The Golem's Eye

themselves. One of the magicians hunting for you—his name is John Mandrake, I believe—has been researching your past. He has learned that some years back a Kathleen Jones appeared at the Judicial Courts, charged with assault."
    "So?" Kitty kept her face still, but her heart was suddenly beating fast. "That was a long time ago."
    "Indeed. Going through the record of the trial, he discovered that you had launched an unprovoked attack on a senior magician, for which you were fined. He regards this as one of the first attacks by the Resistance."
    "Ridiculous!" Kitty exploded with fury. "It was an accident! We had no idea—"
    "Furthermore," Mr. Hopkins went on, "he knows that you did not launch this attack alone."
    Kitty sat very still. "What? He doesn't think—"
    "Mr. Mandrake believes—whether rightly or wrongly is perhaps beside the point—that your friend... What was his name, now? Jakob something..."
    "Hyrnek. Jakob Hyrnek."
    "That's it. He believes Master Hyrnek is associated with the Resistance, too."
    "That's ridiculous—!"
    "Even so, at some point this morning, he sent his demon to take your friend away for questioning. Oh dear; I thought it might upset you."
    It took Kitty a few seconds to gather herself. When she spoke, it was haltingly. "But I haven't even seen Jakob for years. He knows nothing."
    "Mr. Mandrake will doubtless discover as much. Eventually."
    Kitty's head spun. She tried to gather her thoughts. "Where have they taken him? Is it... the Tower?"
    "I hope, my dear, that you aren't thinking of doing anything rash," Mr. Hopkins murmured. "Mr. Mandrake is considered one of the strongest of the young magicians. A talented boy; one of the Prime Minister's favorites. It would not be advisable—"
    Kitty forced herself not to scream. Every moment that they delayed, Jakob might be being tortured; demons worse than the skeleton might be surrounding him, goading him with their claws... And he was wholly innocent; he had nothing to do with her at all. What a fool she was! Her reckless actions over the last few years had endangered someone for whom she would once have given her life.
    "I would try to forget young Hyrnek," Mr. Hopkins was saying. "You can do nothing—"
    "Please," she said. "Is it the Tower of London?"
    "As a matter of fact, it is not. That would be the ordinary way of things. But I think Mandrake is trying to do things quietly by himself; to get one up on rivals in the government. He has abducted your friend in secret, and taken him to a safe house for questioning. It is unlikely to be heavily guarded. But there will be demons—"
    "I have met Mandrake." Kitty interrupted him fiercely. She was leaning forward urgently now, knocking against the milkshake glass, which jerked sideways, slopping liquid onto the cloth. "I have met him, defied him, and walked away without a backward glance. If this boy hurts Jakob," she said; "if he hurts him in any way at all, believe me, Mr. Hopkins, I will kill him with my own hands. Him and any demon who stands in my path."
    Mr. Hopkins raised his palms off the table and lowered them. It was a gesture that might have meant anything.
    "Once again," Kitty said. "Do you know where this safe house is?"
    The pale gray eyes regarded her for a time, then blinked. "Yes," he said blandly. "I do know the address. I can give it to you."

39
     
    Kitty
     
    Kitty had never been inside Mr. Pennyfeather's secret storeroom, but she knew how to operate the mechanism of the door. She trod down the metal lever hidden among the debris of the cellar floor, and pushed simultaneously against the bricks above the log pile. The brickwork shifted with a slow, weighted inward swing; there was a sudden chemical smell and a crack opening in the wall.
    Kitty squeezed through and allowed the door to close behind her.
    Utter blackness. Kitty stood frozen. Then she stretched out her hands and felt hesitantly on either side, searching for some kind of switch. First, to her utter horror, she came upon something cold and furred; even as she jerked that hand back, the other closed over a hanging thread.
    She pulled it: a click, a hum, and a soft yellow light came on.
    The furry object, Kitty was immediately relieved to see, was the hood of an old coat, hung up on a peg. Beside it were three dangling satchels. Kitty selected the largest one, placed the strap over her head, and considered the rest of the room.
    It was a small chamber, ringed from floor to ceiling with rough wooden shelves.