Disclaimer: I do not own the Bartimaeus Trilogy or the world of A Song of Ice and Fire. I simply frolic in Martin's and Stroud's playground.

AN: I recommend viewing in 1/2 view. (You can change that via the paragraph button above.)

In a building of iron and glass, Nathaniel and I stood together, essence bound to flesh. I had made a long and successful career of running away at the perfect moment, but now, I knew that option was no longer available. We were going out together*.

*(Okay, technically Nouda would be going out with us. But it just doesn't sound as good including him, he was going to be the cause of my death after all, so there.)

Bartimaeus… The thought was very faint.

Yes?

You've been a good servant…

What do you say to something like this? I mean, with death bearing down and a 5,000-year career of incomparable accomplishments about to hit the fan? The appropriate response, frankly, is some sort of rude gesture, followed by the loudest of raspberries, but again I was stymied* – being in his body made the logistics too cumbersome to bother with.

*(Well, try giving yourself a rude gesture. It just doesn't work, does it?)

So, wearily, wishing we had some kind of maudlin soundtrack, I played along.

Well, um, you've been just dandy too.

I didn't say you were perfect…

What?

Far from it. Let's face it, you've generally managed to cock things up.

WHAT? The bloody cheek! Insults, at a time like this! With death bearing down, etc. I ask you. I rolled up my metaphorical sleeves.

Well, since we're doing some straight talking, let me tell you, buddy –

Which is why I am dismissing you right now.

Eh? But I hadn't misheard. I knew I hadn't. I could read his mind.

Don't take it the wrong way… His thought was fragmented, fleeting, but his mouth was already mumbling the spell. It's just that… We got to break the staff at the right moment here. You're holding it in check. But I can't rely on you for something as important as this. You're bound to mess it up somehow. Best thing is… Best thing is to dismiss you. That will trigger the Staff automatically. Then I know it'll be done properly. He drifted. He was having trouble keeping awake now – the energy was draining unhindered from his side – but with a final effort of will, he kept speaking the necessary words.

Nathaniel –

Say hello to Kitty for me.

A typical master. Right to the end, he didn't give me a chance to get a word in edgewise. Which is a pity, because at that last moment i'd have liked to tell him what I thought of him. Mind you, since in that split-second we were, to all intents and purposes, one and the same, I rather think he knew anyway.

Just as it happened once before, so it had now happened again, the unthinkable.* A magician had sacrificed himself, allowing me to live. As my essence began to lift from Nathaniel's body and the pull from the other place called, the thought drifted across my mind that Ptolemy would have approved.

*(And coming from a being of no little intelligence, that is saying something.)

And then Nouda was upon us. Mouths opened, tentacles slashed down. But as Nathaniel was about to finish the last word of the Dismissal, saving my very grateful life, the last light of his consciousness went out. And without Nathaniel's part of the binding, the staff broke.

My essence was still flowing from Nathaniel's body, anchored without the last word of the Dismissal when the explosive force from Gladstone's Staff ripped across the seven planes. The triumphant escape of the spirits of the Staff released such magical force as I had never seen. One instant I was on my way out of the world, humbled once again by the kindness of a human, and then in the next, Nathaniel's body was incinerated, taking my poor essence with it.

One would think that this would have completed my Dismissal and allowed my essence to return home. This, unfortunately, was not to be so.

While the call of the other place still rung in my ears, the vibrating tone of home and healing, a new and so far unprecedented pull wrapped around my essence, like dawn welcomes the twinkling stars. And as darkness embraced me, tender but strong, the call of the Other Place faded, replaced instead by the lulling promise of rest in the dark depths of night.

I am not sure how long I drifted in that darkness, silent and content, aware of nothing but the peace that comes only from the deepest of sleeps. In some ways, it was similar to the everchanging eddies of the Other Place, but in many ways, it was not.

In this place, if it even could be called such, I was alone, but at the same time I was not.* If I had ever had a mother, which I most definitely have not, I might have compared it to rest that may only be found by her side. There were even times that I could have sworn I heard voices, not peaceful voices mind, I don't mind telling you that one of them sounded rather miffed.

*(Look, I don't expect your measly human mind to comprehend all of the details, just trust me on this one.)

I might have only heard them on a few occasions, but with death being what it was, I can't quite say. All I remember are a few angry mumblings about 'breaking ancient dimensional laws' and 'mixing apples with oranges', not that I quite understood much of it mind, I was too busy enjoying death.

What? You expected me to be the inquisitive little demon? To happily eavesdrop on those whom merciful hands my essence had found itself in? Well, in most cases I would have been more than happy to do so, but I was far too busy recuperating. Not in a thousand years had my essence felt as peaceful as it did in the twilight realm which fate had stuffed me.

As I am sure that I mentioned before, I can not be exactly certain how long I spent in the embrace of death. It was not like earth where time is linear, or even in the other place where time is cyclic in nature, rather, time didn't really exist at all.

All that I am certain about is that one moment I was busy floating in non-existence, and the next my essence was surrounded by brilliant white light. The light was there for only the briefest of instances before it was replaced once again by darkness. This blackness was distinctly different from the darkness of death however*. Rather than the absence of light that darkness is defined by, this was completely different, it was as if there had never been any light in the first place.

*(The shadows of death have an almost physical aspect, in contrast to the essence of the other place which is quite metaphysical, and convey the rest that one receives in that realm. One could almost compare them to the warm currents of air that flow through the atmosphere of Earth, this comparison is of course on a completely metaphorical level. On second thought, I'm not quite sure why I am explaining this to you, you doubtless won't be able to understand.)

It was only after a few moments of complete confusion that I was able to figure it out*. The solution to my current conundrum was in part solved by the awareness that I could feel. Now, upon saying this I realize you might not quite understand. Let me explain. In death there is nothing except rest, you don't feel anything, nor is there anything truly to experience*. In truth, you are quickly lulled into a state of semi-awareness. So it came as quite a shock when I actually felt something.

*(I blame this miring of my whit on death of course. There just isn't much to think about in non-existence you see, but I digress.)

*(That is in reference to my death. For all I know, in death you humans prance around singing Carrolls to my greatness, how am I to know? My experience was singularly my own. If you question it, feel free to talk to someone else who has returned from death. Eh? You couldn't find anyone? Ah, me. I suppose you will just have to take me on my word.)

This sensation was touch of course, for the first time in a timeless period, I could actually feel my surroundings. It was through this discovery that I realized that the supposed darkness was not darkness at all, but just simply a lack of sight. With my awareness firmly back in place, I was able to quickly establish that I was suspended in a warm substance. While I could feel with a rudimentary sense of touch, I was not able to discern anything beyond that.

What followed was truly the most degrading experience of my 5,000-year long career. And coming from a djinni who has been stuffed into bottles for hundreds of years, been used as a marid's toothpick, forced to serve as a pharaoh's nanny and diaper assistant, and been suspended in silver and fish chowder, this is no mere statement. Even my lowest abasement of occupying Nathaniel's scrawny body could not quite compare to the cruelty that preceded this moment.

I fear that already you suspect the nature of my turmoil, but for the dullards among you, and for the sake of storytelling, I will elaborate.

For several months I floated in warmth. Over time my senses slowly returned to me, first of which was my hearing. I became aware of a constant rushing around me that flowed to a beat, next of what could have only been muted voices speaking in an unknown tongue. What followed was my sight. It was when my eyes first opened and saw through the dim light around me that the full horror of my situation became apparent.

Before me, I saw little pink sausages that ended with five little nubs sticking out of them. And from between these sausages I saw as much as felt the great fleshy snake that protruded from my belly and wound around my warm prison.

I could no longer deny that which for the sake of my essence I had refused to accept.

I was a child.

A unborn, human child.

Never had I, Bartimaeus suffered such an indignity. Sure I had debased myself for the sake of Kitty Jones, temporarily binding my essence to Nathaniel's body. But this? This was on a completely different level of sheer humiliation.

It was only with this realization that the full extent of my considerable mind awoke. Surely what I thought was happening could not be, I was no human to exist in their fleshy realm of blood, bone, human desire, and their not so subtle pheromones. I was a spirit of air and fire! I am Bartimaeus Sakhr al-Jinni, not a squealing little human infant!

Seized with a sudden desire to prove my senses wrong, I bent my impressive mind to the task of analyzing my surroundings. For the first time, I became intimately aware of the flesh that bound my muscle and bones, of the nerves that ran through my spine and towards my developing brain. And it was there, observing this bodies brain that the oh so unfortunate truth became revealed to me.

When I occupied Nathaniel's body, his brain and neural pathways could have been compared to a developed and well-traveled network of highways and motorways. You want to give someone a rude gesture? Simple! Just the tweak of a few nerves here and a few nerves there, and presto! One ticked of mortal giving you the stink eye. But no, not in this brain. This brain was a open canvas, a blank field with barely any animal trails, let alone a road.

I attempted to raise my index finger, and rather than a calm raising of a finger, my whole arm violently twitched, causing my wrist to ram into the fleshy wall of my prison.

Desperate to prove myself wrong I scoured the brain of this developing child, hoping to find just a smidgen of consciousness that I could succor and one day teach the words of dismissal, but such things were not meant to be. For there was no consciousness, no separate mind from mine. When I was one with Nathaniel I could feel his spirit, separate and puny as it was, seated at the forefront of his mind. And where I had ridden along in that body, I was now securely seated in that spot in this new body.

I could no longer deceive myself, I was now, at least in part, human.

:)

AN: Hope you enjoyed the prologue! Short, I know, but such is the nature of the beast.