The Golem's Eye

a cup from the tray.
    Anne was frowning at the sling. "How?" she said simply.
    "Got into a fight." He took a swig of tea. "Last night, at the meeting house behind the Black Dog Pub. Commoners' action group, so called. I was trying to get them interested in some real positive action. They were scared; refused point-blank. I got a bit angry, told them what I thought of them. Bit of a scrap." He made a face. "It's nothing."
    "You idiot, Nick," Kitty said. "You're hardly going to recruit anyone that way."
    He scowled. "You should have heard them. They're terrified."
    "Cowards," Stanley slurped loudly from his cup.
    "Of what?" Anne asked.
    "You name it: demons, magicians, spies, spheres, magic of any kind, police, reprisals.... Useless."
    "Well, it's no wonder," Kitty said. "They don't have our advantages, do they?"
    Nick shook his head. "Who knows? They won't take risks to find out. I dropped hints about the kinds of thing we did—mentioned that carpet shop the other night, for instance—but they just went all quiet, drank their beers, and refused to answer. There's no commitment anywhere." He plunked his cup down angrily on the counter.
    "We need the Chief back," Fred said. "He'll tell us what to do."
    Kitty's anger rose to the surface once more. "No one wants to get involved in stuff like the carpet job—it's messy and dangerous and above all it affects commoners more than magicians. That's the point, Nick: we've got to show them we're doing more than just blowing stuff up. Show them we're leading them somewhere—"
    "Listen to her," Stanley crowed. "Kitty's getting soft."
    "Look, you little creep—"
    Anne clinked the edge of her cup twice against the glass counter, so hard it cracked. She was looking toward the shop door. Slowly, without following her gaze, everyone dispersed around the room. Kitty went behind the counter; Nick returned to the backroom; Fred picked up his box again.
    The shop door opened and a young thin man in a buttoned raincoat slipped around it. He removed his hood, revealing a shock of dark hair. With a slightly timid smile, he approached the counter, where Kitty was inspecting the receipts in the till. "Morning," she said. "Can I help you?"
    "Good morning, miss." The man scratched his nose. "I work for the Security Ministry. I wonder if I might ask you a couple of questions."
    Kitty put the receipts down and rewarded him with her full attention. "Fire away."
    The smile broadened. "Thank you. You may have read about some unpleasant incidents in the news recently. Explosions and other acts of terror not far from here."
    The newspaper was beside her on the counter. "Yes," Kitty agreed. "I did."
    "These wicked acts have injured many ordinary decent people, as well as damaged the property of our noble leaders," the man said. "It is imperative we find the perpetrators before they strike again."
    Kitty nodded. "Absolutely."
    "We are asking honest citizens to look out for anything suspicious—strangers in your area, odd activities, that sort of thing. Have you noticed anything untoward, miss?"
    Kitty considered. "It's tricky. There are always strangers around here. We're near the quays, of course. Foreign sailors, merchants... it's hard to keep track."
    "You haven't seen anything specific that you can bring to mind?"
    Kitty thought hard. "I'm afraid not."
    The man's smile turned rueful. "Well, come to us if you do see anything. There are great rewards for informants."
    "I most certainly shall."
    His eyes studied her face; he turned away. A moment later, he had slipped out and was walking across the street to the next shop. Kitty noticed he had forgotten to pull his hood back over his head, despite the pouring rain.
    One by one, the others emerged from aisles and recesses. Kitty gave Anne and Fred questioning looks. They were both white-faced and perspiring. "I take it he wasn't a man," she said dryly. Fred shook his head.
    Anne said: "A thing with a beetle's head, all black, with red mouth parts. Its feelers were right out, almost touching you. Ugh, how could you not tell?"
    "That's not one of my talents," Kitty said shortly.
    "They're closing in," Nick muttered. His eyes were wide; he spoke almost to himself. "We need to do something definite soon, or they'll get us. Just one mistake is all it'll take...."
    "Hopkins has a plan, I think." Anne was trying to be reassuring. "He'll get us the breakthrough. You'll see."
    "I hope so," Stanley said. He cursed. "I wish I could see like you, Anne."
    She