apropergoad | excerpts;

From The Amulet of Samarkand:

"Well, John Mandrake," Simon Lovelace said, "I am almost very impressed. Yes, I have been inconvenienced; the last few days have been difficult for me. But see—I have my prize again, and all will now be well. Please do not apologize. To summon a djinni such as Bartimaeus at your age is no mean achievement; to control him over several days is even more surprising. You left me frustrated, too, which is a rare event, and Underwood ignorant, which is somewhat less unusual. All very clever. Only at the end have you fallen down. What possessed you to own up to your action? I might have dealt quietly with Underwood and left you alone." His voice was soft and reasonable.

Underwood urgently tried to speak, but Lovelace interrupted him. "Quiet, man. I want to hear the boy's reasons."

"Because it wasn't his fault," Nathaniel said, stolidly. "He knew nothing. Your quarrel was with me, whether you knew so or not. He should be left out of it. That's why I came down." A sense of the utter futility of his action weighed down upon him.

Lovelace chuckled. "Some childish concept of nobility, is it?" he said. "I guessed as much. The honorable course of action. Heroic, but stupid. Where did you get that notion from? Not from Underwood here, I'll bet."

"I robbed you because you wronged me," Nathaniel continued. "I wanted to get back at you. That's all there is to it. Punish me if you want. I don't care." His attitude of surly resignation concealed a growing hope. Maybe Lovelace did not realize that they knew about the Amulet; maybe he would administer some token punishment and go.

Underwood was evidently hoping the same thing. He grasped Lovelace eagerly by the arm.

"As you have seen, Simon, I am entirely innocent in this affair. It was this wicked, scheming boy. You must deal with him as you wish. Whatever sentence fits the crime, you may administer it. I leave it entirely up to you."

Gently, Lovelace disengaged himself. "Thank you, Underwood. I shall administer his punishment shortly."

"Good."

"After disposing of you."

"What—?" For a second, Underwood froze, then with a turn of speed unexpected in a man of his age, he ran for the open door. Just as he passed Nathaniel, a gust of wind from nowhere slammed the door tight shut. Underwood rattled the handle and pulled with all his strength, but it remained fast. With a snarl of fear, he spun round. He and Nathaniel stood facing Simon Lovelace across the room. Nathaniel's legs shook. He looked round wildly for Bartimaeus, but the spider was nowhere to be seen.

With fastidious care, Lovelace took the Amulet of Samarkand by its chain and hung it round his neck. "I am not stupid, John," he said. "It is possible that you do not know what this object is, but frankly I cannot take that chance. And certainly, poor Arthur knows."

At this, Underwood stretched out a clawing hand and grasped Nathaniel around the neck. His voice was cracked with panic. "Yes, but I will say nothing! You can trust me, Lovelace! You may keep the Amulet for all eternity for all I care! But the boy is a meddling fool; he must be silenced before he blabs. Kill him now, and the matter will be finished!"

A smirk extended across Lovelace's face. "Such loyalty from a master to his apprentice! Very touching. You see, John, Underwood and I are giving you a final lesson in the art of being a magician, and perhaps with our help you will understand your error in owning up to me today. You believed in the notion of the honorable magician, who takes responsibility for his actions. Mere propaganda. Such a thing does not exist. There is no honor, no nobility, no justice. Every magician acts only for himself, seizing each opportunity he can. When he is weak, he avoids danger—which is why second-raters plod away within the system. Arthur knows all about that, don't you, Underwood? But when he is strong, he strikes. How do you think Rupert Devereaux himself came to power? His master killed the previous Prime Minister in a coup twenty years ago and he inherited the title. That is the truth of it. That is how things are always done. When I use the Amulet next week, I will be following in a grand tradition reaching back to Gladstone." The glasses flashed, a hand was raised, ready to begin a gesture. "It may console you to know that even before you arrived, I was resolved to kill you and everyone in this house. I cannot leave anything to chance. So your stupidity in coming here has actually changed nothing."