The Golem's Eye

did! You're all callous and wicked and heartless and vain!"
    "Vain?" The boy adjusted the tilt of his handkerchief. "How wonderfully hysterical. I'm just well turned out. Presentation's important, you know."
    "Nothing's important to you—get off me, Mum." In her fury, Kitty had risen; her mother, half-maddened by distress, was clutching at her from the side. Kitty pushed her away. "Oh" she snarled, "and if you want a tip on presentation, those trousers are far too tight."
    "Is that so?" The boy rose too, his coat billowing about him. "I've heard enough. You'll be able to refine your sartorial opinions at leisure in the Tower of London."
    "No!" Kitty's mother sank to the floor. "Please, Mr. Mandrake..."
    Kitty's father was standing as if his bones pained him. "Is there nothing we can do?"
    The magician shook his head. "I'm afraid your daughter has long since chosen her path. I regret it for your sakes, since you are loyal to the State."
    "She has always been a headstrong girl," Kitty's father said quietly, "but I never realized she was wicked, too. That incident with Jakob Hyrnek should have taught us something, but we always hoped for the best, Iris and me. And now, with our armies going off to war in America, and threats as never before on every side, to find our girl's a traitor, neck-deep in crime... Well, it's broken me, it really has, Mr. Mandrake. I always tried to bring her up right."
    "I'm sure you did," the magician said hastily. "Nevertheless—"
    "I used to take her to watch the march-pasts, see the soldiers during the festivals. I had her on my shoulders on Imperial Day, when the crowds in Trafalgar cheered the Prime Minister for an hour. You might not remember that, Mr. Mandrake, you're so young yourself, but it was a grand occasion. And now that little daughter of mine's gone, and in her place is this surly vixen, who's got no respect for her parents, her betters... or her country." There was a catch in his voice as he finished.
    "You really are an idiot, Dad," Kitty said.
    Her mother was still half-kneeling on the floor, beseeching the magician. "Not the Tower for her, Mr. Mandrake, please."
    "I'm sorry, Mrs. Jones—"
    "It's all right, Mum—" Kitty did not hide her contempt. "You can get off your knees. He won't be taking me to the Tower. I don't see how he can."
    "Oh yes?" The boy looked amused. "You doubt that, do you?"
    Kitty peered into the far corners of the room. "You seem to be alone."
    A faint smile. "Only in a manner of speaking. Now, then. An official car waits in the next street. Are you going to come with me quietly?"
    "No, Mr. Mandrake, I am not." Kitty launched herself forward; swung a fist. It caught the boy on his cheekbone with a dull crack; he capsized, sprawling into the chair. Kitty stepped over her prone mother and made for the door, but a firm grasp on her shoulder jerked her back. Her father: white-faced, eyes blank and staring.
    "Dad—leave off!" She wrenched at his sleeve, but his grip was iron-strong.
    "What have you done?" He looked at her as if she were something monstrous, an abomination. "What have you done?"
    "Dad... Just let me go. Please, just let me go."
    Kitty struggled, but her father only gripped the harder. From her position on the floor, her mother reached out to clutch Kitty's leg halfheartedly, as if uncertain whether she intended supplication or restraint. Over in the chair, the magician, who had been shaking his head like a fuddled dog, turned his gaze toward them. His eyes, when they focused, were venomous. He spoke a few harsh syllables in a strange tongue and clapped his hands. Kitty and her parents stopped their struggle; a brackish vapor seeped from nowhere into the air. At its heart, a dark form: blueblack, with slender horns and leathery wings, appraising them with a wicked leer.
    The magician rubbed the side of his jaw and flexed it. "The girl," he said. "Secure her and don't let go. You may grasp her hair as painfully as you wish."
    The creature chirruped harshly in answer, beat its wings, and flew out of its vapor nest. Kitty's father gave a low moan; his grasp on Kitty's shoulder loosened. Her mother flung herself back against the corner of the dresser and hid her face.
    "Is that the best you can do?" Kitty said. "A mouler? Please." She stretched out a hand, and before the startled creature could even reach her, seized it by its neck, swung it around her head a few times, and threw it back into the magician's face, where it burst with a