The Golem's Eye

read the history books—it's no wonder you're so powerful ignorant." The demon shuffled around on his bottom to face her. "How do you think Carthage fell? Or Persia? Or Rome? Sure, there were enemy states ready to take advantage of the empires' weaknesses, but it was the divisions within that really did for them. Romulus Augustulus, for instance, spent half his reign trying to control his own people, and all the while Ostrogoths with big mustaches were tramping down through Italy. His djinn couldn't control the plebs any longer, you see. Why? Because so many of them had become like you—resilient to our magic. Detonations, Fluxes, Infernos—scarcely singed their beards. And of course the people knew that, so they wanted their rights, they wanted the magicians overthrown at last. There was so much confusion that hardly anyone noticed the barbarian horde before it ransacked Rome." The boy scratched its nose. "In a way, I think it came as a relief. Fresh start and all that. No more magicians in the Eternal City for a long, long time."
    Kitty blinked. Her knowledge of history was scanty, and the strange names and places meant little to her, but the implications were startlingly clear. "Are you saying that most of the Romans were resilient to magic?"
    "Oh, no. About thirty percent, maybe. In varying degrees, of course. You don't need more than that for a good uprising."
    "But we never managed more than eleven! And London's huge!"
    "Eleven percent? That's not too bad."
    "No. Eleven. That was it."
    The boy raised his eyebrows. "Blimey, your recruitment policy can't have been too snappy. But then again, it's early days. How long is it since Gladstone set up shop? Hundred and fifty years or so? Well, that's your answer. Resilience to magic takes a long time to build up in the general population. Magicians had ruled in Rome for five hundred years before the revolutions came. That's an awful lot of magic seeping through the city. Gradually more and more children are born with talents of one sort or another. What else can you do, for instance? See us?"
    "No." Kitty made a face. "Anne and Fred could do that. I'm just... good at surviving."
    The boy grinned. "That's no mean talent. Don't knock it."
    "Stanley could see magic in stuff as well—that's how we knew you had that necklace."
    "What? Oh, the Amulet. Yep, that kind of sight's another one. Well, there are probably all sorts of abilities bubbling up in London's population right now. Must be hundreds of people with the power. But you've got to remember, most people won't be aware they've got an ability at all. It takes time for the knowledge to spread. How did you find out?"
    It was all Kitty could do to remember that this slight, polite, and very informative boy was actually a demon, something to be loathed and shunned. She opened her mouth to speak and hesitated. The boy rolled its eyes in annoyance and raised its hands. "Look, don't think I'm going to tell anyone this, least of all my master. I don't owe him anything. Still, far be it from me to force it out of you. I'm not a magician." It sounded rather huffy.
    "A demon hit me with a Black Tumbler." Her small confidence took Kitty rather by surprise; she found herself saying it without thinking.
    "Oh, yes. Tallow's monkey. I forgot." The boy stretched lazily. "Well, you'll be pleased to know Tallow's dead now. An afrit got him. Quite stylishly, too. No—I won't give you the details. Not unless you tell me more about you. What happened after the Tumbler?" And Kitty, despite herself, was soon recounting her story.
    At the finish, the demon shrugged ruefully. "You see, the problem with this Pennyfeather was that he was too much like the magicians, wasn't he? Greedy, close, and clasping. Wanted to keep everything nice and secret, all for himself. Small wonder you had only eleven members. If you want to get a revolution going, my tip is to get the people on your side. All those explosions and thefts were never going to get you anywhere."
    Kitty scowled. The demon's blithe assurance on the matter rankled. "I suppose not."
    " 'Course they weren't. Education's the thing. Knowledge of the past. That's why the magicians give you such ropy schooling. I bet you had endless triumphal stuff about why Britain's so great." He chuckled. "The funny thing is, the people's growing resilience always comes as a surprise to the magicians, too. Each empire thinks it's different, thinks it won't happen to them. They forget the lessons of the