The Amulet of Samarkand

The flame instantly died out. The boy's brow furrowed. "Now that wasn't very polite."

Nathaniel closed his eyes and heaved a sigh. "Please."

"Much better." A small spark leaped and ignited a pile of wood nearby. Nathaniel shuffled over and huddled beside it, his hands inches from the flames.

For a few minutes the dji

"How does that feel?" it asked. "Melting nicely, I hope." It waited politely for an answer, but Nathaniel said nothing. "I'll tell you one thing," the dji

"I had to," Nathaniel said shortly. He did not want to talk.

"Mmm. No doubt you had a brilliant plan, which I—and Lovelace, for that matter—completely missed. Mind telling me what it was?"

"Be silent!"

The dji

Nathaniel looked at the dji

"You're alive. Does that count as good?"

For an instant, Nathaniel saw Mrs. Underwood's face watching him from the fire. He rubbed his eyes.

"I hate to say this," the dji

"What?"

"Well, Lovelace knows you've escaped. He'll be looking out for you—and you've seen what he'll do to keep you quiet. Your only hope is to vanish from the scene and leave London for good. Abroad will be safest. Prague."

"Why should I go to Prague?"

"Magicians there might help you. Nice beer, too, I'm told."

Nathaniel's lip curled. "I'm no traitor."

The boy shrugged. "If that's no good, then you're left with getting a quiet new life here. There are plenty of possibilities. Let's see… looking at you, I'd say heavy lifting's out—you're too spindly. That rules out being a laborer."

Nathaniel frowned with indignation. "I have no intention—"

The dji

"Wait! I'm not—"

"Or you could become apprentice to a sewer rat. You get a bristle brush, a hook and a rubber plunger, then wriggle up the tightest tu

"I won't—"

"There's a world of opportunities out there! And all of them better than being a dead magician."

"Shut up!" The effort of raising his voice made Nathaniel feel his head was about to split in two. "I don't need your suggestions!" He stumbled to his feet, eyes blazing with anger. The dji

But Lovelace had made an error of his own. He had underestimated his enemy. He had called Nathaniel weak, then tried to kill him. And Nathaniel had survived.

"You want me to slink away?" he cried. "I ca

"Underwood? You must be joking! He loathed you! He was a man of sense!"

"His wife, I mean. I want justice for her. Vengeance for what he has done."

The effect of these ringing words was slightly spoiled by the dji

"No. I want justice."

The dji

"Never."

"It's not even as if you're really a magician any more." It gestured at the crumbling walls. "Look around you. Where are we? This isn't some cushy townhouse, filled with books and papers. Where are the candles? Where's all the incense? Where's the comfort? Like it or not, Nathaniel, you've lost everything a magician needs. Wealth, security, self—respect, a master… Let's face it, you've got nothing."

"I have my scrying glass," Nathaniel said. "And I have you." Hurriedly, he sat himself back beside the fire. The cold of the room still pierced him through.

"Ah yes, I was coming to that." The dji

Nathaniel stared at him.

"I've completed my charge," the boy continued. "And more, much more. I spied on Lovelace for you. I found out about the Amulet. I saved your life."

Nathaniel's head felt oddly light and woozy, as if it were stuffed with cloth.

"Please! Don't rush to thank me!" the boy went on. "I'll only get embarrassed. All I want is to see you drawing that pentacle. That's all I need."

"No," Nathaniel said. "Not yet."

"Sorry?" the boy replied. "My hearing must be going, on account of that dramatic rescue I pulled off last night. I thought you just said no."

"I did. I'm not setting you free. Not yet."

A heavy silence fell. As Nathaniel watched, his little fire began to dwindle, as if it were being sucked down through the floor. It vanished altogether. With little cracking noises, ice began to crust onto the scraps of wood that a moment before had been burning nicely. Cold blistered his skin. His breath became harsh and painful.

He staggered upright. "Stop that!" he gasped. "Bring back the fire."

The dji

Flickering images rose before Nathaniel's eyes: flames erupting from the ruined kitchen. "I didn't start the fire," he whispered. "It wasn't my fault."

"No? You hid the Amulet. You framed Underwood."

"No! I didn't intend Lovelace to come. It was for security—"

The boy sneered. "Sure it was—your security."

"If Underwood had been any good he'd have survived! He'd have fought Love—lace off—raised the alarm!"