brows appeared to be melting down across the eyes; the chin and nose jutted out like nutcracker handles. The magician halted and gazed at the face with deep disapproval.
âI thought I told you to stop doing that,â he snapped.
A thin-lipped mouth opened; the jutting chin and nose knocked together indignantly. âDo what?â
âTaking on such a hideous appearance. Iâve just had my breakfast.â
A section of brow lifted, allowing an eyeball to roll forward with a squelching sound. The face looked unapologetic. âSorry, mate,â it said. âItâs just my job.â
âYour job is to destroy anyone entering my study without authority. No more, no less.â
The door guard considered. âTrue. But I seek to preempt entry by scaring trespassers away. To my way of thinking, deterrence is more aesthetically satisfying than punishment.â
Mr. Mandrake snorted. âTrespassers apart, youâll likely frighten Ms. Piper here to death.â
The face shook from side to side, a process that caused the nose to wobble alarmingly. âNot so. When she comes alone, I moderate my features. I reserve the full horror for those I consider morally vicious.â
âBut you just looked that way to me!â
âThe contradiction being ⦠?â
Mandrake took a deep breath, passed a hand across his eyes and gestured. The face retreated into the metal to become the faintest of outlines; the door swung open. The great magician drew himself up and, ushering Ms. Piper along before him, walked into his study.
It was a functional roomâhigh, airy and white-painted, lit by two windows looking out upon the square. It had no excess decoration. On this particular morning thick clouds covered the sun, so Mandrake switched on the ceiling lights as he entered. Bookcases ran along the entirety of one wall, while the opposite side was bare except for a giant pin board, covered in notes and diagrams. The wooden floor was smooth and dark. Five circles were inscribed upon it, each with its own pentacle, runes, candles, and incense pots. Four of these were of a conventional size, but the fifth, nearest the window, was significantly larger: it contained within it a full-size desk, filing cabinet, and several chairs. This master-circle was joined to the smaller ones by a series of precisely drawn lines and rune-chains. Mandrake and Ms. Piper crossed into the largest circle and sat behind the desk, spreading out their papers before them.
Mandrake cleared his throat. âRight then. To business. Ms. Piper, we will deal with the ordinary reports first. If you would activate the presence indicator.â
Ms. Piper spoke a brief incantation. Instantly the candles around the perimeters of two of the smaller circles flickered into life; wisps of smoke rose to the ceiling. In the pots beside them, flakes of incense stirred and shifted. The other two circles remained quiet.
âPurip and Fritang,â Ms. Piper said.
The magician nodded. âPurip first.â He uttered a loud command. The candles in the leftmost pentacle flared; with a queasy shimmering, a form appeared in the center of the circle. It was shaped like a man and respectfully dressed in a sober suit and dark blue tie. It nodded briefly in the direction of the desk and waited.
âRemind me,â Mandrake said.
Ms. Piper glanced at her notes. âPurip has been observing the response to our war pamphlets and other propaganda,â she said. âWatching the commonersâ mood.â
âVery well. Puripâwhat have you seen? Speak.â
The demon bowed slightly âThere is not much new to report. The people are like a herd of Ganges meadow cattle, half-starved but complacent, unused to change or independent thought. Yet the war presses on their minds, and I believe discontent is spreading. They read your pamphlets, just as they buy your newspapers, but they do so without pleasure. It does not satisfy