The Glass God Read Online Free PDF Page B

watchman of the slumbering dark, then of course it’s your decision and I fully understand how, in this difficult day and age, you’d want to abide by that. Obviously a shaman’s unique skills could be of great service in this hour of need, but I’m sure, despite the circumstance, we’ll find our way and, hopefully, we can do so without any unnecessary loss of life, don’t you agree, Miles?”
    “We can but try our best.”
    “So, Ms Li.” Kelly stood up briskly, the chair coasting out on its wheels behind her. “I hope you have a marvellous day and, please, do keep the doughnuts, and the umbrella, and we’ll…⁠”
    “Wait,” groaned Sharon. Kelly waited, eyebrows raised. Sharon looked from Alderman to Alderman, then gave another, louder groan and let her head bang once more against the top of her desk. Soon there would be a groove in the paperwork where her forehead had carved out a path. “Fine,” she grumbled, looking back up, chin first. “And don’t think I’m doing this just because of your manipulation, because I’m not and because I don’t believe in falling for cheap tricks. I’m just… taking an interest because of my civic spirit, and…⁠” She snatched up the doughnuts. “I’m keeping these. Rhys!”
    Rhys stuck his head out from behind the computer with the innocence of a man who has absolutely not been eavesdropping. “Yes, Ms Li?”
    “Get your coat!”
     
    The day outside was cold and bright, dazzling through the falling leaves, with the Aldermen incongruously dark beneath a baby-blue sky. Sharon juggled the blue umbrella and the bag containing sandwiches and doughnuts, and Kelly, indicating the noise of traffic from Theobalds Road, said, “I hope no one minds if we get a bus?”
    “A bus?” echoed Sharon, scampering after the two Aldermen. They were heading south, past tall terraced houses of coal-grey brick with bone-white window frames. “What happened to swanning around in chauffeur-driven cars?”
    “Financial consequences,” sighed Kelly. “When Mr Swift and yourself did that marvellous job removing the wendigo from Burns and Stoke, and freeing the imprisoned spirits of the city from their lair, of course it was fabulous for the welfare of London as a whole. It was, however, a teensy bit detrimental to the fiscal stability of the brokerages market, and Harlun and Phelps suffered some not inconsiderable financial losses as a result. Alas, as Harlun and Phelps is the prime employer and supplier for the Aldermen, this means we’ve had to make a few cutbacks in one or two administrative areas. Do you have your own travel cards?”
    Sharon looked at Rhys. “I cycle to work,” he offered.
    “That’s excellent, absolutely what people should do! Well, if you have to take public transport in the course of this investigation, please do keep the receipt.”
    “Is this an investigation?” queried the druid. “Only I’ve got the boiler man coming round tomorrow at eight, see, and it’s been very hard to arrange…⁠” Sharon glared at Rhys, who dissolved into “⁠… but I suppose that’s not very important in the scheme of things, is it?”
    They walked on past expensive cars parked outside expensive houses. Commemorative plaques occurred in this part of town with mocking regularity, assuring passers-by that, while their own lives up to this point may have been futile, great works had nevertheless distinguished these streets, even in an age when most people were lucky to have butter with their bread. Sharon was uncharacteristically silent, and, Rhys thought, slightly thin around the edges, her brisk walk taking her close to where shamans began to disappear from sight: that precise speed where the brain seemed to say, ‘oh look, a native’ before disregarding anything further including, for example, whether that native was solid all the way through.
    They turned onto Theobalds Road, a busy place of sandwich bars, expensive hairdressers and lawyers. The bus, to