The Golem's Eye

lightning bolts were emitted near the head of the column, then it sank away into the floor like a solid thing, taking the magician with it.
    An instant later, both pentacles were empty, except for a telltale scorch where the magician had once stood, and a charred book lying beside it.
    Throughout the summoning chamber, there was stunned silence. The magicians stood dumbfounded, their clerks limp and sagging in their seats.
    Then the whole place erupted into noise; those magicians who had already suitably bound their slaves, my master among them, stepped from their pentacles and gathered around the scorch mark, stewy-faced and jabbering. We higher beings began a cheery and approving chatter. I exchanged a few remarks with the green miasma and the stilt-legged bird.
    "Nice one."
    "Stylishly done."
    "That lucky beggar. You could tell she could hardly believe it."
    "Well, how often does a chance like that come along?"
    "All too rarely. I remember one time, back in Alexandria. There was this young apprentice—"
    "The fool must have mispronounced one of the locking injunctions."
    "Either that or a printer's error. You saw he was reading straight out of a book? Well, he said exciteris before stringaris; I heard him."
    "No! Really? A beginner's mistake."
    "Exactly. It was the same with this young apprentice I mentioned; he waited till his master was away, then—now, you're not going to believe this—"
    "Bartimaeus—attend to me!" The boy strode back to his pentacle, coat billowing behind him. The other magicians were doing likewise, all across the hall. There was a sudden sense of businesslike intensity about them. My fellow slaves and I reluctantly faced our masters. "Bartimaeus," the boy said again, and his voice was shaking, "as I bade you, so you must do: go out into the world and hunt down the renegade afrit. I bid you return to me only when it is destroyed."
    "All right, steady on." The plumed serpent eyed him with something like amusement. He was getting all uptight and official with me suddenly, lots of "bids" and "bades"—this suggested he was quite upset. "What's the matter with you?" I said. "You're coming over all shocked. I thought you didn't even like the bloke."
    His face colored. "Shut up! Not another word! I am your master, as you so regularly forget. You will do as I command!"
    No more conspiratorial confidences for us. The boy was back to his old footstamping ways again. Strange what a small jolt of reality will do.
    There was no point talking to him when he was in a mood like this. The plumed serpent turned its back, coiled in upon itself and, in company with its fellow slaves, vanished from the room.

34
     
    Bartimaeus
     
    There was plenty of activity above the roofs of London that evening. As well as the forty or so heavy-duty djinn, such as me, who, after leaving the Whitehall chamber, had more or less spontaneously scattered in all directions of the compass, the air was rife with imps and foliots of varying levels of ineptitude. Barely a tower or office block existed that didn't have one or two of them skulking on lookout from its top. Down below, battalions of Night Police were marching, combing the streets with some reluctance for signs of the rogue afrit. In short, the capital was awash with government servants of every type. It was a wonder the afrit wasn't tracked down in the first few seconds.
    I spent a little time meandering vaguely around central London in gargoyle form, without any definite plan in mind. As always, my inclination to stay out of harm's way vied with my desire to complete the job and hasten my release as swiftly as possible. Trouble was, afrits are tricky blighters: very difficult to kill.
    After a while, lacking anything better to do, I flew across to an unappetizing modern high-rise—a magician's fancy, constructed of concrete and glass—to speak to the sentries on duty there.
    The gargoyle alighted with balletic grace. "Here, you two. Has that skeleton passed by here? Speak up." This was relatively polite, given that they were small blue imps—always a trying sort.
    The first imp spoke up promptly. "Yes."
    I waited. It saluted and went back to polishing its tail. The gargoyle gave a tired sigh and coughed heavily. "Well, when did you see it? Which way did it go?"
    The second imp paused in a detailed examination of its toes. "It came by about two hours ago. Don't know where it went. We were too busy hiding. It's mad, you know."
    "In what way?"
    The imp considered.