event of such failure all monies otherwise accruing as payment for services rendered over the tour or tours will be withheld by Chesney Pilgrim Parties for that year and the individuals responsible will be fined in addition a sum not exceeding one hundred gold coins.’ This means that no one will get paid unless a god appears. Yes, I think there’s no problem here,” Mr. Chesney said. He put the papers away and sat back. “I shall now let Mr. Addis take over the meeting.”
    In the silence that followed, the large man on Mr. Chesney’s right put his briefcase on the table and smiled jovially around at everyone. Mr. Chesney meanwhile refused wine from Mara and beer from Elda but accepted a cup of coffee from Blade, which he