The Golem's Eye

with your"—he peered cautiously from side to side—"with your you know, my cousin reckons there are strong links to underground movements there, too. It would be far safer—"
    "I know." Kitty shoved her hands into her pockets, blew out her cheeks. "You're quite right. All of you are quite right. But that's sort of the point. I think I need to be here, where the magic's happening, where the demons are."
    "But why—"
    "Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for the new identity." She patted her jacket pocket, felt the papers crackle. "It's just, well, some things that demon Bartimaeus said have... set me thinking."
    He shook his head. "This is what I can't fathom," he said. "You're going on the word of a demon—one that kidnapped me, threatened you—"
    "I know! It's just he wasn't what I expected at all. He talked about the past, about patterns repeating themselves, about the rise and fall of the magicians through history. It happens, Jakob, time and time again. No one manages to break out of the cycle—not commoners, not demons, not magicians. We're all stuck fast, trapped in a wheel of hate and fear—"
    "Not me," he said firmly. "I'm getting out."
    "You think Brugges is safe? Get real. 'The Empire keeps its distance, most of the time'—that's what you said. You're still part of it, like it or not. That's why I want to stay here, in London, where the information is. There are great libraries, Jakob, where the magicians store their historical records. Pennyfeather used to tell me about them. If I could get access, get a job there somehow... I could learn something—about demons, in particular." She shrugged. "I don't know enough yet, that's all."
    He snorted. "Of course you don't. You're not a cursed magician."
    "But from what Bartimaeus said, the magicians don't know much either. About demons. They just use them. That's the point. We—the Resistance—weren't getting anywhere. We were just as bad as the magicians, using magic without understanding it. I already knew that, really, and Bartimaeus kind of confirmed it. You should have heard him, Jakob—"
    "Like I said, you're an idiot. Listen, that's my call." A deep siren sounded from somewhere up on the ferry; seagulls wheeled into the sky. He leaned forward, gave her a rapid hug. She kissed him on the cheek. "Don't get killed," he said. "Write to me. You've got the address."
    "Sure."
    "I'll see you in Brugges. Before the month is out."
    She grinned. "We'll see."
     
    She watched him trot down to the gangway, thrust his papers under the nose of an attendant, receive a cursory stamp on his passport, and clamber up on board. The canopy was removed, the gangway drawn back. Jakob took up position at the rail. He waved to her as the ship moved away. His face, like those of the other travelers, was aglow. Kitty smiled, rummaged in a pocket, and drew out a dirty handkerchief. She waved it until the ship banked and was lost from view around the curve of the Thames.
    Then Kitty replaced the handkerchief in her pocket, turned, and set off up along the quay. Quite soon she was hidden by the crowd.
     
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