Free Bartimaeus: The Golem’s Eye by Jonathan Stroud

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 could scarcely catch the words. “There’s no point. We can’t—” He had loosened his grip on her now; his hands hung hapless at his side.
    A tap-tap-tapping of claws on metal. “Face me, child.”
    For a moment, Kitty considered letting Jakob go and running, herself alone, down off the bridge and away into the park. Then she despised the thought, and herself for thinking it, and turned deliberately to face the thing.
    “That’s better. Direct frontal contact is preferable for the Tumbler.” The monkey face did not seem particularly full of malice; if anything, its expression was slightly bored.
    Mastering her fear, Kitty held up a small, pleading hand. “Please … don’t hurt us!”
    The yellow eyes widened, the black lips made a rueful pout. “I am afraid that is impossible. I have been given my orders—namely to effect the Black Tumbler upon your persons—and I cannot reject this charge without great danger to myself. Would you have me become subject to the Shriveling Fire?”
    “In all honesty, I would prefer that.”
    The demon’s tail twitched back and forth like that of an irritated cat; it bent a leg and scratched the back of the opposite knee with an articulated claw. “No doubt. Well, the situation is unpleasant. I suggest we get it over with as rapidly as possible.”
    It raised one hand.
    Kitty put her arm around Jakob’s waist. Through flesh and fabric, she felt the jerking of his heart.
    A circle of billowing gray smoke expanded from a point just in front of the demon’s outstretched fingers and shot toward them. Kitty heard Jakob scream. She had just enough time to see red and orange flames flickering in the heart of the smoke before it hit her in the face with a burst of heat, and everything went dark.

6
    “K itty … Kitty!”
    “Mmm?”
    “Wake up. It’s