Disclaimer: I don't own anything but my orange socks. And Alex. But he doesn't really count.
A/N: Much thanks to jedichild for your review! I dislike the Bartimaeus-Nathaniel shipping myself. And I hate it when canons are shipped homosexually when they are obviously hetero. Anyway! This chapter is back to the present (which means it's set just after chapter one. I'm so confusing and unhelpful. At the same time.)
Just a reminder for all you rusty Bartimaeus fans! The Shriveling Fire is "an incantation made up of 15 curses in five languages, used to destroy demons who deliberately disobey or refuse to carry out a command." -Johnathon Stroud's online reference.
Alexander had started uttering the first syllables of the Shriveling Fire. I could feel the heat building around me. He switches to the second curse, though still in the first language.
He's serious about this.[1]
"Listen to me, Alexander. You'll regret this. I've got marid friends. They'll be after you."
He ignored me, cruising through both second and third curses without a hitch. The heat is uncomfortable now- and it must be hot to bother a being of air and fire such as myself.
Blatant lies had failed me. It was time for a less roundabout method.
"Lexi. Listen up. I'm still good for countless years of service. I could be your most loyal djinni. I'd even remember your birthday for you."
I can see this interests him, but he still needs a bit more persuasion. The cat's fur has begun to smoke.
"I'd help you track down your parents!"
As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I regret them.[2] What had I just done?
Alex cuts off in the middle of his incantation- switching it for a fast, easy ward to protect him from the Shriveling Fire's backlash. Obviously, leaving a powerful curse such as the Fire unfinished was a dangerous gamble. Alex was lucky that his tongue was nearly as quick and clever as mine- his protection was up just in time to shield him from the Fire.[3]
While he smoothed himself off, I twitched my tail impatiently. Then the reality of what I'd said struck me once again and I switched to Ptolemy's form just so I could massage my temples.[4] After a moment or so, I looked back up at him.
We stood facing each other, a boy and a half-boy, equally scornful.
"You'll help me find my parents?" Alex's smirk dropped from his face. A sincerely hopeful expression fluttered onto his stern features, taking ten years from his countenance. He looked like a young boy.
The Egyptian boy shrugged. "I've already been to what I assume is their mansion. I can take you there."[5]
Lexi-boy is beside himself. "Go on, then, demon. We haven't got all the time in the world."
"Hold on, you fool. We can't just waltz in and expect them to accept you as their long lost son. They wanted you out of their lives for some reason, right?" My words were harsh, yes, but he needed to face reality. I wondered if he was still caught up in that royalty daydream.
Devastation crumples his face, and he sits down hard, holding his head in his hands. "Oh, you're right! What am I thinking?"
"Well, I wouldn't call it thinking, exactly."
"Shut up,"[6] Alex snarls.
A needle and thread appear and stitch my feline mouth closed. Grotesque, but I hoped to unnerve the boy. His suddenly gray-green complexion seems to be a sign of success.
Alexander stands, smoothes his hair yet again, and begins pacing. "We need a plan, Bartimaeus. I want to speak to them directly. If that fails, however, we'll have to…"
I shot to my feet, prancing and hopping as if I was on a bed of hot coals, with one paw raised in the air.
"Yes, Bartimaeus?" He sighs, seemingly resigned to my uproariously amusing attitude.
"We'll have to approach them about it in a different way. Perhaps some 'government ordained survey' or some such. It'll have to conveniently include a few questions about their children, medical conditions, etc."
Eyes wide, he nods. "So, where is this mansion?"
1. I've had masters threaten the Fire before. The more irritated of them have even begun the incantation. But, obviously, none of them have ever finished it. (Oho, that does sound quite ominous, doesn't it?)
2. Never have I topped this blunder. My famed silver tongue had finally turned on me. Oh, woe the day!
3. Another lost chance. Someday, I'd be the death of him. (That is, in fact, a promise. And not a threat.)
4. A human habit, but it was strangely satisfying.
5. It was at this point that I realized a potential (but serious) problem. What if the Halloways had vacated the manor long ago, and their journals had been left behind? Passing a library onto new owners wasn't an uncommon practice. And I'd found the journals in a sort of dark corner…who knew how long they'd been sitting there?
6. As always, my comedic genius is scorned the appreciation it deserves.