The Golem's Eye

concrete..."
    "Ah."
    "Other than that, you'd be laughing."
    "Well, if it's so easy," Kitty demanded hotly, "how come the magicians haven't stopped it?"
    The djinni gave a cold smile. "Because it would require personal bravery. They never do anything themselves. They rely on us the whole time. Mandrake gives me an order, I obey. He sits at home, I go out and suffer. That's the way it works."
    The boy's voice had grown old and tired. Kitty nodded. "Sounds tough."
    A shrug. "That's the way it works. No choice. That's why I'm interested in you coming out to rescue Hyrnek. Let's face it, it was a stupid decision, and you didn't have to make it. No one's forcing you to do anything. You got it wrong, but for admirable reasons. Believe me, it makes a change to see that after hanging around with magicians for so long."
    "I didn't get it wrong," Kitty said. "How long has it been?"
    "Five thousand years or more. Off and on. You get the odd break down the centuries, but just as one empire falls, there's always another rising up. Britain's only the latest."
    Kitty looked out into the shadows. "And Britain'll fall too, in time."
    "Oh, yes. The cracks are already showing. You should read more, you'll see the patterns. Aha... someone's below. At last..."
    The boy stood up. Kitty did likewise. To her ears now came scuffling sounds, a couple of whispered curses drifting up the staircase. Her heart began to beat fast. Once more, she wondered if she should run; once more, she quelled the instinct down.
    The djinni looked across at her, grinned. Its teeth flashed very white. "You know, I've quite enjoyed our conversation," it said. "I hope they don't order me to kill you."
     
    Girl and demon stood together, waiting in the darkness. Steps ascended the stairs.

43
     
    Nathaniel
     
    Nathaniel was escorted to Whitehall in an armored limousine, accompanied by Jane Farrar and three silent officers of the Night Police. Jakob Hyrnek sat to his left, a policeman to his right. Nathaniel noticed that the officer had great rips and tears in the trousers of his uniform, and that the nails on his great callused hands were torn. The air was thick with the smell of musk. He looked across at Jane Farrar, sitting impassively in the front seat, and found himself wondering whether she was a werewolf, too. Altogether, he doubted it: she seemed too controlled, too slight of build. But then again, you could never tell.
    At Westminster Hall, Nathaniel and Jakob were taken straight to the great Reception Chamber, where the ceiling glowed with vigilance spheres and the Prime Minister and his lords sat around the polished table. Unusually, no edible delicacies were on display, indicating the perceived seriousness of the situation. Each minister had only a humble bottle of carbonated water and a glass. The Police Chief now sat in the chair of honor next to the Prime Minister, his face heavy with satisfaction. Ms. Whitwell was relegated to a seat on the margins. Nathaniel did not look at her. His eyes were fixed on the Prime Minister, looking for readable signs; but Mr. Devereaux was gazing at the table.
    No one but the chief ministers were there. Mr. Makepeace was not present.
    The escorting officers saluted at Police Chief Duvall and, at his signal, shuffled from the room. Jane Farrar stepped forward. She coughed delicately.
    Mr. Devereaux looked up. He sighed the sigh of a man about to carry out a regretful task. "Yes, Ms. Farrar? You have something to report?"
    "I do, sir. Has Mr. Duvall given you any details?"
    "He has mentioned something of the matter. Please be brief."
    "Yes, sir. For some days, we have been observing the activities of John Mandrake. Several small discrepancies about his recent affairs made us attentive: he has displayed a certain vagueness and inconsistency in his actions."
    "I protest!" Nathaniel interrupted as suavely as he could. "My demon destroyed the renegade afrit—I can hardly be accused of vagueness there."
    Mr. Devereaux held up a hand. "Yes, yes, Mandrake. You will have your chance to speak. In the meantime, please be silent."
    Jane Farrar cleared her throat. "If I might expand, sir: in the last few days Mandrake has several times embarked on solitary trips across London, at a time of crisis when all magicians were required to remain at Westminster to receive orders. This afternoon, when he once more departed mysteriously, we sent vigilance spheres out to follow him. We traced him to a house in east London, where he met his