Aahz's eyebrows perked up again. "The whole thing?"

"The whole thing," Samwise said. "It's only right. It's the most expensive site on each pyramid, so I'm offering a perk to attract just the right buyer. Of course, we can't build the top until all the sites below it are sold. It's a great location, Mr. Aahz. It is absolutely peaceful—except for designated mourner sessions."

"Mourner sessions?" Aahz had a dreamy look on his face.

"Uh, Aahz," I began, "you told me never to get involved in a project at its outset. You said ..."

"Never mind, kid," he interrupted me. "What about mourners?"

Samwise was all business. "All part of the service. Every customer can decide what kind of moaning and wailing he wants, how much praise and how many accomplishments he wants attributed to him. And this is where the legacy I spoke of comes in: we have a team of scribes who will chisel the details of your great deeds so that they are never forgotten."

"Never?" Aahz asked. "Never's a long time."

"Absolutely never. When I say written in stone, I mean written in stone!"

"About how much would the peak stone cost?" Aahz inquired, aiming an idle talon at the centermost pyramid.

"Not a copper coin less than ten thousand."

Aahz pursed his lips. "Ten thousand copper?"

"You malign me, Mr. Aahz! Ten thousand gold pieces. But for a distinguished citizen like yourself, of course, all prices are negotiable. It is the most exclusive site available. I know such a connoisseur as you would appreciate it. And I like the idea of a business partner having a tangible stake in the project. Shall we say . . . eight thousand?"

Aahz grunted thoughtfully.

To my horror, Aahz looked like he was buying into the Imp's sales patter. I jumped up and put myself between them.