BARTIMEAUS

I materialized in the form of a blazing pillar of fire lightning bolts bounced off the walls, pillars of brimstone burst into life round my feet, an unearthly howl filled the room, making the crystal chandelier shake ominously, the screams of many filled the room and were mixed with the howls of wolves, a blood red light filled the room. Then I saw who it was and gave up all pretence of formality.

"Oh its you" I said with a tone of disgust in my face I dwindled down to assume Ptolemy's form " So what's the charge then" I said in a resigned tone " oh no, actually let me guess, more fun eh! Hmm hard one this, traitor in parliament who is trying to seize power using some being from the other place or, failing that a huge stone behemoth who brings a shroud of darkness in his wake and can negate the magic of creatures of air and fire like me." I took a deep breath. 1

Nathaniel, yep it was he, little twerp, shuffled sheepishly inside his pentacle.

"No Bartimaeus, nothing like that this time."

"I was right about the traitor though?"

"No,"

"Dam." It seemed I was losing my touch.

"The thing is Bartimaeus," my master broke off and shuffled inside his pentacle. I waited patiently for a few seconds then got bored.

"Get on with it."

"The thing is…my chauffeur has got chickenpox."

"Yes?"

"And I need to go to ambassador Styxe's drinks party."

"Bad luck then." I could tell what he wanted, but there was no way he was getting it from me.

" I need you to be my chauffeur." There it was then.

"No way," I said "espionage, daring fighting, hanging from a beam being slowly lowered into boiling lava,2I can handle all these but…chauffeuring! I draw the line at that" I finished and crossed my hands over my chest, this was all macho talk; we both knew I could not resist if he commanded me. I just had to hope he would give up, but no such luck .My master chewed his lip said

"I can't miss this party, its vital to my career." he then took up a more decisive posture "Bartimaeus I command you to assume the guise of a chauffeur until I command you to do otherwise or you see something that could kill me or in any way endanger me. You are also charged to protect me in anyway you can"

"Okay" I muttered as I left the room, resplendent in my chauffeur uniform. "But I warn you I'm no great driver."

1 Though technically spirits do not breathe I thought I would add it for theatrical effect, call it artistic license. Also I could put the kid out of his stride by carrying on breathing in till I had tripled my size.

2 Happy days.

NATHANIEL

Twenty-five minute later a sleek black limo skidded round the corner of the Rt. Hon Ambassador Styxe's drive it skidded trough an bush round a wall and into a obelisk over two metres high. There was silence with only the hiss of the tyres slowly deflating. A tall prepossessing chauffeur stepped out, his dominating attitude slightly affected by his cap being jammed well over his eyebrows. A tall young man stepped out of the car and after looking around to see if there were any onlookers and whipped round to his servant.

"Do you have any Idea how much that obelisk was worth?" he whispered in a furious voice.

"No" The man said nonchalantly. Had you been watching you might have wondered how a manservant could cheek his master so easily yet still retain his job. You might have also wondered how the hell he had managed ton get the job in the first place as he was obviously the worst driver it was possible to be.

"That was an ancient monolith imported from 3rd dynasty Egypt and cost over seventy thousand pounds"

"Uh-huh" The man suddenly seemed to realise he was in serious trouble

"No one will know its you," he said dismissively, though with a slight hint of angst in his voice.

"My car is currently embedded in the obelisk," the young man answered, his voice hushed.

"Oh no its not" the manservant answered in an equally quiet voice, a slight smile on his face, the young man turned to see a jet of emerald fire spurt from the manservant's hand. It hit the limo, which melted in seconds. The mans mouth opened and shut several times. His face bulged, went a peculiar beetroot colour and his eyes made a kind of popping motion. His hands made an odd sort of strangling motion.

After a few minutes he seemed to calm down, though underneath there seemed to be something in those eyes.

"Bartimaeus" he criedin a harsh voice. "Come". The manservant picked himself up of a rock and walked towards him "All right Natty boy, all right" he said in an aggrieved voice. They walked slowly up towards the house languorous music playing faintly. They arrived with the party in full swing. Such as it was. The sight of large stone hall greeted them; torches flared on the walls casting long wavy shadows across the hall Nathaniel stopped and asked were he could find the bathroom. He started across the hall and looked back at Bartimaeus with laugh as he started to follow.

"No thank you Bartimaeus I am sure I can find my way to the bathroom quite well myself thank you very much." Bartimaeus shrugged and walked off. He wandered through the crowd, mingling with the magicians as he walked. There was a whole hotchpotch of magicians of all sizes, shapes and skills. The old walked with the young, the men walked with the women, and all of them were alternately drinking eating and talking, or in some cases, simultaneously. Nathaniel walked among the crowds, walking towards an outside door. He didn't want Bartimaeus mucking up this meeting. The djinni had an effortless ability to be cheeky at the worst moments possible. He saw the person he was looking for gliding through the crowd. He ducked behind a column and straightened his tie, took a deep breath and walked towards them with a wide smile on his face.

"Mr Mandrake!" Jane Farrar, a spurious smile on her face. "How lovely to see you!"

"Call me John." Nathaniel said, a small smile on his face. " Has anything turned up in the Duval investigation?" He said, an anxious look on his face as he recalled the conspirator, who had nearly cost him his life last year. "Has he revealed anything else?"

"No" Farrar said, "just keeps insisting he was set up by this Hopkins person." Nathaniel remembered, Hopkins was elusive, a member of the rebel "Résistance". He had betrayed them; they were all dead, killed by the afrit they had unknowingly set free when they robbed the tomb of Gladstone. Nathaniel had had his part in one of their deaths, Kitty had died at the hands of the golem set lose by Duval, she had died saving Nathaniel. Nathaniel reflected on her, she had hated him, she was his enemy, but at the last moment she had saved him when she could have saved herself. He was shaken out of his troubling thoughts by the arrival of a small bespectacled man with an ornate waistcoat and an animated on his face.

"Ah Nathaniel how are you I think well eh! Information Minister already eh! Next thing you know my niece will be Prime Minister! Oh I'm sorry no offence meant let me tell you something" the tall energetic man, Ambassador Styxe, tugged at his arm and began to lead him further away. Nathaniel raised his arms in mock despair to Farrar who gave a small smile and then walked away. Styxe dragged him through the crowd muttering

"No need for you to be here boy, you're one of the council, lets get away from the underachievers shall we?" He led Nathaniel through the corridors of the mansion, occasionally ducking through archways and impatiently, with a hint of frustration it seemed, ordering servants of the way. They ducked behind a tapestry and found themselves in a small dank room.

"I need to talk to you about something John" he said, his energetic air evaporating as suddenly as it came, his face grew almost instantly drawn and haggard

" Are you okay Styxe?"

"I'm being watched," he whispered.

"Are you okay?" Nathaniel asked. "Shall I fetch someone?"

"No!" he grasped Nathaniel's arm, "No." He said lessening his grip. "I will not last the night I know that now"

"You're mad!" Nathaniel said. Styxe leant back against the wall.

"Those who the gods would destroy they first make mad," he said wearily. He pressed a small package into his hand.

"Now go, Nathaniel."

NATHANIEL

2

Nathaniel wandered around the corridors dazed and bewildered, his head spinning with half thought out notions and fears. Styxe knew his birth name. He had power over him that no other man had that would ultimately lead to his death. But if so than why hadn't he exercised his power already? Perhaps he was biding his time, or perhaps he did not intend to kill him at all. But ultimately there was but one question, how did Styxe know his birth name? Nathaniel ground his teeth; he rather knew he could guess that one. Bartimaeus, that cursed demon. He sat on an ornate bench. Against all his warnings the demon had betrayed him, despite all his threats and words, he had revealed his birth name. But why? He had no motive despite revenge and no sane person would jeopardise their life for the momentary pleasure of the other person's death, especially if that entity was immortal. It did not fit. Nathaniel cursed and stood up, he would find out now. He threw his wine glass to the floor; he would summon the demon now.