The Golem's Eye Read Free

damage to the enemy."
    "It won't be enough," I said. "Even with ten. Have you seen the size of the army out there?"
    "As ever, Bartimaeus, your opinion is ill considered and unlooked for. This is a diversion only. We plan to get His Highness away down the eastern steps. A boat is waiting at the river. The golems will ring the castle and cover our retreat."
    Queezle was still staring at the magicians; they stooped low over their crystals, mouthing continuous silent instructions to their creatures. Faint moving images in the crystals showed each one what his or her golem saw. "The British won't bother with the monsters," Queezle said. "They'll find these operators and kill them."
    My master bared his teeth. "By then the Emperor will be gone. And that, incidentally, is my new charge for both of you—to guard His Highness during his escape. Understood?"
    I held up a paw. The magician gave a heartfelt sigh. "Yes, Bartimaeus?"
    "Well, sir," I said, "if I might make a suggestion. Prague's surrounded. If we try to escape the city with the Emperor, we'll all die horribly. So why don't we just forget the old fool and slip away instead? There's a little beer cellar on Karlova Street with a dried-up well. Not deep. The entrance is a bit small, but—"
    He frowned. "You expect me to hide in there?"
    "Well, it would be tight, but I reckon we could squeeze you in. Your pot belly might give us trouble, but it's nothing a good shove wouldn't fix—Ow!" My fur crackled; I broke off sharpish. As always, the Red-hot Stipples made me lose my train of thought.
    "Unlike you," the magician snarled, "I know the meaning of loyalty! I do not need to be compelled to act honorably toward my master. I repeat: you are both to guard his life with your own. Do you understand?"
    We nodded reluctantly; as we did so, the floor shook with a nearby explosion.
    "Then follow me," he said. "We don't have much time."
     
     
    Back up the stairs we went, and through the echoing corridors of the castle. Bright flashes illuminated the windows; fearsome cries echoed all around. My master ran on his spindly legs, wheezing with each step; Queezle and I loped alongside. At last we came out onto the terrace where for years the Emperor had maintained his aviary. It was a large affair, delicately constructed from ornate bronze, with domes and minarets and feeding ledges, and doors for the Emperor to stroll between. The interior was filled with trees and potted shrubs, and a remarkable variety of parrots, whose ancestors had been brought to Prague from distant lands. The Emperor was besotted with these birds; in recent times, as London's power grew and the Empire slipped from his hands, he had taken to sitting for long periods within the aviary, communing with his friends. Now, with the night sky rent by magical confrontation, the birds were in panic, swirling around the cage in a flurry of feathers, squawking fit to burst. The Emperor, a small plump gentleman in satin breeches and a crumpled white chemise, was little better off, remonstrating with his bird handlers and ignoring the advisors who massed about him.
    The Chief Minister, Meyrink, pale, sad-eyed, was plucking at his sleeve. "Your Highness, please. The British are pouring up Castle Hill. We must get you to safety—"
    "I cannot leave my aviary! Where are my magicians? Summon them here!"
    "Sir, they are engaged in battle—"
    "My afrits, then? My faithful Phoebus..."
    "Sir, as I have already informed you several times—"
    My master shouldered his way through. "Sir: I present Queezle and Bartimaeus, who will assist us in our departure, then save your wondrous birds as well."
    "Two cats, man? Two cats?" The Emperor's mouth went all white and pursed. [9]

    [9] It was rather catlike in itself, if you get my meaning.
     
    Queezle and I rolled our eyes. She became a girl of unusual beauty; I took Ptolemy's form. "Now, Your Highness," my master said, "the eastern steps..."
     
    Great concussions in the city; half the