A/N: The Bartimaeus Trilogy is a childhood staple that I still re-read to this day. When I discovered Lockwood and Co. a few years ago, I fell in love with it just as quickly. I've always thought it would be great to see a crossover between the two, so this fanfic was created! Enjoy~
Mirror, Mirror
"What is that thing?"
"Dunno, Luce." Lockwood flashed a grin. "Looks like a portal of some kind."
"It makes me uneasy..."
"Oh, come on! It's interesting!"
"'Extremely sketchy' is the term I would use." This was George, who paused to wipe his glasses on his shirt before focusing again on the strange, ethereal hole in front of us.
We were on yet another paranormal case, investing yet another supposedly haunted building. The owner had bought the property but wanted to clear the area of any wayward Visitors before he tore the original house down and replaced it with a swanky hotel. So far, two hours into the investigation, we'd encountered some loose floorboards, a jammed door that nearly broke George's already squashed-looking nose upon being opened, and a general feeling of unease. Though we hadn't come upon any actual Visitors, that certainly didn't mean they weren't present. The fact that we had just stumbled upon a plethora of spiders suggested quite the contrary, in fact. However, all we had uncovered so far was a strange, unnaturally dark mirror that, when accidentally jabbed with the tip of my rapier as I turned to leave the room, began to emit an ominous hum and project an image of the entryway to the house upon its surface.
This is what we were all staring at with rapt interest. Lockwood's grin widened.
"I say we go through it!" he exclaimed, gesturing to the mirror. I raised an unimpressed eyebrow.
"We don't even know what this really is," I pointed out. Lockwood let out a small chuckle.
"And we won't know until we investigate, will we? Maybe this thing leads to the Source!" Gently, he reached out towards the surface of the mirror. To George and my surprise, his pointer finger slipped right through it, as if the surface was made of water.
"Lockwood, I don't think that's wise-"
"Come on! It probably has a false back and was designed to look like a solid object. I can only sense a vague energy coming through it, anyway; certainly nothing to be concerned about." He cut me off with another grin, much to my dislike. I narrowed my eyes.
"You should know by now that Lockwood isn't famous for his wise decisions," George commented, causing me to train my glare upon him. He shrugged and pulled a cookie from the god-knows-how-deep recesses of his pocket. He took a huge bite and continued in the midst of chewing, gesticulating wildly with the cookie in hand. "If he wants to investigate something, he's going to do it. Besides, his leg's already halfway through."
"What?!" With a start, I whirled around to find George's statement somewhat true: Lockwood had indeed stepped into the portal, but at this point his entire leg was consumed by the rippling surface. He turned to me and jumped through with a wink, rapier held in front of him to ward off any unwanted things that might be waiting to greet him on the other side.
"I don't believe this...," I muttered, taking out my rapier as well. I was about to step through the surface when I realized that George hadn't moved. He seemed particularly transfixed by a brick at his feet; obviously, he had even less of a desire to jump through the mirror as I did. Still, that didn't mean he got a free pass.
With a resigned sigh, I grasped George's shirtsleeve and gave a forceful tug, plunging us both into the strange, water-like surface of the mirror.
We emerged in the entryway of the house. Everything seemed just the same as when we originally entered a few hours ago, save for the fact that we took a nonsensical shortcut to get there. Lockwood stood at the bottom of the grand staircase, rapier still in hand but no longer held out in front of him.
"What were you thinking?!" I began, marching up to him. I still had George by the sleeve, a fact which I quickly remedied by letting go with a light shove.
"You made me drop my cookie!" George exclaimed indignantly, righting himself and brandishing his empty hand towards me.
"I'm sure there's a whole candy store in those pockets of yours," I snapped back, not in the mood to listen to his whining. He replied with some sarcastic retort but I ignored this, continuing my walk until I planted myself right in Lockwood's view. I placed my hands on my hips and stared straight into his face. "Anyway, that was the stupidest decision! Why would you just go through like that?! For all we knew, it could've closed on you and... well, I'd hate to think of the ramifications of that!"
I shivered at the thought, and then quickly turned to the portal- or, where it should have been. There was no mirror in sight- an odd thing, since we'd just walked through it-, but I assumed it was resting against the wall just around the corner where we had found it in the first place. Still, I'd made a valid point; what if it could close, and more importantly, what if it already was closing? I opened my mouth to voice this concern, but Lockwood held up a hand.
"Hold on, Lucy," he said, softly. I wanted to give him another piece of my mind for putting a hand in my face to quiet me, but I could tell that he was serious. He sensed something. His eyes met mine for a brief moment and he asked, even softer, "Listen; do you hear anything?"
I opened all of my senses then- outer and inner. Sure enough, there was a dull noise, like faint whispering. It seemed to be coming from somewhere upstairs. We all turned towards the staircase- even George, whose senses weren't nearly as good as ours, knew that something was amiss. He and I quickly held out our rapiers as well, matching Lockwood's readied stance.
Suddenly, a small shape darted out of a room at the top of the stairs. We all tried to focus on it, but the thing disappeared almost as soon as it appeared. That tiny shape wasn't the most intriguing being in the house, however.
To our surprise and extreme confusion, a boy emerged from the room as well.
Though it was hard to tell from this distance, he appeared to be a little younger than me. His dark skin and jet-black hair countered his bright, golden eyes, visible to us even in the dim moonlight shining through the window atop the grand staircase. He wore nothing but a white skirt-like garment- the type of thing you would most likely picture the ancient Egyptians wearing. This was especially surprising due to the fact that it was a whopping 49 degrees in the house and dropping steadily.
"...Who in the blue blazes is that fool?!" George muttered, to an immediate chorus of shushes from Lockwood and me. The boy certainly looked foolish, I had to admit- and apparently normal, for that matter, especially if George could see him with no trouble at all. However, something about him unnerved me. I could sense a vague outline surrounding him, but as usual, my Sight was less than fantastic.
The boy turned to us when he heard George speak, and the whispering suddenly got louder. It was strange; usually, the whispers I hear either come from one distinct voice or, more commonly, a plethora of lost souls all vying to talk to me at once. This time, however, the voice definitely originated from one place. It sounded almost as if this same voice was layered on top if itself, like the one voice contained a second, constant stream of thought separate from its main dialogue, but still running at the same time.
...It's rather hard to explain, in all honesty.
"Hey!" the boy suddenly shouted from atop the staircase, breaking my concentration. Instinctively, I raised the rapier higher in front of me as the boy descended the steps. As he came closer, I got a good look at his expression.
"Well, he seems rather miffed," George commented, putting his rapier back onto his belt. Obviously, his sense of danger had passed, for he began rooting around in his pocket for another treat. I remained on my guard.
"Hello!" Lockwood said cheerily, lowering his own rapier as the boy approached. I noticed that he did not, however, put it back onto his belt. Maybe he saw something that I couldn't. "We're sorry, we didn't realize that anyone else was here!"
The boy came to a halt in front of us, arms crossed and one eyebrow raised. Getting a closer look at his face, I saw thick, black outlines of make-up around his eerily golden eyes. He really looked as though he'd stepped out of a picture of an ancient Egyptian child, though he definitely didn't carry himself like one. The air around him was thick with a foreboding sense that there was quite a lot more to this boy than he let on.
"Neither did I," he responded curtly, eyeing us one at a time before finally settling back on Lockwood. "In fact, there wasn't supposed to be anyone else here... Please tell me you're just some crazy kids who dared each other to explore a creepy old house and not some secret agents I should be worried about..."
The term "agent" made my hand twitch in surprise, though thankfully I kept the rest of my composure in check. For some reason, I wasn't sure the boy would recognize us for what we were so easily.
"...We were just exploring the house," Lockwood responded, effectively side-stepping the boy's accusation. I glanced over and could see him squinting, as if he desperately wanted to put on his sunglasses. His Sight was obviously working at full capacity.
So was my Hearing, now that I focused even more. The whispering sounded much louder than before, like the Source was right in front of me. I looked back at the boy curiously.
"What in the world are you doing here?" George asked, his eyebrows creasing unfavorably. Lockwood, in turn, began rummaging around in his coat until he pulled out a pair of dark sunglasses. I frowned as well, mirroring George's expression; it seemed that whatever Other-light that Lockwood could detect had finally become too much for the naked eye.
"I should ask the same," the boy responded, crossing his arms and jutting out a hip in a manner inherent of someone with a serious attitude problem. His deep gaze swiveled between the three of us and when he focused on me, the overlay of a faint voice swelled and made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.
"Well… we're investigating," Lockwood spoke up, an easy smile stretching his lips upward. Almost hesitantly, he placed his rapier back in his belt. "This building is very, very haunted, you see, and we've been called upon to sort it out. I'm Anthony Lockwood, leader of Lockwood and Company, and these are my associates, Lucy and George."
Lockwood thrust out his hand. The boy stared at the proffered limb for a moment, then slowly uncrossed his arms and gave Lockwood's hand a light shake.
"Bartimaeus," the boy responded with a smile, pearly-white teeth gleaming in the dim lamplight. George let out a noise that seemed a cross between disbelief and mild offence, but otherwise said nothing intelligible.
"It's a pleasure to meet you." Lockwood released Bartimaeus' hand and cast his gaze around the atrium. "By any chance… are you a free-lancing Agent working the case as well?"
I had assumed the same. It was much more likely that this boy was an independent Agent as opposed to someone randomly wandering around a spooky house in the dead of night with absolutely no protection against wayward spirits. However, to our surprise Bartimaeus merely raised a curious eyebrow.
"What in the world are you on about?" he questioned. Lockwood opened his mouth to respond, but then closed it again with an equally curious expression, scanning his gaze around the boy's figure. Bartimaeus let out a laugh and shook his head. "Don't worry your dull minds about what I am."
"Excuse you," I spoke up, hands planted firmly on my hips. "There's no need for insults!"
"Yeah!" George said, and I was astounded that he was actually backing me up for a change. "Call Lockwood whatever you'd like, but only we're allowed to insult Lucy!"
"Hey!"
"George, Lucy, please." Lockwood held up a hand and I managed to bite my tongue before spouting off an even ruder comeback. There was an awkward silence, in which we all studied each other with equal hints of wariness and uncertainty. Finally, Bartimaeus spoke up.
"…As charming as you all are, I have my own tasks to attend to that I'm certain have absolutely nothing to do with you, so-" Bartimaeus cut himself off, realizing that Lockwood had suddenly frozen in place and was staring slack-jawed at a spot a few feet higher than his head. A sly smile spread across Bartimaeus' face. "…See something interesting, Anthony?"
Instantly, I worried that Lockwood would have an adverse reaction to the use of his first name. However, by the expression on his face, that seemed to be the least of his concerns. His breathing was shallow and his wide eyes caused George to give my arm a concerned tug.
"What's wrong with him?" George asked, and I shook my head.
"No idea- Lockwood?" Gently, I shook Lockwood's arm. He jumped so violently at my touch, rapier suddenly in his hand, that I swear I almost lost a finger. "AH! Lockwood, it's me!"
"Wha- oh! Luce, I'm so sorry!" Quickly, Lockwood hooked the weapon back in his belt. Then, in a change of mood so abrupt that George and I suffered mild whiplash, Lockwood grinned and turned back to Bartimaeus.
"Fantastic to meet you," he said, including his head towards the boy in the loincloth. I surreptitiously checked my temperature gauge; it was now thirty-eight degrees. I shivered and pulled my cloak tighter around myself. Gaze still trained on Bartimaeus, Lockwood started backing towards the hallway containing the mirror-portal, grasping George and my hands along the way. "But we really must be going; lots of Sources to find and Visitors to subdue, haha!"
"Lockwood-" George began, but his protestation was cut off by a forceful tug on his hand that caused him to stumble and put all his attention towards remaining upright. I could not see the expression in Lockwood's eyes, but I knew that it must be intense.
Lockwood never backed down; something about this situation had to be very, very wrong.
As Lockwood continued to drag George and I away from the strangely-silent Bartimaeus, I made a last-ditch attempt to refocus my Sense and discover the source of the muted voice. The more I tried to find it, the more I realized it was indeed emanating from Bartimaeus himself, or at least from something directly on his person- which seemed unlikely, seeing as he was wearing very little in the way of clothing. For a few seconds, I only caught brief fragments of speech, but then a few sentences came into focus.
"-so incredibly idiotic. Humans still don't know a real threat when they see one, do they? Especially children… They should be tucked into their beds, listening to a bedtime story-"
"What…? Did you... did you say something?" I muttered loudly. The voice sounded exactly like Bartimaeus', though that was impossible- the boy's mouth was closed. Well, it was for a second, and this his lips split into another wide grin.
"Oh, you heard that, did you?" he said, a mild hint of excitement in his tone. "I'm not entirely sure how, but... Congratulations; you just got a glimpse into one of the most brilliant minds in history!"
Before I had a chance to respond, there was a harsh tug on my hand and I was pulled around the corner of the hallway, forcing my gaze away from Bartimaeus. To my relief, the portal was still there, and I wordlessly followed Lockwood and George through. While I was certainly curious to figure out what exactly was happening, I had to admit that I was beginning to feel rather uneasy.
Despite George's protestations, Lockwood refused to let go of our hands until we were standing in the mansion's atrium on our side of the mirror.
"What's gotten into you?!" George asked, once Lockwood had determined it safe enough to let us regain control of our own limbs. Lockwood took a deep breath, his gaze flickering between George and I before finally settling onto me.
"You heard something in there, right, Luce?" he asked. I nodded, and Lockwood mirrored the gesture. "Thought so. I definitely saw something, too… I'm not entirely sure what it was, but I didn't have any inclination to stay and find out."
"Well, regardless of whatever supernatural things you two sensed, that boy was certainly full of it," George commented, blinking rapidly as he cleaned off his glasses. "'Bartimaeus'… ridiculous!"
"Should we know why that name has any significance?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.
"No, not unless you've done a bunch of historical research… which I highly doubt, Lucy, since it's a struggle for you even pick up a newspaper most days." I sucked in a breath, readying a retort, but George continued. "Bartimaeus is the name of a supposed 'djinni' that apparently caused a lot of strife throughout various times in the past. 'Course, that's under the assumption that magical beings are real, which they obviously are not."
"Whatever the case may be, there was definitely something off about him," Lockwood spoke up, suddenly removing his own glasses, apparently forgetting that they had still been covering his eyes this entire time. He then lapsed into silence, and neither George nor I had any further comments to make, each of us lost in various thoughts and questions about our recent encounter.
Finally, Lockwood straightened up and gave George and I a matching pat on the back.
"Well, no use worrying about it now; in fact, I say we seal up the portal and move on with the investigation," Lockwood proclaimed. George and I spared each other a glance and nodded, agreeing that this was the most suitable course of action. "Great! We can tell DEPRAC about the mirror at the end of the night- once we find the real Source of this mansion's haunting."
"Good plan," I agreed, and George simply shrugged. With that, we walked back to the mirror, a little more cautiously than before, and quickly surrounded it with salt and iron chains. As soon as the end chain links were placed together, my focus in the house instantly shifted; whereas my attention had previously been directed to the hum coming from the dark glass in front of me, I now detected a faint moan from the upper floor of the mansion. Lockwood stared upward as well, as if he could see the faint echo of a death-glow through the ceiling above.
Flashing equally bright grins to counteract George's vaguely annoyed pout, Lockwood and I made our way towards the grand staircase located in the entryway. I swore that I heard a faint voice call for me, but when I glanced back to the mirror, its surface was as dark and still as it should be. I shrugged this off and ran to catch up with my fellow Agents, the thought of the strange Egyptian boy quickly pushed to the back of my mind.