Ptolemy's Gate Read Online Free Page A

Ptolemy's Gate
Book: Ptolemy's Gate Read Online Free
Author: Jonathan Stroud
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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.
    â€œI thought I told you to stop doing that,” he snapped.
    A thin-lipped mouth opened; the jutting chin and nose knocked together indignantly. “Do what?”
    â€œTaking on such a hideous appearance. I’ve just had my breakfast.”
    A section of brow lifted, allowing an eyeball to roll forward with a squelching sound. The face looked unapologetic. “Sorry, mate,” it said. “It’s just my job.”
    â€œYour job is to destroy anyone entering my study without authority. No more, no less.”
    The door guard considered. “True. But I seek to preempt entry by scaring trespassers away. To my way of thinking, deterrence is more aesthetically satisfying than punishment.”
    Mr. Mandrake snorted. “Trespassers apart, you’ll likely frighten Ms. Piper here to death.”
    The face shook from side to side, a process that caused the nose to wobble alarmingly. “Not so. When she comes alone, I moderate my features. I reserve the full horror for those I consider morally vicious.”
    â€œBut you just looked that way to me!”
    â€œThe contradiction being … ?”
    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 room—high, 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. “Right then. To business. Ms. Piper, we will deal with the ordinary reports first. If you would activate the presence indicator.”
    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.
    â€œPurip and Fritang,” Ms. Piper said.
    The magician nodded. “Purip first.” 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.
    â€œRemind me,” Mandrake said.
    Ms. Piper glanced at her notes. “Purip has been observing the response to our war pamphlets and other propaganda,” she said. “Watching the commoners’ mood.”
    â€œVery well. Purip—what have you seen? Speak.”
    The demon bowed slightly “There 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
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