The Golem's Eye

have to see him."
    "I don't think that will be possible. The doctors—" But Kitty was already gone.
    He was sitting up in bed, wearing a brand-new pair of blue pajamas that still had the creases in the sleeves. His variegated hands were folded in his lap. A glass bowl of grapes sat untouched upon the counterpane. Two bright white circles of fresh gauze were strapped across his eyes, and a short fuzz of hair was growing upon his scalp. His face was as she remembered, stained by its dreadful wash of gray and black.
    As she entered, he broke into a small, twisted smile.
    "Kitty! That was quick."
    Trembling, she approached the bed and took his hand. "How—how did you know it was me?"
    "No one else comes up the stairs like a bull elephant the way you do. You all right?"
    She glanced at her unblemished, pink-white hands. "Yes. Fine."
    "I heard about that." He tried to maintain his smile, failed narrowly. "You're lucky.... I'm glad."
    "Yes. How are you feeling?"
    "Oh, knackered. Sick. Like a round of smoked bacon. My skin's painful when I move. And itchy. That'll all pass, they say. And my eyes are healing."
    Kitty felt a surge of relief. "That's great! When—?"
    "Sometime. I don't know...." He seemed suddenly weary, irritable. "Never mind all that. Tell me what's been going on. I hear you've been to the Courts."
    She told him the whole story, except her encounter with Mr. Pennyfeather. Jakob sat upright in bed, smoky-faced and somber. At the finish, he sighed.
    "You are so stupid, Kitty," he said.
    "Thanks for that." She ripped a few grapes off the bunch and stuffed them savagely into her mouth.
    "My mum told you not to. She said—"
    "She and everyone else. They are all so right and I am so wrong." She spat grape seeds into her palm and threw them into a bin beside the bed.
    "Believe me, I'm grateful for what you tried to do. I'm sorry you're suffering on my account now."
    "It's no big deal. We'll find the money."
    "Everyone knows the Courts are rigged—it's not what you've done that counts there, it's who you are and who you know."
    "All right! Don't go on about it." Kitty wasn't in the mood for lectures.
    "I won't." He grinned, a little more successfully than before. "I can feel your scowl through the bandages."
    They sat in silence for a while. At last, Jakob said, "Anyway, you needn't think that Tallow will get off scot-free." He rubbed the side of his face.
    "Don't rub. What do you mean?"
    "It's just so itchy! Meaning there are ways other than the Courts...."
    "Such as?"
    "Ahh! It's no good, I'll have to sit on my hands. Well, come in close— something might be listening.... Right. Tallow, being a magician, will think he's away and clear. He won't give me another thought now, if he ever has. And he certainly won't connect me with Hyrnek's."
    "Your dad's firm?"
    "Well, whose else is it? Of course my dad's firm. And that's going to be costly for Tallow. Like a lot of other magicians, he gets his books of magic bound at Hyrnek's. Karel told me: he's checked the accounts. Tallow places orders with us every couple of years. Likes a maroon crocodile-skin binding, does Tallow, so we can add lack of taste to his other crimes. Well, we can afford to wait. Sooner or later, he'll send in another book for us to treat, or order something up... Ah! I can't bear it! I've got to scratch!"
    "Don't, Jakob—have a grape instead. Take your mind off it."
    "It won't do any good. I wake up scratching my face in the night. Mum has to wrap my hands in bandages. But it's killing me now—you'll have to call Mum for some cream."
    "I'd better leave."
    "In a minute. But, I was saying—it won't just be the binding of Tallow's book that gets changed next time."
    Kitty wrinkled her forehead. "What—the spells inside?"
    Jakob gave a grim smile. "It's possible to substitute pages, doctor sentences, or alter diagrams if you know what you're doing. In fact, it's more than possible—it's downright easy for people my dad knows. We'll sabotage a few likely incantations and then... we'll see."
    "Won't he notice?"
    "He'll simply read the spell, draw the pentacle, or whatever it is he does, and then... who knows? Nasty things happen to magicians when spells go wrong. It's a precise art, my dad tells me." Jakob settled back against the pillows. "It may be years before Tallow falls into the trap—but so what? I'm in it for the long haul. My face'll still be ruined in four, five years' time. I can wait." He turned his face away suddenly. "You'd better