Ptolemy's Gate

duty here."
    "Your high opinion of my powers notwithstanding," I growled, "I'm the only one who's actually seen Hopkins. Go on without me if you want. See how far you get."
    "He's getting huffy now," Hodge said in contemplative tones. "Ego like a balloon. Watch out! It's going to pop!"
    Mwamba batted her tail irritably against the floor. "We're wasting time. Bartimaeus may be decrepit, but we need his advice before we start." She smiled as sweetly as a sewer rat can smile. "Please go on, Bartimaeus. Tell us what you saw."
    You know me. I'm not one to hold grudges.[2] I gave a careless shrug. "In truth, it isn't much. I saw Hopkins, but only briefly. Whether he's a magician or not, I can't say. I assume so. Certainly someone used a gang of foliots and djinn to chase me off."

[2] At least not when I can't do anything about them. But sooner or later, when I was back at full vigor, I'd meet Hodge, Ascobol, and Cormocodran again.Then I'd apply delayed retribution with all the savage ferocity of a wounded bear. Successful vengeance is all about timing.

"Just a thought, this," Mwamba said. "You're sure he's human?"
    "Hopkins? Yep, I checked him out on all seven planes. Human on each one. If we can catch him by surprise, we should be able to hold him."
    "Oh, I'll hold him," Hodge said in a dark, exulting voice. "Don't you worry about that. I've got a snug place waiting for him, a place where ropes and shackles won't be needed. A place right here. . . under my skin'.' He sniggered lovingly; the sound faded.
    The other four rats looked at each other.
    Ascobol said, "I think we'll stick to plain old ropes, Hodge. Thanks for the offer. Right, to continue, we know Hopkins stays here. Any idea which room?"
    I shrugged. "Not a clue."
    "We'll have to check the book at reception. What then?"
    Cormocodran shifted his hairy bulk. "We rampage upstairs, break down the door, beat Hopkins to a pulp, and spirit him away. Simple, efficient, satisfying. Next question."
    I shook my head. "Tactically brilliant, but Hopkins might be alerted as we stomp upon the stairs. We must be subtle here."
    Cormocodran frowned. "I'm not sure I do subtle."
    "Besides," Mwamba said, "Hopkins may not yet have returned. We need to get to his room quietly and see. If he's away, we lurk within."
    I nodded. "Disguises are necessary, and in Hodge's case an additional bath and fumigation. Humans have a sense of smell, you know."
    The rat in question stirred indignantly, rattling his poison spines. "Step this way, Bartimaeus. I wish to taste your essence."
    "Oh, yes? Think you can take me?"
    "Nothing would be easier or more welcome."
    For some while the argument proceeded, scintillating in its wit, verve, and skillful repartee,[3] but before I could rout my opponent with a final devastating proof, a bloke came in to use the phone box, and the rats turned tail and scattered.

[3] Sample dialogue: "Oh, so you reckon you can, eh?" "Yeah, no problem, pal!" "Yeah?" "Yeah!" All to a backdrop of the others whooping and slapping their hairy haunches. For intellectual reach and vigor, it was midway between the debates of ancient Athens and those of more recent English parliaments.
    Twenty minutes passed. At the entrance to the Ambassador Hotel the doorman paced rhythmically from side to side and clapped his hands together to keep warm. A group of guests approached, a woman and three men, all beautifully attired in suits of Silk Road cloth. They spoke quietly together in an Arabic tongue; the woman wore jewels of moonstone at her throat. Each gave off reassuring emanations of wealth, dignity, and social poise.[4] The doorman stepped back, saluted. The four acknowledged him with nods and gracious smiles. They passed up the steps and into the hotel foyer.

[4] With the possible exception of Cormocodran, who still contrived to resemble a heifer shoehorned into a suit.

A young woman sat smiling behind a mahogany desk. "Can I help you?"
    The most handsome of the men approached. "Good evening. We are from the Embassy of the Kingdom of Sheba. We have a royal party arriving in a few weeks, and wish to inspect your premises with a view to hiring rooms."
    "Certainly, sir. Would you care to follow me? I will find the manager."
    The receptionist rose from her desk and padded on light feet down a corridor. The four Sheban diplomats followed; as they did so, one opened a clenched fist. A small but unpleasant insect rose out, all legs, spines, and sulphurous odors, and flew on whirring