The Glass Palace, in PG, begins to burn after the explosion. It doesn't in this FanFic. And let's just say it wasn't quite that big of an explosion, shall we?

The Amulet of Samarkand pressed solidly against the skin above Kitty's pounding heart as she walked quickly through the rubble. Glass crunched beneath her feet, and floated down to nest in her short hair. There was no doubt about it—the Glass Palace was completely, utterly demolished.

"Nathaniel?" She picked her way around a toppled staircase, hopped over a fallen popcorn stand. "Bartimaeus?"

Dirt rasped over the floor, flowing over her trainers, blowing from a fallen potted plant. It looked plaintively at her. Kitty hefted it up, her limbs trembling with exhaustion, and set the pot gently on top of the popcorn stand. She patted its leaves and, her stomach knotting, continued on.

Kitty slowly circled the staircase. All signs of Nathaniel had disappeared. What, had he been vaporized? Along with Nouda, then, because there was no sign of the demon, either . . . Perhaps they had perished together . . .

An iron scrap, situated perilously on top of a mound of rubble, wobbled and then skidded downward. Curiously, a few seconds later another one followed.

Kitty darted forward and held out her hand, just as another scrap fell and landed on her palm. She held it up to her eyes and then tossed it away.

What was going on…?

Without hesitation, Kitty heaved herself up, glass pricking her palms, her muscles burning, and clambered to the top of the pile.

Just as the pile shifted again, sending several more scraps tumbling to the ground. Kitty yelped, lost her balance, and followed the pieces of metal to the floor. The air whistled through her ears, and she landed painfully on the staircase, draped across the first step.

One second passed, and then two. Kitty rolled to her feet.

"Nathaniel?"

A laughing scrap of metal hit her in the face. Kitty cursed silently and slowly began scraping bits of glass from the top of the pile. How she got into these situations, she never knew.

The glass pricked painfully at her hands, so Kitty unzipped her jacket and wrapped it around her palms, like a pair of gigantic cloth cuffs. After a few minutes of strenuous work, she hit something hard. Kitty leaned forward, looked in—and grinned.

It was a pulsing, shimmering Shield. She'd never been so glad to see one in her life.

It took a long while to clear away the rest of the rubble. But it was worth it. Inside, crouching low and moving the Shield from side-to-side, was a boy. Kitty could hardly believe it.

The boy wiggled his fingers and pushed lightly on the bubble with a finger. It fractured, then disappeared without a sound. Nathaniel wobbled to his feet, looking slightly queasy, and stretched. "That took forever. But thanks, Kitty."

She moved forward and stopped a few paces away. "Are you all right?" He didn't look all right. With a flash, she remembered the wound, and Kitty darted forward. "Is it…? Does it hurt?"

"Ah…yes. Yes. Yes, Kitty, it hurts, so don't you think you'd better not prod it?"

Kitty withdrew her hand. There was something off about the magician's behavior. "Bartimaeus?"

"Little me."

"Where's Nathaniel? Why isn't he talking?"

"Erm, yes…about that…" The djinni tutted, hemmed-and-hawed, making odd gestures here and there before lapsing into a silence.

"I'm waiting…"

"The boy isn't talking, all right? It's quiet in here." He tapped his head, which was coated with a faint line of sweat, and his hair was dusted with bits of rubble and dust.

Kitty's stomach plummeted so fast she was surprised to see that she wasn't falling. An odd sense of panic overtook her, and she brushed it away. "What happened? Is there something wrong with him?"

"Well, it's his body, after all, even if we're sharing it…and we did get hit on the head by a wall. Did I mention we killed Nouda?"

Kitty shook her head wordlessly.

"Well, we killed Nouda. It was quite dramatic."

Kitty focused intently on the djinni. "You said Nathaniel got hit in the head?"

"Yes."

"And he's silent…there's probably something wrong with his brain." She began walking quickly to the entrance. "We've got to take him—you—to the hospital."

"And we're going to say what, exactly?" Bartimaeus put his hands on his hips. He was frowning. " 'Oh, this boy has a brain injury, come and see!' And the doctor will say, 'He doesn't look like he has a brain injury,' and you can say, 'that's because he has a djinni in his head, controlling him,' and everyone will think I'm one of the escaped riot djinn. Not a happy ending."

Kitty backed down, holding up her hands. "Okay, I suppose you're right. But we have to do something."

"Do you know anything about head injuries? Brain injuries? This is kind of urgent, because I can't be dismissed until he wakes up."

" I don't know much."

Silence fell upon them both. Kitty spoke first.

"You're in the body of John Mandrake, you realize that, Bartimaeus?"

"Of course I do. I wouldn't forget a thing like that…" The djinni picked up a sliver of glass and eyed his reflection with a disgusted look.

"The John Mandrake, Head of Internal Affairs, famous in general, a public speaker, high up in the government. A politician." She raised an eyebrow. "You following me?"

"No…" Then Bartimaeus looked sick. "Oh…I see. Yeuchh. Really, is it necessary to…?"

"John Mandrake survived the riot, one of the few magicians to do so. He's vital in the rebuilding of London. It's necessary, all right."

The djinni crossed his arms. "I hate this."

"Sorry, Bartimaeus, but you need to. Until Nathaniel's back, you've got to play the part of John Mandrake."

00000000000000000000000000000

Nathaniel's house was destroyed. Completely, utterly destroyed.

The marble steps leading to the entrance were smashed and broken. The perfectly trimmed lawns and hedges were smoking and jagged. And the house itself had recently been on fire, so that it was blackened and charred, and close to caving in on itself.

Kitty and the young man stood side-by-side, staring up at the mess.

"I guess I can't stay here."

"No, you can't. You need somewhere else to stay, and you can't stay with me."

"Why not?" I crossed my arms. "It's not like I sleep, anyway. I can just roam the streets until morning."

"Do you think John Mandrake roams the streets in singed dress, his hair wild, all through the throes of night?"

"Not unless he'd been attacked by a horde of crazy ladies."

"Exactly. Remember, you've got to keep up the pretense."

I huffed, summoned up my last efforts. "I can't be Mandrake, Kitty."

"You have to try."

"Again, I can't stay with you because…?"

"John Mandrake, spending the night in the apartment of a woman? You don't think that would raise questions?" Her cheeks were slightly colored.

Ah. This was interesting…but to be pondered upon later. ((Too bad Nathaniel wasn't here to listen in. His thoughts…even I'd end up blushing. Adolescent humans, even ones that are nearly grown up—they're all the same.))

"Okay…so I'll just spend the night in the collapsing house." I raised an eyebrow at her. "Yes?"

"Bartimaeus." She dragged me down the street.

"Commoners don't drag magicians…?" I interjected cheerfully. She grudgingly released my arm.

We headed down the block. A fire burned in the distance; smoke spiraled upward, pluming across the bright sky. Some houses were nothing but ash; others looked untouched, vividly bright against the ruin.

"Where are you taking me?" The dark-haired boy frowned. "If I hear the name Farrar…"

"…then we can both run in the opposite direction. No, you're staying here."

We had stopped outside of a stooped, two-story house painted a buttercup yellow. Weeds grew lazily from the lawn, and dandelions curled in the breeze as they sprouted from the cracked sidewalk.

"Here?" I surveyed it for a moment, and then the memory clicked into place. "Ah. Jakob Henryk's house."

"Yep."

"I kidnapped him."

"Yep."

"You expect me to stay here?"

"Yep."

The boy blinked and shook his head. "Kitty, are you serious? Nathaniel almost killed the Hyrneks' son. And, unfortunately, I'm stuck in his body…?"

"Just do it, Bartimaeus. Only for a few nights, while we figure things out. See if you can handle the role of the politician." Kitty looked at me pleadingly, and the young man threw up his hands.

"I already know the answer to that question: No."

"Come on." Kitty led the way up the porch and to the door. "Act like a better version of Nathaniel."

A better version of Nathaniel, eh? That could be done quite easily.

Kitty rapped smartly on the door. "It's Kitty!"

Evidence of the riot was blasted onto the worn wooden door through a large, black scorch mark. There were several more peppering the porch, and on the lawn there were forlorn, crisped patches where the grass had burned and died.

The door opened, drawing my attention again. A worn-looking woman, her hair drawn up, caught sight of Kitty and smiled in obvious relief. "Kitty! You're all right. We weren't sure, and when Jakob phoned earlier he was out of his mind with worry for all of us."

"Everyone's okay?" Kitty stepped into the larger woman's comforting embrace. She seemed to melt away into a younger version of herself, someone more vulnerable and innocent. Then, as Kitty loosened the hug, it was gone.

"Yes, we're all—" Mrs. Hyrnek caught sight of me, and stopped dead. Kitty pulled away and gestured at me awkwardly.

"Um…Mrs. Hyrnek, meet John Mandrake…"

"The official that kidnapped my son, was it?" she said coldly, all signs of warmth gone.

Kitty, from behind Mrs. Hyrnek, pointed at her lips and forced them up into a smile.

I followed her lead and pasted a smile ((though somewhat grimly)) onto my—his—face. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Hyrnek. I apologize for past misdeeds. It was the idiotic adolescent in me—now, it's almost as if I'm a new person." ((I think it was rather suavely done, as back in the day my introductions began with a sword point, a battle cry, and then the roar of clashing steel was far too loud to make conversation.))

Kitty swung Mrs. Hyrnek around—the woman was scowling. "Mrs. Hyrnek, I can explain…"

"What is he doing here?" the woman hissed. I looked off into the Great Beyond and pretended my ears had miraculously lost their hearing. "A magician! And worse…he's the one that took my Jakob. Kitty, how are you affiliated with this man?"

A touch on my arm sent me spinning around—perhaps Faquarl had come back from the dead just to haunt me, I wouldn't put it past him, the devil—but no. It was a wrinkled old lady, scowling at me, and shaking her finger in my face. ((Looks like Nathaniel had affronted this old lady as well. No wonder he barely has any friends.))

"…no where else to stay," Kitty was saying. "Just for a while, Mrs. Hyrnek. I promise—and then we'll figure something else out." She looked at me meaningfully, and I nodded my head, trying to wrench my arm out of the old woman's grasp.

"Grandma, come inside." The woman brushed past me and took the old lady gently by the arm. As she swooped past again, Mrs. Hyrnek gave me an once-over look and then turned her back completely. Looks like it was a 'no.'

"You too, Mandrake," Mrs. Hyrnek called. "You're staying in Jakob's room."

I reluctantly followed her inside.

Once in the house, both Hyrnek women disappeared, ignoring me completely and showing their obvious disapproval of my presence.

Kitty trailed behind me as I climbed the stairs to Jakob's room. It, as in the room, was a musty-smelling thing, and the walls were painted a dreary gray. I sat on the bed.

"We'd better get this figured out soon." I snapped my fingers and played with the bits of fire dancing across my palm. Kitty watched me expressionlessly. "The Hyrneks definitely don't like Nathaniel."

"Who's Nathaniel?"

Kitty and I froze and then turned slowly to the door. Mrs. Hyrnek was standing in the doorway, a small bag in her hand. She looked back at us.

"Nobody," I cut in hastily. "I…ah…"

"You can keep your secrets, magician," the woman said. She crossed the room toward me and held out the bag. "I'd noticed you were hurt."

"Hurt?" Then I remembered the throbbing pain in my side. "Oh."

She knelt beside the bed and removed long strip of cloth, then wiped the wound clean and wound the strip tightly around it. "That should keep it."

"Thanks for doing this, Mrs. Hyrnek." Kitty spoke up from the corner. "We…" She darted a look at me, "…understand your complications."

"It's for you, Kitty, and you only," the woman replied bluntly, but as she left she looked toward me, and her eyes fell concernedly on the wrapped injury at my side.

I blasted the door firmly shut and turned to Kitty. "Where were we, again?"

"Talking about Nathaniel."

"Okay…so how do we wake him up? I don't want to walk around in him forever."

Kitty paced around the room. "I've been thinking."

"Brilliant."

"No, seriously, Bartimaeus—I picked up some stuff when I was working with Mr. Button. Books, old tomes, the like. Some of them were medical books."

"You remember something?"

"There was this one book. It was talking about…" She swallowed hard. "…Comas."

The young man winced. "You think that the old boy's in a coma?"

"Well, he's not reacting, and you're basically controlling everything—it would make sense. It's like he's in a deep, deep sleep, and he can't move his own limbs. There might be a flicker of consciousness in his mind, though. Can you dig in there?" she said hopefully.

"I can try. But there's no promises I'll find anything." I leaned back on the bed and closed my eyes, the pressure of Kitty's gaze boring into me. I tried to ignore it.

Hey, Nathaniel…it's Bart.

There wasn't a flicker. Time to try a different tactic. I rubbed my proverbial hands together with glee.

Guess what, Nathaniel: no? Not guessing? Okay, I'll tell you: Kitty likes you. Surprising, eh?

There came the faintest stir.

…

So you're listening, are you? Prat. You won't respond to my calls, but one little bit about Kitty and you're raring to go?

The stir roused itself a bit and I caught a gleam, the barest whiff of irritation.

I heaved out of the inner consciousness and opened my eyes. The bright lights shocked my eyes, so I closed them and reflexively flashed through the planes. Kitty's bright aura nearly blinded me again.

"Well, he's in there, you were right." I stretched. Kitty was listening eagerly. "A bit of chat and he kind of responded."

"He talked?"

"More like a stirring."

"Oh." Kitty deflated a bit. "I guess…at least he's still there. And many people take a long while to awaken from comas, very gradually until they wake up. A few wake up quicker than others."

"What about the rest?"

"Sometimes…they never wake up," Kitty said, very, very quietly.

If I were stuck in Nathaniel's knobby body forever…I would quite possibly go insane.