The Society of Thirteen by Gareth P. Jones Page B

imagination.’
    Hardy was getting nearer.
    â€˜That’s it,’ continued the magpie. ‘Use your other hand to draw the energy around you.’
    â€˜It was up here he tripped me,’ Worms was saying.
    â€˜I think I see someone,’ said Brewer.
    â€˜Clear your mind. Anything within the realms of your imagination is possible,’ said Mondriat.
    Hardy appeared around the side of a tree and stopped in front of Tom.
    Tom stared back at him. He could see the fury in Hardy’s eyes. He wondered why he had decided to listen to the magpie. He should have run. He was about to say something when he realised that Hardy wasn’t looking at him. Even though he was standing inches away from his face, Hardy was staring straight through him. He turned to Worms. ‘Well, he’s not here now.’
    â€˜What’s so special about that book anyway?’ asked Stump.
    â€˜That is a very good question,’ replied Hardy. ‘I think we’d better go and find out, and luckily I know just where to look.’

Chapter 24
Tricked
    Esther remembered how one of the punters on Albert Dock had suggested that Clay had telepathic powers, but she had seen too much trickery and deception on London’s streets not to recognise that he was an expert trickster, even when he was putting his skills to grander use. She did not believe for one moment that Clay possessed actual magical powers, but there was something unnerving about his manner as he sat on Tom’s mattress, his knowing eyes watching her.
    â€˜How do you escape from all them chains then?’ she asked.
    â€˜I go to great lengths to avoid anyone learning how,’ he replied. ‘As we say in our industry, reveal the how and lose the wow.’
    â€˜You mean that if your audience saw all them trick knots and weak chain links they wouldn’t be so keen to throw their hard-earned cash at you?’
    Clay smiled. ‘You’re an intelligent girl. In a few years’ time you come find me and I’ll see if I can’t fix you up as a magician’s assistant.’
    â€˜Is that what you are then? A magician?’ Esther stroked the black cat, curled up on her lap and softly purring.
    â€˜Escapology, mind-reading, spirit-talking, sawing ladies in half,’ said Clay. ‘It’s all trickery, and we tricksters like to call ourselves magicians because, as you rightly point out, it makes it easier to get people to part with their hard-earned money.’
    â€˜It’s not real magic though, is it?’ said Esther.
    Clay’s gaze seemed to intensify as he leant forward to scrutinise Esther. In his hand he shuffled the pack of cards. He opened them into a fan and offered them to her. ‘Take one,’ he said.
    Esther chose her card carefully, ensuring not to pick one from the side he offered her. She looked at the card. It was the queen of spades.
    â€˜Do you think I know your card yet?’ he asked.
    â€˜Not unless it’s a trick pack.’
    He turned the pack over to prove that it was not. He flipped it back over, straightened them and told her to push her card into the pack.
    â€˜What about now?’ he asked. ‘Do you think I snuck a peak then?’
    â€˜I can’t see that you could have,’ said Esther.
    Clay shuffled the cards then handed her the pack. ‘Give it a tap,’ he said
    Esther did so.
    â€˜What are the chances of your card being on top?’ he asked.
    â€˜Given your job I’d say pretty high,’ replied Esther.
    â€˜Have a look.’
    She turned over the top card. It was the king of spades. She smiled. ‘Don’t be too hard on yourself,’ she said. ‘That was pretty close.’
    â€˜Very kind of you,’ said Clay. ‘That was the best I could do, since you have the king’s good lady wife tucked under your leg.’
    Esther smiled and pulled out the card she had hidden away. ‘You saw me do it,’ she