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The interruption gave George a chance. With a shout, he charged at Professor Glauber. If Aubrey had been able, he would have gaped, for George was wielding a wooden hatstand as a medieval knight would wield a lance. With a grunt, he smashed into the half-professor. Aubrey was thrown backward and, suddenly boneless, he slumped to the floor, striking his head hard enough that blackness threatened to swamp him.

No, he thought, and struggled with consciousness. Dizzy and feeling sick to his stomach, he sat up to see the aftermath of the affray.

All the customers had fled, as had the waiters. Von Stralick was standing with his back to the door, which was now closed. He had his wallet in his hand and he was counting bank notes.

Kiefer held a hand on his head, and was groaning.

Caroline was standing between Professor Glauber and Aubrey, twitching her attention to either side, as if daring either of them to do anything foolish.

George had thrown away the hatstand. ‘Old man?’

‘All present and accounted for,’ Aubrey muttered. The room swam before his eyes, but he decided that was preferable to blackness.

The telephone had been ripped from the wall, but the earpiece was still attached. And half of Professor Glauber had disappeared into it. The telephone had swallowed his entire arm and part of his chest.

He was lying, eyes open, staring unseeing at the ceiling. His neck was twisted in a way that made Aubrey feel even sicker. ‘He’s not breathing.’

‘I say,’ George said. He nudged the professor with his foot. ‘Look.’

The professor’s coat had been torn away by George’s hatstand attack. Underneath lay the real shock.

Professor Glauber was made of clay. His torso was dull brown, roughly formed, and Aubrey was both fascinated and repelled to see that copper wire peeped through.

George crouched and reached out a hand to the creature’s face.

‘Don’t,’ Caroline said.

‘I think we have to.’ George unbuttoned the collar, took a fold of skin, just underneath the creature’s neck, and tugged.

It came away with the sound of old paper, dry and rustling, exposing more copper wire overlaid with clay. Wincing, Aubrey crept closer and examined the extraordinary creature.

He touched its cheek. It was remarkable. Extremely lifelike, it was starting to craze and harden – but Aubrey could see minute pores and blemishes in its surface. All its facial features were natural, down to small, ruddy veins on either side of the prominent nose. It was a work of art. Anything that was showing looked perfectly human. Anything that was hidden by clothing was rougher – clay over an armature of copper wire. Aubrey saw this as a blending of the magical animation of golem clay with the connective and conducting power of copper wire.

‘Kiefer,’ he said. ‘How much does this look like Professor Glauber?’

Kiefer had been staring, wide-eyed. ‘Look like? Are you saying this isn’t him?’

‘Not unless Professor Glauber was a golem.’

‘A golem?’ Caroline stared. ‘Is that what a golem looks like?’

‘Not usually. This is a kind I’ve never seen before.’

George helped Aubrey to his feet. A glass of water was pushed into his hand and he had a sense of déjà vu when he saw that it was Kiefer who had fetched it.

Aubrey nodded. A presence had lurked at the other end of the telephone and that presence was unmistakeable. ‘Dr Tremaine.’

‘Are you sure?’ von Stralick said.

‘He’s the only one who could do this sort of thing.’ And I felt him there, at the end of the line.

Kiefer nodded. ‘Do you have any hesitation about our course of action now?’

Aubrey felt at a juncture. With the world in such a precarious position, the actions of one powerful man could tip the balance. In Dr Tremaine’s case, this was in the direction of war.

Kiefer wanted revenge, but could assisting Kiefer help stop the war?

The argument smacked of ends justifying means, an argument that Aubrey was automatically suspicious of, but in this case there was much to recommend such a course of action.

Not the least was helping Caroline achieve her goal.

For such a rational person, Caroline was singleminded about Dr Tremaine. Could Aubrey rise in Caroline’s estimation by doing something about her obsession?

It’s a pragmatic decision, he thought, but deep down, he was uneasy. He quashed the disquiet, nodding. ‘All right, Kiefer. I’ll help.’

Seven

The next morning at Maidstone was Aubrey's alone. After the incident at the Istros Coffee House the day before, von Stralick had claimed he had business to attend to. Caroline had gone home after making Aubrey vow that he would pursue this course of action. The proprietor of the café had glowered at them, only partly mollified by the cash von Stralick had tendered as they left. The arrival of black-uniformed Magisterium operatives had taken the sheen off the payment.

Aubrey had hesitated before contacting the Magisterium, but finally decided it was necessary. What were they going to do with a magical copper construct otherwise?

Rising early, George had accepted a lift from Sir Darius into the city. He had an errand to run for his father, investigating some new sort of agricultural machinery. He was excited about it, and Aubrey was pleased. Someone had to be excited about agricultural machinery.

This gave him some time, a valuable commodity in the world of Aubrey Fitzwilliam. He spent some of it working through his notes on the ancient tablet and script found in their underground adventures a few months ago, the tablet which had hinted that it was a cousin to the famous Rashid Stone.

The knottiness of trying to translate the mysterious ancient script absorbed him utterly. The world went away, time became irrelevant as he grappled with the arcane language, sifting for meaning, consulting old books of similar inscriptions. He’d had an inkling for some time, but as he worked he became more and more certain that tablet dealt with fundamentals of magic.

He wished that Professor Mansfield, his lecturer in Ancient Languages, would return from her sojourn in Aigyptos, but since he and his mother had played a considerable part in her secret mission to return the Rashid Stone to the Sultan of Memphis, the stone’s rightful owner, he couldn’t feel too affronted at her absence. He’d been corresponding with her, but the delay in the post made any serious discussion difficult.

Until she returned, he was on his own. So he surrounded himself with the best reference books and applied himself to the ongoing task of trying to decipher the mysterious script he’d found.

Research was, as usual, a seductive trap. He found himself following pathways and suggestions quite aside from his quest for decipherment. A hint about burial practices sent him reaching for a text on Etruscan rituals and he spent a good hour fascinated by these pre-Roman people.

Eventually, poring over details of urns and interment became mind-numbing. He stretched and decided he needed a break from the intensity of his research. He pushed back from the table then went to the safe which he’d had installed near one of his desks. It had been an item of some curiosity when he requested it, but he reassured his parents that it was necessary – and that he would share the combination with them.

At the back of the safe, past the collection of gold sovereigns and the gold tie pin given to him by his mother, he found the black velvet bag he’d been looking for. He straightened, shut the safe and tipped the contents of the bag into his palm.

The baroque beauty of the Tremaine pearl glowed softly and Aubrey remembered wresting it from the top of Dr Tremaine’s cane. The ex-Sorcerer Royal had been furious, for the pearl had been given to him by his sister, and was his most precious keepsake.