Ptolemy's Gate

individual, not as a member of the government, though if you don't stop your histrionics, that may change. Officially you are dead. Yesterday I received word that you were alive. I wanted confirmation."
    Kitty's eyes narrowed. "Who told you I was here? A demon?"
    "No. It is not important."
    Clarity came. "Ah, it was Nick Drew."
    "I said it is not important. You cannot be surprised that I would want to find you—a fugitive from justice, a member of the Resistance."
    "No," she said. "I'm just surprised you haven't cut my throat already."
    The magician gave a cry of genuine annoyance. "I am a minister, not a murderer! I help protect our people against . . . against terrorists like you and your friends."
    "Yeah, because the people are so safe in your care," Kitty sneered. "Half our young men are dying in America, and we've got the police mauling others in the street, and demons attacking anyone who protests, and enemies and spies at large in our suburbs. We're all having a great time!"
    "If it wasn't for us, it would be much, much worse!" Mandrake's voice was high and tight; with evident effort he lowered i t to a purr. "We use our power to rule for the good of all. The commoners need guidance. Admittedly, we're going through a ropey patch, but—"
    "Your power is based on slavery! How can it be for anyone's good?"
    The magician seemed genuinely shocked. "Not human slavery," he said. "Just demons."
    "That makes it better, does it? I think not. Everything you do is tainted with that corruption."
    His answer was faint. "That's not so."
    "It is so, and I think you know it." Kitty frowned at him. "What are you here for? What do you want? The Resistance was a long time ago."
    Mandrake cleared his throat. "I was told . . ." He drew his coat around him, looked out across the river. "I was told you saved me from the golem. That you risked your life to save mine." He glanced at her; Kitty kept her face impassive. "I was also told you died doing it. Now that I find you alive, I am . . . naturally curious as to the truth."
    Kitty scowled. "What do you want: the details? Yes, I did, and I must have been mad. I stopped the golem from crushing your sorry head into a pulp. Then I ran away. That's all there is to it."
    She stared at him fixedly; he gazed back, face pale and stark in the artificial light. The rain pattered down between them.
    Mandrake coughed. "Well, the details are fine. Thanks. In fact, that wasn't exactly it so much as—as I kind of wondered why." He shoved his hands in his pockets.
    "I don't know," Kitty said. "I really don't know."
    "Put your coat on," he said. "You're getting soaked."
    "Like you care." Even so, she put it on.
    He watched her as she wrestled with the sleeves. When she had finished doing up the buttons he cleared his throat again. "Well, whatever your reasons might have been," he began, "I suppose I need to th—"
    "Don't," she said. "Don't. I don't want to hear it. Not from you."
    He frowned. "But—"
    "I did it without thinking and if you want to know the truth, I've regretted it ever since, whenever I've seen your hideous, lying leaflets on the streets, or passed those stages where your actors do your lying for you. So don't thank me, Mr. Mandrake." She shivered; the rain had steadily intensified. "If you must thank someone, make it Bartimaeus. He's the one who prompted me to save your life."
    Even in the dark she could see it startled him. His posture stiffened, his voice grew brittle. "He prompted you? I find that hard to credit."
    "Why? Because he's a demon? Yeah, I know. Doesn't make much sense. But he told me how to stop the golem, he called me back when I would have run. Without him you'd be dead. But don't let that bother you. He's just a slave."
    The magician was silent for a time. Then he said, "I had been meaning to ask you about Bartimaeus. For some reason he regards you with affection. Why is that?"
    Kitty's laugh was genuine. "There is no affection between us."
    "No? Why then did he tell me you were dead? He said the golem killed you. That is why I have not searched for you in all these years."
    "He said that? I didn't know. . ." Kitty looked out over the black river. "Well," she said, "perhaps it was because I treated him with some respect! Perhaps because I didn't enslave him, perhaps because I didn't seek to keep him in service for year after year without a break till his essence wore away!" She bit her lip, and looked quickly at the magician.
    His eyes were hidden in a strip of