Bartimaeus

II

Geoff stepped out of his pentacle. Without even thinking, a thick tentacle of smoke began to follow him. There was an initial pain as it exited the circle, but that was to be expected. (While he said that I could leave the circle, it kind of had two problems with it. One was that it was suggested that it was only to read the letter to his mum. The second was that it was a command, so it made it even more hard to for my essence to attack him.) It began to accelerate, but I got a grip on it just in time-it had been within a couple of centimeters away from the back fabric of his shirt. I recalled the tentacle, and it retracted back into me. I wasn't trying to hurt the boy-his proposition and his sacrifice of control intrigued me and I wanted to keep good on my word that I would not attack, though I never said that I wouldn't out loud. That was why my essence reached out to consume him. It's kind of a habit, you see. Usually, when a magician steps out of the pentacle, he is no longer in control of much of anything and you can do what you want with him. It was only with great effort that I stopped the attack. (You see, us spirits don't have a 'brain', per say, since we are made entirely of essence, though there are certain similarities. For example, the conscience side of us is much like, I don't know, you're frontal lobe? You can control it easily without much effort, and it doesn't usually get the best of you. I would describe that in us spirits as the 'outer essence'. Our 'inner essence' is more of the unconscious side of your brain. It controls our habits. For example, what just happened would be a conditioned reflex. Think Pavlov's dogs, but instead of a bell signaling time to salivate, it's the sound of that first footstep out of the pentacle.)

I stepped out of the pentacle and went to the boy's dresser. Indeed, on it was an envelope on it. The envelope had a man's scrawl on it, which read simply 'Mum'. So far, the boy had been honest with me. I was still wary though. Who would give you their real name right off the bat? Perhaps it wasn't his real name and he was trying to deceive me. That sounded more like. Though the letter itself held no interest to me, I scanned it to see if the kid had accidentally put his real name in it somewhere. (While most of you reading would think that it would be a waste of time to check, I would disagree. Many a magician had been compromised when someone had scanned a letter to a birth parents, which happened infrequently but history has shown that magicians have discovered the parents who had given them up. Other times, they reveal their true names to their love interest as a way to sway her to marry him. Both are foolhardy, but has happed. So it's not necessarily a waste of time to scan through whatever papers are on a magicians desk.)

There was no aura around the envelope so I deemed it safe to open. (Well, no magical aura. There are several types of aura's, such as a life aura, love aura, or hate aura. Most humans don't give any of these but the magic type the time of day. The letter had a heavy aura of the love kind around it.) It was somewhat folded messily, though you could tell the kid had tried his best to make it look good. Hmm, another hint that he wasn't a magician. (Magicians are perfectionists by nature. It's the only way they can keep control of things.) Opening it, I scanned it. It read:

Mum,

If you're reading this, it's most likely because you found a scorch mark or something in my room, but not me. It's not because I pissed off a magicians like you know that I do, or that one of my old dealers came to the house and took care of me because of a debt. Also, if I'm not there, there's most likely two pentacles. I know how you feel about magicians and magic and all that, Mum, but I'm thirsty for knowledge. Nothing more, nothing less. I don't plan on using the spirits great power to wreck havoc on the magicians or knick things from people or something lowely like that. I simply want to see if I can do it and…I don't know. Learn something from it, I guess. But, again, if you're reading this, it means I have failed and am now dead. Don't cry, Mum, it was my fault. Overestimating my ability, being cocky, or something. You know me. I have a will hidden underneath the laundry basket. Just pick it up, it's in an envelope. I'm leaving you with the money I've saved up, Mum. Should last you a while, rent and food and all. After all, you have one less mouth to feed! Bad time for a joke, I know. Well, this is just becoming a rambling, I'd better stop before I start thinking that what I'm about to do is a bad idea. I love you, Mum. Geoff.

I wasn't thoroughly convinced of the boys honestly, but there were a great many things that made me believe him. First was the aura of love around the letter. It was a dark, dark pink, almost blood red in fact. That was the strongest kind of aura, which meant he had poured his heart, almost literally, into the letter. Second, he signed it with the name he gave me. Finally, everything the letter said about the great spirit was basically what he was getting at in the pentacle. (Just have to gloat a moment: the letter said great spirit and refered to me. It was a nice changed from the usual 'evil demon', or 'foul spirit'. I was beginning to like this kid.)

I replaced the letter into the envelope and returned to the pentacle. Once inside, I changed into Ptolemy. He sat cross-legged on the floor, one hand limp on his lap while the other supported his chin. I only had a few moments to think more about the entire situation when the boy entered with a meowing box.

He laid the box down on the futon and sat next to it. I watched with interest. He lifted the kittens, one at a time, closed his eyes and muttered, "Gínetai éna me to spirt.", rubbing their tiny heads with his thumb while he said it.Hmm, Greek. 'Become one with the spirit.' The boy obviously knew at least two languages relatively fluently, and it appeared he wasn't a Catholic, otherwise it would be in Latin, and they would most likely be 'the holy spirit'. He would also most likely be less for essentially sacrificing these living beings to me. (Well, if he were a modern day Catholic, that is. Early Catholicism had more of a Pagan twang to it, with the sacrifice of infidels and those who would not convert to a religion that they were not raised in. The result was the Crusades, though the men at the time didn't realize that 'God' and 'Allah' were one and the same. The being was the one the boy spoke of earlier, and had no true name. The last time he was called to earth, he cause a flood, but allowed one elderly magician to escape death by making an arc and filling it. I'm sure you know the rest; 'two of each animal' and so on. What I bet you didn't know was the this Noah wasn't the one who built the arc, or any of his sons. He had several djinni and a handful of afrits make the boat and gather the animals. How you people could believe a senior citizen could do all this is beyond me.)

All together, he blessed seventeen kittens all together, each sicklier than the last. All had mange, the fur falling off in spots, and wheezed horribly, desperately hanging onto the last thread of life they had. One or two were already on the brink of death; the didn't respond with the shuffling of the other kittens, nor when Geoff picked them up and blessed them. The boy was right; these would not survive the weak, and would definitely be euthanized almost as soon as they were taken from his hands. Though they were close to death, their beating hearts still flared essence, not a lot, but quit a bit.

The boy finished, and sat silently for a moment, eyes closed. He seemed in prayer. After about a minute, he picked up the box and brought them to the outside of the circle. He rest them gently on the ground, and back away. He turned his back, and my respect for him grew a bit. (You see, it's kind of rude to watch us spirits consume living things, though that doesn't stop most magicians from watching in fascination as we devour stray dogs and such to help keep our essence intact during our long enslavements.)

Bending down, I whispered the Quiet Lullaby into the tiny felines ears. (Quiet Lullaby: a spell which induces almost instant sleep onto the listener. Another little fact is that Odysseus had a djinni whisper this spell into the Cyclops Polyphemus' ear. This is how he and his surviving crew got the giant to sleep before binding him, not getting him drunk off wine. In fact, the djinni was the entire reason the crew survived the island encounter; he was the one who whispered the Quiet Lullaby, he was the one to tell Odysseus tell the Cyclops his name was 'No-one', he was the one to suggest they carve a point into the olive club and drive it into the beasts eye, and, finally, it was he who instructed the men to hide beneath the belly of the sheep as Polyphemus opened the cave to let them out to graze. Shame the djinni, named Peleus, was later used to make the Golden Fleece. Poor Peleus was charged with keeping the fleece the same color as gold until the end of time or the destruction of the fleece itself. It should also be noted that the member of Jason's crew to retrieve the Fleece with the same name has no relations to him whatsoever. Just another interesting coincidence in history.) As they slept into their last rest, I enveloped them with a thick black fog and entwined their essence with my own. Though there wasn't much there, I already felt a hundred time better, though a little nauseated as the sickness the kittens had purged itself from my essence through my essences pores. (Don't ask. It's a complicated case of the 'biology', for lack of a better word, of our essence.)

I whistled and Geoff turned around, spied the empty box, and let out a sigh. "At least they're in a better place," he said, running a hand through his long, thick, blonde hair. I should stop and mention here that his hair was in no way as long as Nat's. Whie Nat's went down past his shoulder blades, Geoff's was a good inch and a half away from his shoulders, and was much less oiler than Nathaniel's.

I shrugged. "True. I sure wish I was in a better place right now."

The kid smiled at this. "I'm positive you would. But I have one thing for you. Again, this is not a command."

The Egyptian boy in the pentacle opposite of his scratched his chin. "You sure seem to be set on not giving me commands." I commented. "If you're not here to order me around, why did you summon me?"

Geoff nodded. "I guess I could explain my plan."

Yikes! The kid had a plan! Again, my essence twinged a little at the thought of whatever he was planning. It was not going to fare well for me.

"I understand that one of your earlier masters allowed you to see the world. Am I right? It was Ptolemy, and unless I'm mistaken, that's the person whose form you've taken."

I felt a little uncomfortable with people knowing that I was in a past masters form, so I crossed my arms and snapped back, "Maybe, maybe not." (Taking the form of a human is one of two things: an insult to said human, or praise. Most often its an insult, often times to the individual and mankind in general. It's very uncommon and unpopular for any sentient beings to know that you're complimenting a past master. It's a kind of show of weakness.)

The boys eyes widen and he began to apologize hastily. "No, no, no! That wasn't an insult or anything! It was just an observation! I don't think it's a sign of weakness."

I still had my arms crossed, but felt a tad bit better about the ordeal. "Fine. This is Ptolemy, and, yes, he did in fact allow me the freedom to roam the world for a period of two weeks."

"How would you like to view that world again for two weeks?" Geoff asked, smiling. I guess I must have let my face show my bewilderment. "The world has changed since you've last seen it," the boy went on, getting off his stool and leaving the pentacle to shuffle throw a pile of papers on his desk. Again, I restrained from devouring him, but I stopped the tentacle before it even ejected from the pentacle. Much more of this and the kid would be a goner.

He returned, not to his pentacle, but entering mine to stand beside me. Whether or not the kid realized this, but he made a gutsy move. Entering the djinni's pentacle essentially meant that, if I so chosed, I could devour him, make him my own slave, or do a billion other things to him. (None of which are very nice, let me tell you.) But by doing this, he again earned more respect. Keeping my tentacles in check, I let him lean close and show me the pictures.

"Egypt." The photo showed the Great Sphinx, which I had built. Apparently, somewhere along the line, the spirit in charge of maintaining it had failed. "America." This one was a great obelisk, named after someone named George apparently. (Kind of a boring name, huh? George Washington. Doesn't have the same ring as Tutankhamun. Now there's a name.) "Russia." A great domed building with brightly colored posts. "The world has changed, my friend, and you have so much to see. If you wish, you can go see the world. If you don't want to, you can devour me or do whatever you wish to me since I have entered your pentacle. Or you can return home, to the Other Place, and I will never call on you again."

Oh, dear. Choices, choices. On one hand, I could devour the kid, soak up his essence like a dry sponge, and laugh my ass of all the way home. (Note: Djinni, nor do any Higher Beings, have an 'ass', 'butt', or 'trunk'. It's not the nature of our essence.) On the other, I could see the new world, just as I had done for Ptolemy, all those years ago. Well, curiosity killed the cat, but I am a djinni, and am made of much tougher stuff. I made my choice.

Geoff walked to the nearest window and opened it for me, then, standing next to the window in a slight bow and left hand extended towards me like a chauffeur, said, "The world awaits you."

I changed into a hawk and leapt from the window, soaring on the thermals and pondering on the boys certain choice of words. The world has changed…

My friend.