Magician's Fire by Simon Nicholson Page B

flicking a tiny button. A hiss, as white mist leaked out of the pen’s nib. The mist thickened and drifted away.
    Burned into the black circle, the white shape of a bird.
    The boy had gone now. Only the rope remained. But the notes had been made. The man closed the leather book, revealing on its cover another white bird shape. He slid it back into his pocket with the pen.
    One hand waved, dispersing any lingering traces of mist. Another lifted a telephone from the desk and dialed a number.
    The telephone’s earpiece buzzed. A voice in a language that wasn’t English muttered through the crackles.
    â€œIt is possible,” the man said, “that we have discovered a candidate.”

Chapter 14
    Harry toppled onto the roof. He clung to a chimney stack, shaking all over. His body was weak, his heart still pounded, and when he lifted his hands from the chimney’s brickwork, he saw they had left behind the shape of his palms and fingers in sweat. But he had made it back to the hotel, where he was sure the secret behind Herbie’s disappearance would lie. Steadied by the thought, he set off across the roof, weaving past more chimney stacks toward the hatch he had spotted from the other side
    Not even locked. Why would it be when there was no reason to think anyone could get onto a ten-story-high roof? But the door to Room 760 would be locked, that was for sure. Harry pulled the hatch open, slid down the ladder inside, and arrived at the top of a stairwell. Clattering down it, he peered around in his usual way for any stray bits of metal—a nail, a pin, anything at all useful.
    Nothing in the stairwell, but as he reached the seventh floor and slid down a corridor, he saw a row of framed paintings on the wall. He stopped, lifted one down, and plucked the nail out of the plaster. A pick . Hurrying on, he prepared to inspect the lock on Zell’s door and bend the nail into the right shape. But then he reached the corner, peered around it, and saw that he didn’t need a lock pick after all.
    The door to Room 760 was open. Next to it stood a cart of fresh linen, and two maids were hurrying into the room with fresh sheets. Harry tossed the nail away and ducked under a table by the wall. Watching from under the tablecloth, he waited until the maids’ backs were turned. He glided through the door and rolled under the bed…
    â€¦straight into a peacock feather, an umbrella, and a pair of dark-lensed spectacles.
    â€œHarry? I don’t believe it! What are you doing here?”
    â€œI came down from the roof… Ow ! ”
    â€œDidn’t Arthur find you? Didn’t he tell you that we already had a plan?”
    â€œWell, I… mmmp f ! ”
    Billie was squashed under the bed. The springs above were close to her head, her silk dress and bonnet and umbrella were bulky, and her elbow had ended up in Harry’s mouth, making it hard for him to speak. Another hand was right in front of his face, holding up a little slip of paper.
    â€œWell, you better not interfere! This plan’s working just dandy, and I’m not having you wreck it!” She pushed the bit of paper closer. “This is the seventh-floor linen-changing rotation. Artie got it by sweet-talking one of the maids who works here, so we knew I could just slip in here, nice and easy. ’Course, I had to get up here quick, but that was no trouble, ’cause it took no time at all to check in. Whenever they asked me questions, I just answered in Spanish, which is what they speak down Peru way, and Artie gave me a few phrases to remember.”
    The Princess Moldo spectacles, made in Lima itself, tilted on her nose. “So I get my key, I go up to my room, I walk straight on past it, and come up here instead. Pretty impressive, huh? So don’t you try to interfere, you hear me?”
    The elbow left Harry’s mouth. But he wasn’t sure what to say anyway. Point by point, Billie had removed any