The Golem's Eye

fingers clasping. But it was not a man; if anything, it looked more like a horribly distorted kind of monkey, oversized and very stretched. It had pale green fur across its body, except around its head and muzzle, where the fur grew dark green, almost black. The malevolent eyes were yellow. It cocked its head and smiled at them, flexing its tapering hands. A slender ribbed tail thrashed behind it like a whip, making the air sing.
    For a brief moment, neither Jakob nor Kitty could speak or move. Then...
    "Back, back, back!" This was Kitty; Jakob was dumbstruck, rooted to the spot. She grasped the collar of his shirt and pulled him, turning as she did so.
    Hands in pockets, tie tucked neatly into a moleskin waistcoat, a gentleman in a black suit stood blocking the other exit from the bridge. He was not the slightest bit out of breath.
    Kitty's hand remained clawed in Jakob's collar. She could not let him go. She faced one way, he the other. She felt his hand reach out and, scrabbling at the fabric of her T-shirt, clutch it fast. There was no sound but their terrified breathing and the swishing of the monster's tail through the air. A crow passed overhead, cawing loudly. Kitty heard blood pounding in her ears.
    The gentleman did not seem in a hurry to speak. He was fairly short, but stocky and of powerful build. His round face had, at its center, an uncommonly long, sharp nose and, even in those moments of abject terror, suggested to Kitty something of a sundial. The face seemed without expression.
    Jakob was trembling at her side. Kitty knew he would not speak.
    "Please sir—" she began hoarsely. "W-what do you want?"
    There was a long pause; it appeared as if the gentleman was loath to address her. When he did, it was with terrifying softness. "Some years ago," he said, "I purchased my Rolls-Royce at auction. It was in much need of repair, but even so, it cost me a considerable sum. Since then I have spent a great deal more on it, fitting new bodywork, tires, engine, and above all an original front windscreen of tinted crystal, to make my machine perhaps the finest example in London. Call it a hobby for me, a small diversion from my work. Only yesterday, after many months of searching, I located an original porcelain number-plate and affixed it to the bonnet. At last, my vehicle was complete. Today I took it out for a spin. What happens? I am attacked, from nowhere, by two commoners' brats. You smash my windscreen, you make me lose control; I collide with a lamppost, destroying bodywork, tires, and engine, and shattering my number-plate in a dozen places. My car is ruined. It will never run again..." He paused for breath; a fat pink tongue flicked across his lips. "What do I want? Well, first I am curious to know what you have to say."
    Kitty looked from side to side in search of inspiration. "Erm... would 'Sorry' be a start?"
    "Sorry?
    "Yes, sir. It was an accident, you see, and we didn't—"
    "After what you've done? After the damage you've caused? Two vicious little commoners—"
    Tears studded Kitty's eyes. "That's not so!" she said desperately. "We didn't mean to hit your car. We were just playing! We couldn't even see the road!"
    "Playing? In this private park?"
    "It's not private. Well, if it is, it shouldn't be!" Against her better judgment, Kitty found herself almost shouting. "There's no one else enjoying it, is there? We weren't doing any harm. Why shouldn't we come here?"
    "Kitty," Jakob croaked. "Shut up."
    "Nemaides—" the gentleman addressed the monkey-thing on the opposite side of the bridge—"come a step or two closer, would you? I have some business I wish you to take care of."
    Kitty heard the gentle tapping of claws on metal; felt Jakob cringing at her side.
    "Sir," she said quietly, "we're sorry about your car. Truly we are."
    "Then why," said the magician, "did you run away and not stay to admit responsibility?"
    A small, small sound: "Please, sir... we were scared."
    "How very wise. Nemaides... I think the Black Tumbler, don't you?"
    Kitty heard a cracking of giant knuckles, and a deep, thoughtful voice. "Of what velocity? They are of under average size."
    "I think rather severe, don't you? It was an expensive car. Take care of it." The magician seemed to feel his part in the matter was concluded; he turned, hands still in pockets, and began to limp off back toward the distant gate.
    Perhaps if they could run... Kitty dragged at Jakob's collar "Come on—!"
    His face was a deathly white; she