A/N- This is my first fanfic, so let me know what everyone thinks of it. Constructive criticism appreciated. If I don't get any reviews, I won't continue the story.
Disclaimer- Everything recognizable in here belongs to someone else. The unrecognizable things (few as they are) belong to me.
WARNING! Ptolemy's Gate spoilers in here! Don't read on if you haven't read the third book and don't want it to be spoiled.
After the end of Ptolemy's Gate:
I drifted around in the Other Place, mingling with the other essences of the various imps, foliots, djinn, afrids, and marids that were also taking time off from various jobs and various masters. Once I was like that too. I had a job and a master that I was eager to escape from. Isn't it funny how you don't realize how much you cared for a person until they're gone? "Absence makes the heart grow fonder," someone once said. Death does the same thing to you. You'd think I'd finally learn after what happened to Ptolemy; to appreciate what you have while you have it, not after it's gone.
You can think of many things while you're in the Other Place. The thoughts up above were some of the things that passed through my head; other thoughts included how many of my friends had had their essence blown away, what Kitty was doing right now, and how long it would be before I was summoned again. The last thought was unlikely to happen for a while; most everyone in the magical world thought I was dead right now, joining said friends. Well, I wasn't. The only reason I was still able to think those thoughts up there was because of my last master- Nathaniel. He had done something I had never expected of him and done the same deed one of my previous masters, Ptolemy, had done- set me free when we were both doomed, therefore saving my life.
I wondered if Kitty would ever try summoning me again, just to see if I was still alive. Then I could tell her the truth about what had happened back in the Glass Palace, and tell her the message that Nat had wanted me to pass on to her. "Say Hello to Kitty," he had said to me (or rather thought to me, since we were sharing the same body). Hopefully someday I could pass the message on, but for now there is no use worrying about it, for I could do nothing until I was summoned.
I settled down to wait.
50 Years Later (In Earth time)
London, England
A dark room in a penthouse
"…And I summon thee, the jinn Bartimaeus!"
Ahh, my first summons in who knows how long. The voice doing the summoning sounded like a child's voice. It also sounded like it was the child's first summoning of a major entity (like myself). I decided to give said child a scare.
The child watched fearfully as a dark blue mist swirled around the room, while a church bell tolled in the distance. The room turned to ice, and the child, who had forgotten to bring a coat, shivered miserably. For a second there, I almost felt sorry. Of course, the moment that emotion surfaced I pushed it quickly back down, for a noble jinn's job to be scary, not to be compassionate. However, I could ease his discomfort and make the room warmer, so I did. I made it dreadfully hot, hotter than Hell (assuming there is such a place. I wouldn't know).
The poor lad looked terrified. Perfect. He was a rather malnourished lad, with stick-like limbs and a shock of pale yellow hair. He had a pointy chin and was of moderate height. I really didn't feel too bad about scaring the kid, because there was probably a wizened old coot in the other room telling the kid exactly what to do. It had happened countless times before.
"WHAT IS YOUR BUISNESS IN CALLING ME TO THIS HOVEL TODAY?" (Actually, it wasn't exactly a hovel; it was a quite nice room in a penthouse in what appeared to be the wealthy part of London. It's all in the theatrics)
Expecting a demand to humiliate someone or steal something (the last time I had been summoned by a new master it had been to steal a powerful magical object which caused loads of trouble, death, fire, etc. etc. If you want the whole story, then read the first book written in my honor, The Amulet of Samarkand), I was taken by surprise when the kid asked me in a quavering voice, "I would like you to answer some questions."
Earlier in the day, in that same penthouse in the same part of London, the boy's master, by the name of Theophilus Throckmorton, had announced to his rather bored 12 year old apprentice that it was time to pick his name.
"After that we, I mean you, can work your first summoning. I'm thinking an imp, or possibly a Scarlet Vexation, if I think you're ready."
Throckmorton was a kindly man, with a shock of black-rapidly-turning-white hair, with a fatherly disposition; however, he had no idea how quickly his apprentice had progressed. Little did he know that Jack, his apprentice, had already gone far beyond summoning the ranks of imps and Scarlet Vexations and was planning to summon a major jinni later that night. However, in Jack's school of thought, what his master didn't know didn't hurt him.
"Here, go and bring Loew's Nominative Almanac now. You'll find the four hundred and forty-fifty edition sitting on the top shelf in my office. It has a blue leather binding, and I believe it's sitting next to that horrible glass vase that Aunt Martha gave a while ago."
Jack had quickly run and fetched the book. As the years had passed by it had grown into a weighty tome. When Jack reached his master, slightly out of breath, Throckmorton said brightly,
"Now, let's pick your name! There are many names to choose from, and as long as it's not already in use, it's yours. How about Macmillan Bloom? No? How bout Blaine Treacle? No?"
The picking went on for at least an hour. "Ah, here's one. And it was used just 50 years hence. It's a nice name. What do you think?"
Jack looked at the name on the page. It was okay. He had heard something about the last magician who used it. Something about an explosion…oh well. He nodded and signed his new name at the bottom of the pages proclaiming him as a named apprentice.
"Huh! You only want to ask some questions? No thefts or dirty deeds?"
I was so surprised I changed from my smoky billowing form into one more comfortable for me. Namely, the form of a tall, lanky 16-year-old boy with a pointy chin and a dark hair in a crew cut.
"Yyes." The poor kid was still stuttering, however it seemed that my form change had made him feel a bit better. "I wish to know how many total djinn there have ever been."
There was a new question. "Well, why do you want to know? And why would you call me? And what's your name, don't worry, I won't use it against you?"
"I'm curious. So, how many are there?"
"Well, I don't know for sure. At least a million recorded, but you all lost those books in the burning of the Library of Alexandria. I don't know how many there are unrecorded. Let me go back to the Other Place and see if I can find a better answer. What did you say your name was again?"
"I didn't." The boy began to speak the Words of Dismissal. As I faded away, I heard a distant voice. "John! John! Come here! It's time to do your first summoning." Inwardly I grinned. Just as I thought. A newbie. "JOHN MANDRAKE, YOU COME DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT!" My surprise made me lose my grip on the Earthly world.