The Amulet of Samarkand

through his repertoire of nasty tricks. Then he clapped his hands and spoke again.
    I wasn't expecting anything as potent as the Stimulating Compass. From each of the five points of the pentacle I was in, a glowing column of electricity shot up, jarring and crackling. It was as if five lightning bolts had been momentarily trapped; in another instant, each column had discharged into a horizontal beam that pierced me with the force of a javelin. Arcs of electricity coursed around my body; I screamed and jerked, carried off the floor by the force of the charge.
    Through gritted teeth I spoke it—"Nathaniel!"—then a counter-spell as before. The effect was immediate. The charge left me, I slumped to the ground. Small lightning bolts shot off in all directions. The boy dived just in time—an electric charge that would have killed him beautifully speared straight through his flailing coat as he hit the floor. Other bolts collided with his bed and desk; one zapped into his vase of flowers, slicing the glass cleanly in two. The rest vanished into the walls, peppering them with small, asterisk-shaped burn marks. It was a delightful sight.
    The kid's coat had fallen over his face. Slowly he raised his head and peered out from under it. I gave him a friendly thumbs-up.
    "Keep going," I grinned. "One day, if you work hard and stop making all these stupid mistakes, you might make a real grown-up wizard."
    The kid said nothing. He got painfully to his feet. By pure fluke, he had dived pretty much straight down and so was still safe within his pentacle. I didn't mind. I was looking forward to whatever mistake he would make next.
    But his brain was working again. He stood still for a minute and took stock.
    "Better get rid of me quickly," I said, in a helpful sort of way. "Old man Underwood will be coming to see what all the noise is about."
    "No, he won't. We're too high up."
    "Only two floors."
    "And he's deaf in one ear. He never hears anything."
    "His missus—"
    "Shut up. I'm thinking. You did something then, both times.... What was it...?" He snapped his fingers. "My name! That's it! You used it to deflect my spells, curse you."
    I studied my fingernails, eyebrows raised. "Might have, might not. It's for me to know and you to find out."
    The kid stamped his foot again. "Stop it! Don't speak to me like that!"
    "Like what?"
    "Like you just did! You're speaking like a child."
    "Takes one to know one, bud."
    This was fun. I was really riling him. The loss of his name had made him lose his cool. He was seconds away from another attack, I could tell—he had the stance and everything. I adopted a similar, but defensive pose, like a sumo wrestler. Ptolemy had been exactly this boy's height, dark hair and everything,[4] so it was nice and symmetrical.
     
    [4] Better-looking by far, of course.
     
    With an effort, the kid controlled himself. You could see him flicking through all his lessons, trying to remember what he should do. He had realized that an ordinary quick-fire punishment was out of the question now: I'd just send it back at him.
    "I'll find another way," he muttered darkly. "Wait and see."
    "Ooh, I'm really scared," I said. "Watch me shiver."
    The kid was thinking hard. There were big gray bags under his eyes. Every time he made an incantation he wore himself out further, which suited me just fine. Some magicians have been known to drop dead simply from overexertion. It's a high-stress lifestyle they have, poor things.
    His thinking went on for a long time. I gave an ostentatious yawn and made a watch appear on my wrist so that I could glance at it wearily.
    "Why not ask the boss?" I suggested. "He'll help you out."
    "My master? You must be joking."
    "Not that old fool. The one who's directing you against Lovelace."
    The boy wrinkled his brow. "There's no one. I don't have a boss."
    Now it was my turn to look blank.
    "I'm acting on my own."
    I whistled. "You mean you really summoned me on your lonesome? Not bad... for a kid." I tried to sound suitably sycophantic. "Well then, let me give you a tip. The best thing now is for you to let me go. You need a rest. Have you looked in a mirror recently? One without an imp inside, I mean? There are worry lines there. Not good at your age. It'll be gray hairs next. What will you do then when you meet your first succubus?[5] Put her right off, it will."
     
    [5] Succubus: a seductively shaped djinni in female form. Oddly popular with male magicians.
     
    I was talking too much, I