"Jonathan Stroud - Bartimaeus 2 - The Golem's Eye" - читать интересную книгу автора (Stroud Jonathan)

We nodded reluctantly; as we did so, the floor shook with a nearby explosion.

"Then follow me," he said. "We don't have much time."



Back up the stairs we went, and through the echoing corridors of the castle. Bright flashes
illuminated the windows; fearsome cries echoed all around. My master ran on his spindly legs,
wheezing with each step; Queezle and I loped alongside. At last we came out onto the terrace where
for years the Emperor had maintained his aviary. It was a large affair, delicately constructed from
ornate bronze, with domes and minarets and feeding ledges, and doors for the Emperor to stroll
between. The interior was filled with trees and potted shrubs, and a remarkable variety of parrots,
whose ancestors had been brought to Prague from distant lands. The Emperor was besotted with
these birds; in recent times, as London's power grew and the Empire slipped from his hands, he had
taken to sitting for long periods within the aviary, communing with his friends. Now, with the night sky
rent by magical confrontation, the birds were in panic, swirling around the cage in a flurry of feathers,
squawking fit to burst. The Emperor, a small plump gentleman in satin breeches and a crumpled white
chemise, was little better off, remonstrating with his bird handlers and ignoring the advisors who
massed about him.

The Chief Minister, Meyrink, pale, sad-eyed, was plucking at his sleeve. "Your Highness,
please. The British are pouring up Castle Hill. We must get you to safetyтАФ"

"I cannot leave my aviary! Where are my magicians? Summon them here!"

"Sir, they are engaged in battleтАФ"

"My afrits, then? My faithful Phoebus..."

"Sir, as I have already informed you several timesтАФ"

My master shouldered his way through. "Sir: I present Queezle and Bartimaeus, who will assist
us in our departure, then save your wondrous birds as well."

"Two cats, man? Two cats?" The Emperor's mouth went all white and pursed. [9]

[9] It was rather catlike in itself, if you get my meaning.
 Queezle and I rolled our eyes. She became a girl of unusual beauty; I took Ptolemy's form.
"Now, Your Highness," my master said, "the eastern steps..."

Great concussions in the city; half the suburbs were now alight. A small imp came bowling over
the parapet at the end of the terrace, its tail aflame. It skidded to a halt beside us. "Permission to
report, sir. A number of savage afrits are fighting their way up to the castle. The charge is led by
Honorius and Patterknife, Gladstone's personal servants. They are very terrible, sir. Our troops have
broken before them." It paused, looked at its smoldering tail. "Permission to find water, sir?"

"And the golems?" Meyrink demanded.

The imp shuddered. "Yessir. They have just engaged with the enemy. I kept well away from the
cloud, of course, but I believe the British afrits have fallen back a little, in disarray. Now, about the