The Golem's Eye

all their jewels."
    For a few minutes, Kitty lay silently on her back, watching the clouds. A thought occurred to her. "So, let me get this right..." she began. "If your dad, and his dad before him, have always worked on spell books for magicians, they must have read a lot of the spells, right? So that means—"
    "I can see where you're going with this. Yeah, they must have seen stuff, enough to know to keep well clear of it, anyway. But a lot of it's written in weird languages, and you need more than just the words; I think there are things to draw, and potions and all sorts of horrid extras to learn, if you're going to master demons. It's not something anybody decent wants to be part of; my dad just keeps his head down and makes the books." He sighed. "Mind you, people have always assumed my family is in on it all. After the magicians fell from power in Prague, one of my grandpapa's uncles was chased by a mob and thrown from a high window. Landed on a roof and died. Grandpapa came to England soon after and started the business again. It was safer for him here. Anyway..." He sat up, stretched. "Whether those crows are demons, I very much doubt. What would they be doing sitting in a tree? Come on—" He tossed her the bat. "Your turn, and I bet I get you out first ball."
    To Kitty's vast frustration, this was exactly what he did. And the next time, and the next. The park rang with the metallic bong of cricket ball on drinking fountain. Jakob's whoops resounded high and low. At last, Kitty threw down the bat. "This isn't fair!" she cried. "You've weighted the ball, or something."
    "It's called sheer skill. My turn."
    "One more go."
    "All right." Jakob tossed the ball with an ostentatiously gentle underarm throw. Kitty swung the bat with savage desperation, and to her vast surprise made contact so firmly that she jarred her arm up to her elbow.
    "Yes! A hit! Catch that one if you can!" She began a dance of victory, expecting to see Jakob pelting off across the lawn... but he was quite stationary, standing in an uncertain posture and gazing up into the sky somewhere up behind her head.
    Kitty turned and looked. The ball, which she had contrived to swipe high up over her shoulder, plummeted serenely out of the sky, down, down, down, behind the wall, out of the park, into the road.
    There followed a terrible smash of breaking glass, a squeal of tires, a loud, metallic crump.
    Silence. A faint hissing sound from behind the wall, as of steam escaping from a broken machine.
    Kitty looked at Jakob. He looked at her.
    Then they ran.
    Hard across the grass they went, making for the distant bridge. They ran side by side, heads down, fists pumping, not looking back. Kitty was still holding the bat. It weighed her down; with a gasp she tossed it from her grip. At this, Jakob gave a gulping cry and skidded to a halt.
    "You idiot! My name's on it—" He darted back; Kitty slowed, turned to watch him pick it up. As she did so, she saw, in the middle distance, an open gate in the wall, leading to the road. A figure in black limped into view; it stood in the center of the gateway, looking into the park.
    Jakob had seized the bat and was coming on again. "Hurry up!" she panted, as he fell in alongside. "There's someone..." She gave up, hadn't the breath to speak more.
    "Almost there—" Jakob led the way past the edge of the lake, where flocks of wild fowl squawked and plumed out in fear across the water; under the shadows of the beech trees, and up a slight rise toward the metal bridge. "We'll be safe... once we're over... hide in the craters... aren't far now..."
    Kitty had a strong desire to look behind her; in her mind's eye she saw the figure in black running after them across the grass. The image gave her a crawling sensation down the skin on her spine. But they were going too fast for it to catch them; it would be all right, they were going to get away.
     
    Jakob ran up onto the bridge, Kitty following. Their feet pounded like jackhammers, sending up a hollow clatter and the hum of vibrating metal. Up to the top, down the other side...
    Something stepped from nowhere onto the end of the bridge.
    Jakob and Kitty both cried out. Their headlong rush came to an abrupt halt; they stopped dead, crashing hard against each other in their supreme, instinctive effort to avoid colliding with the thing.
    It stood as tall as a man, and indeed carried itself as if this were so, standing upright on two long legs, with arms outstretched, and