The Golem's Eye

its black-eyed stare. "You knocked yourself out, like the idiot you are. The golem was approaching, doubtless planning to take the Staff and crush your head like a melon. It was foiled—"
    "By your prompt action?" Nathaniel said. "If so, I'm grateful, Bartimaeus."
    "Me? Save you? Please—someone I know might be listening. No. My magic is canceled out by the golem's, remember? I sat back to watch the show. In fact... it was the girl and her friend. They saved you. Wait—don't mock! I do not lie. The boy distracted it while the girl climbed on the golem's back, tore the manuscript from its mouth, and threw it to the ground. Even as she did so, the golem seized her and the boy—incinerated them in seconds. Then its life force ebbed and it finally froze, inches from your sorry neck."
    Nathaniel's eyes narrowed in doubt. "Ridiculous! It makes no sense!"
    "I know, I know. Why should she save you? The mind boggles, Nat, but save you she did. And if you don't think it's true, well—seeing's believing." The djinni brought a hand out from behind its back, held something out. "This is what she plucked from the mouth." Nathaniel recognized the paper instantly; it was identical to the one he'd seen in Prague, but this time furled and sealed with a daub of thick black wax. He took it slowly, gazed across at the golem's gaping mouth and back again.
    "The girl..." He couldn't accommodate the thought. "But I was taking her to the Tower; I'd hunted her out. No—she'd kill me, not save my life. I don't believe you, djinni. You're lying. She's alive. She's fled the place."
    Bartimaeus shrugged. "Whatever you say. That's why she left the Staff with you when you were helpless."
    "Oh..." This was a point. Nathaniel frowned. The Staff was the Resistance's great prize. The girl would never willingly give it up. Perhaps she was dead. He looked down at the manuscript again. A sudden thought occurred to him.
    "According to Kavka, the name of our enemy will be written on the parchment," he said. "Let's look! We can find out who's behind the golem."
    "I doubt you'll have time," the djinni said. "Watch out—there it goes!"
    With a melancholy hiss, a yellow flame erupted from the surface of the scroll. Nathaniel cried out and dropped the parchment hastily to the cobblestones, where it juddered and burned.
    "Once out of the golem's mouth, the spell's so strong it soon consumes itself," Bartimaeus went on. "Never mind. You know what happens now?"
    "The golem is destroyed?"
    "Yes—but more than that. It returns to its master first." Nathaniel stared at his slave with sudden understanding. Bartimaeus raised an amused eyebrow. "Might be interesting, you think?"
    "Very much so." Nathaniel felt a surge of grim elation. "You're sure of this?"
    "I saw it happen, long ago in Prague."
    "Well, then..." He stepped past the smoldering fragments of the parchment and hobbled over to the golem, wincing at the pain in his side. "Ahh, my stomach really hurts. It's almost like someone fell on it."
    "Eerie."
    "No matter." Nathaniel reached the Staff, picked it up. "Now," he said, stepping clear of the golem's bulk once more, "let's see."
    The flames died away; the manuscript was nothing but ash drifting in the breeze. An odd dark scent hung in the air.
    "Kavka's lifeblood," Bartimaeus said. "All gone now." Nathaniel made a face.
     
    As the last wisp of paper vanished, a shudder ran through the golem's transfixed body; the arms wobbled, the head jerked spasmodically, the chest rose, then fell. A faint sighing, as of a dying breath, was heard. A moment's silence; the stone giant was quite still. Then, with the wrenched creaking of an old tree in a storm, the great back rose, the outstretched arm fell against its side, the golem stood straight once more. Its head tilted, as if deep in thought. Deep in the forehead, the golem's eye was blank and dead: the commanding intelligence rested there no longer. But still the body moved.
    Nathaniel and the djinni stood aside as the creature turned and with weary steps began to trudge off across the courtyard. It paid no heed to them. It went at the same remorseless pace that it had always used; from a distance, it carried the same energy as before. But already a transformation was taking place: small cracks extended out across the surface of the body. They began in the center of the torso, where previously the stone had been smooth and strong, and radiated toward the limbs. Little pieces of clay broke from the surface and