Bad News
By theanonymouslibrarians
Note: I do not own the Bartimaeus Sequence or any of its characters.
I wished I had the courage to break the silence, but Faquarl's face was impassive, and that made me nervous. Usually I could tell his mood by the slightest twitch, but not now. Although I supposed I wasn't surprised. He and Jabor...well, I wouldn't call them close. But they had always had a friendly relationship with one another that was rare for spirits to indulge in. It was odd, considering Faquarl was one of the cleverer djinn you'd meet and Jabor had had the intelligence of a gnat. But I suppose they'd bonded over their shared love of violence. News of Jabor's death would shock Faquarl. Especially considering how powerful the other djinni. had been. And then Faquarl asked the question that I'd really hoped he wouldn't ask.
"How?"
I couldn't lie to him. Well, I could but it wouldn't be a good idea. He'd have known. Somehow, Faquarl would have known. And I didn't want to. 1
(1 Faquarl and I had developed a...well, a camaraderie, I suppose. In a rather loose sense of the word. It wasn't without its arguments, but it was nice. I hadn't had anything like it since Affa, Teti, and Penrenutet had died. And if I lied to Faquarl now...well, that would all be over.)
"Ramuthra. When Lovelace summoned him, a rift was opened."
"And where," Faquarl asked softly, studying me intently, "were you?"
I had the feeling that, had a cleaver been within easy reach, Faquarl would have been tossing it in the air at the moment. I wanted to look away, to not have to meet his gaze, but didn't. I didn't feel guilty about Jabor's death. It was a sad fact that djinn had to kill one another to survive. Our masters pitted us against their enemies and their enemies' djinn would need to fight for their own masters. It was seldom personal; we needed to survive. Faquarl knew that. Perhaps it was why we'd always striven to avoid feeling anything for the other that remotely resembled affection. But still...
"Lovelace had ordered Jabor to kill me. I was trying to stay out of his reach and out of the pull of the rift." It wasn't the whole story, and maybe Faquarl guessed this, because something flared in his eyes that made me take a step back. I braced myself. For what, I wasn't sure. He raised a hand slightly, and I could see a flame begin to form. And then...he sighed and let his hand drop. "I'm sor-"
"No, you're not!" He hissed.
Well, it was true. I hadn't take any inordinate amount of pleasure from tricking Jabor, but I certainly hadn't mourned him. The thing about Jabor was that his power and violence were only half the danger. His...mindlessness meant that ally or enemy, you were never quite safe from him. I felt considerably less anxiety about having contributed to his death than I might have felt had Faquarl been in his place. But it didn't feel right to acknowledge that. "I'm sorry for you." I offered.
"Why?" Faquarl gave a bitter laugh. "I'm still alive."
"You and Jabor were-"
"We got on. More than most, I'll admit. But he's not the first...acquaintance...I've lost and he won't be the last."
"Faquarl-"
"Don't. Just...just don't."
I hesitated. Then, I crossed to one of Faquarl's couches, dropping onto it in a lazy sprawl. "Well...I'm still alive, too. You and me both. That's something isn't it?"
I half expected him to make some sarcastic remark or send a detonation my way. But he just looked at me for a moment, an odd expression on his face. Finally, Faquarl sighed and came to sit next to me. "Yes. I suppose it is."