The Golem's Eye

about his fellow traitors? Two youths: Fred and Stanley by name?"
    "Many people worked for Mr. Pennyfeather part-time. I knew them, but not well. Is that it, Mr. Mandrake? I don't believe you have any proof at all."
    "Well, if it comes to that..." The magician sat back in his chair and grinned. "One might ask why your clothes are so covered in white stains. It almost looks like grave-mold, when seen in a certain light. One might ask why you were not at your employer's shop this morning, when it was your duty to open the doors. One might possibly draw attention to documents that I have just been reading in the Public Records Office. They relate to a certain trial: Kathleen Jones versus Julius Tallow—a most interesting case. You have a previous criminal record, Ms. Jones. Fined a considerable sum for an attack on a magician. And then, not least, there's the witness who saw you fencing stolen goods in the company of the sadly deceased Fred and Stanley; a witness whom you attacked and left for dead."
    "And who is this precious witness?" Kitty snarled. "Whoever he is, he's lying."
    "Oh, I think he's very reliable." The magician gave a little chuckle and pushed the hair back from the sides of his face. "Remember now?"
    Kitty looked at him blankly. "Remember what?"
    The magician's forehead runkled. "Well—Me, of course."
    "You? Have we met before?"
    "You don't recall? Well, it was several years ago; I admit I was different then."
    "Less foppish, perhaps?" Kitty heard her mother give a faint moan of distress; the sound had as little effect on her as if it had been uttered by a stranger.
    "Don't cheek me, girl." The magician recrossed his legs—with some difficulty, owing to the tightness of his trousers, and smiled thinly. "Mind you—why not? Fire off all the cheap comments you like. It won't make any difference to your fate."
    Now that the end had come, Kitty found she had no fear; only an overwhelming sense of irritation at the jumped-up youth sitting opposite. She folded her arms and looked him fully in the face. "So go on, then," she said. "Enlighten me."
    The boy cleared his throat. "Perhaps this will refresh your memory. Three years ago in North London... One cold December night... No?" He sighed. "An incident in a back alley?"
    Kitty shrugged wearily. "I've had a lot of incidents in alleys. You must have a forgettable face."
    "Ah, but I never forgot yours." His anger leaped to the surface now; he leaned forward in his seat, knocking the cup with an elbow, and spilling tea upon the chair. His eyes flashed guiltily at Kitty's parents. "Oh—sorry."
    Kitty's mother launched herself at the spot, dabbing with a napkin. "Don't worry, Mr. Mandrake! Please don't worry."
    "You see, Ms. Jones," the magician went on, lifting the cup off the chair arm so that Kitty's mother could dab around it more effectively, "I never forgot you, though I saw you only for a moment. Nor did I forget your colleagues, Fred and Stanley, since it was they who robbed me, they who tried to kill me."
    "Robbed you?" Kitty frowned. "What did they take?"
    "A valuable scrying glass."
    "Oh..." A dim memory swam into Kitty's mind. "You were that kid in the alley? The little spy. I remember you now—and your glass. That was a shoddy piece of work."
    "I made that!"
    "We couldn't even get it to start."
    Mr. Mandrake gathered himself with difficulty and spoke in a dangerously controlled voice. "I notice that you have stopped denying the charges."
    "Oh, yes," Kitty said, and as she did so felt more consciously alive than she had done for many months. "They're true, all right. All of what you said, and more. I'm only sorry it's all over now. No wait—I deny one thing. You said I left you for dead in that alley. That isn't so. Fred would have cut your throat, but I spared you. Heaven knows why, you miserable little sneak. I should have done the world a favor."
    "She doesn't mean this!" Her father had jumped to his feet and was standing between them, as if his body would shield the magician from his daughter's words.
    "Oh, but she does, she does." The boy was smiling, but his eyes danced with rage. "Go ahead, let her talk."
    Kitty had barely paused for breath. "I despise you and all the other magicians! You care nothing for people like us! We're just here to... to provide your food and clean your houses and make your clothes! We slave away in your factories and workshops, while you and your demons live in luxury! If we cross your paths we suffer! Like Jakob