This takes place right at the ending of Ptolemy's Gate, where Nathaniel is dismissing Bart. Or, at least, he tries to…
Nathaniel was tired. There was a fatal wound inflicted upon him, and his mind was getting foggier and foggier. He could barely concentrate on the lurking demon before him. The chattering spirit in his head wasn't doing any good, either.
That would be little me.
I floundered around in his body, impatiently waiting for him to complete the dismissal words. He muttered them, and then trailed off. Silence.
For a moment I waited, expecting to float right out of his head any moment and disappear gleefully back to the Other Place. But then I realized that he hadn't completed the Dismissal at all. I waited for another moment, wondering if this was another one of Nathaniel's not-so-funny jokes ((last year I'd been expecting at least a week off to the Other Place. Instead, he had tossed me a bucket of glue for Christmas and then sent me out with a bunch of posters to sing carols as I pasted them against the walls. I purposefully glued the posters upside down)).
I coughed pointedly. Ahem…is there something wrong?
I felt him give a start. Yes, right… He began. And zoned out once again.
Nouda began slowly lumbering toward us. Nathaniel, in a sort of stupor, raised the Staff, pointed it at the demon, and burst out into an incantation.
Um…I guess my dismissal is put on hold? Fine. I'll wait. Take your time, bud, take your time.
Bartimaeus. Please.
Yes?
Shut. Up.
He was demonstrating a rather impressive display of double tasking, reprimanding me within his mind while spouting magical gibberish.
And so, stuck on this grubby Earth as I was, I watched through Nathaniel's eyes as the Staff flared brightly. Nouda stopped, paused, his eyes squinting on Makepeace's flabby face. Then those eyes widened in terror, just as the Staff broke.
Blinding white light exploded from the two halves of splintered wood—Nathaniel, and I in his body, was tossed backward against a wall. His head cracked against the hard surface, ringing out through the chaos.
It was chaos, indeed.
Glass was falling everywhere, like snow, except it pricked at his—our—skin. Nouda was nowhere to be seen. He was dead, most likely.
And, as I saw the collapsing framework, the toppling dome above our heads—so were we, if we didn't make it out of here. Soon.
Nathaniel.
There was no answer.
You awake?
It was bone-chillingly quiet in his head.
I grudgingly took the responsibility into my—his—hands. ((Damn, this was getting confusing. Let's just say it's my body for now, shall we? Our little secret.))
An iron bar whistled through the air, uncomfortably close to my head. I skidded to the side, leaped over the broken Staff, and dashed for the entrance. Pieces of tile and glass came cascading down—I waved my hand and shot them away with a gust of air.
We were almost to the door when the walls shuddered, swayed, and collapsed. For a few precious seconds I stood there in disappointed surprise ((Now not only did I have to prevent our deaths, I had to fight my way through several tons of rubble as well. The joys of being a djinni.)), and then I quickly hunched down and threw up a bubble-like Shield.
Ton upon ton of building material and slivers of glass pressed down on the protective dome. But it held, and that's what matters.
Now, on to busting my way out of here. My powers, though still quite awesome and…well, powerful, were somewhat depleted through my continuous service to Nathaniel. I'd have to find an easy way out.
I took the time to check back up on my master. He was quite obviously still alive—I could sense the lungs rasping in air, the heart still thumping, the brain, though sludge-like, directing the body and taking in orders. He was still hopping. But for how long? I had to get him to Kitty.
Natty-boy. We're stuck. Have any brilliant ideas? Because now would really be a great time.
Again, that depressing quiet.
So, with many a heartfelt sigh, I knelt down, the Shield wavering a few feet above me. The rubble blocked out most of the light, so it was black as pitch. I conjured up a small flame and left it crackling on my palm as I surveyed my minimal surroundings.
It was simple.
We were in a bubble, and trapped on all sides by a mound of rubble. ((I seriously didn't mean for that to rhyme. It just…happens. Call me brilliant, I won't mind.))
Now I just had to work out a plan.
If I were myself, I'd just turn into an ant and scuttle merrily on my way to freedom. However, this was not so—I was stuck in Nathaniel's lousy body. What to do in a situation such as this?
Simple. You sit on the ground, cross your legs, and wait impatiently for help to arrive.
And I did so.
