A/N: Hi guys, I apologize deeply for the long wait. Has it really been a month? *Hides shamed face* Anyway, I'm back on my game now.
Thank you so much to all everybody who reviewed last chapter: Nari, belleoftheball, beautyfrompain, Tane (triple apologies to you since it's your fic!), Lisette, RenWrites, Joeylejoker, Eru-iggy-is, Elia's Moon Scape, Caitlin, music4evah, Random Person 356 (by the way, 356 is my favourite number. Coincidence? Yeah, probably.), SakuNaru-Chan, and The Wineglass. You are all awesome. And as always, thanks to Lady Noir for her super beta skills.
In other news – this story is now being translated into Spanish! SakuNaru-Chan has already translated chapter one, so if you speak Spanish, be sure to check it out here – www (dot) fanfiction (dot) net/s/5534945/1/La_Celestina#
So anyway – on with the crack!
The study had been skewered and gutted like a deer carcass. The desk drawers had been disemboweled, their contents strewn across the floor. The rug had been flayed from the floorboards, leaving carpet nails dangerously exposed, and a poor, decapitated table lamp lay helplessly at the foot of the overturned bookcase. Night had settled over the exposed entrails of the room like a death shroud, lending a still, silent dignity to the grisly scene.
The only sign of life in the upturned room came from the mighty huntress herself. Kitty sat back remorselessly in the only unbroken chair, balancing a dainty porcelain teacup between her hands.
Her eyes were blank and glassy as she stared idly out the window to where the crescent moon shone dully through a haze of inky clouds. Stirring at last, she tipped back her head and drained the dregs of her tea, then hunched forward in her seat and studied the floor. Her fingers danced restlessly around the rim of the empty teacup.
At that moment, the shapeless, bubbling black shadow that had been pulsating above her head dropped down from where it clung to the ceiling and knocked her to the ground.
Kitty would probably have screamed, had there not been a strong sedative hidden beneath the pleasant lemon flavour of the tea. As it was, she simply blinked perplexedly as she crashed into the floor, the teacup slipping from her hand and rolling out of sight.
"You know who's going to have to clean up this mess?" I asked, becoming Ptolemy again so I could sling the girl over my shoulder. "Me, that's who."
The girl didn't answer. Of course not, she was drugged.
"Sorry about all this," I mumbled, throwing open the window and casting the Impediment charm aside, "But I'd rather you didn't claw holes in my essence this time around."
Kitty was disconcertingly compliant as I clamored down the gutter pipe and jogged around to the front of the house where Nathaniel's big black limousine idled in the driveway. I pulled the car door open and set the girl down inside. She sank bonelessly into the leather seat, her chin falling limply against her chest.
"Thought y'couldn't help me 'scape," she mumbled as I fastened her seatbelt. Her words came out a bit slurred, but still remarkably coherent, considering what I'd dosed her with.
"Actually," I informed her, "I haven't violated my orders at all. We're going for a little road trip, but that doesn't mean I'm helping you escape. You're still in my custody…isn't that right Nat?"
Kitty's head flopped around to regard the other occupant of the limousine's back seat. The sight that met her eyes was odd enough to leave her gaping in disbelief, even through her drug-induced stupor.
Bound and gagged, Nathaniel was decked out like a hostage. His enraged purple expression clashed terribly with the neon orange extension cord I'd trussed him up with. His struggle for freedom had caused him to fall over across the bench so that his face was smushed into the fine leather upholstery.
In my opinion, the kid had never looked better.
He sputtered, red-faced, no doubt trying to shout orders at me past the bundle of handkerchiefs I'd crammed in his mouth, but to no avail. He couldn't exactly give me orders while gagged, now could he? I shot the boy an insincere smile. It was time for me to show Nat just how far a djinni with half a brain could twist the rules.
"Wass'ee doin' here?" Kitty mumbled through her speech impediment.
Nat flinched away from her wrathful glare.
"Don't worry," I told him, "I've got her on anti-anxiety meds. We both ought to be safe for the next couple of hours at least."
Nat, it must be said, did not look reassured. Well, too bad for him. I shut the door on the happy couple and climbed into the passenger's seat, then turned around to prop my chin up on the headrest, regarding my captives.
"I'm sorry it had to come to this," I told them gravely, "But you two are ridiculously uncooperative."
"Wha'r you doing?" Kitty asked.
I ignored her and instead gestured grandly to the imp perched behind the steering wheel.
"Driver, take us away!"
Stoggles gave an impertinent salute as he pulled out of the driveway and eased out onto the street like he'd been doing it his whole life. The show off.
[1. I at least felt a smidgeon of satisfaction in the extreme shortness of the imp's gangly legs; to reach the gas pedal he was forced to slide so far down in his seat that his bulbous nose barely poked above the top of the steering wheel. Sure I couldn't help but cause wanton destruction when I was in the driver's seat, but at least I cut a dashing figure while doing it.]
The digital clock on the dashboard blinked three o'clock in blockish green. Street after street slid past the windows, each more empty than the last. A light rain at last began to fall, obscuring the passing streetlamps into dull yellow blotches of light.
"Bartimaeus, you gonna tell me wass goin'on?" Kitty slurred, breaking the silence. She seemed to have already regained most of her facilities, though there was certain slowness in her movements.
"Sure. This," I said calmly, "Is a kidnapping. Well, no, actually it's a date. A date and a kidnapping. It's a special one-night-only, two-for-one deal."
Kitty's eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.
"But I don't wanna date you."
I reached back and patted her hand. "Not me, dear girl. Him!"
"Stoggles? Please tell me yer not serious." The poor girl looked like she might be sick.
"What, did I slip too much Valium into your drink? I'm talking about Nathaniel, Kitty! Or…uh, Mandrake. Sorry."
The impact of Nat's death-glare was slightly impeded by the orange polka-dots on the handkerchief I'd stuffed in his mouth. I tried not to dwell on the fact that Nat was going to have me burned for this. Or burned, eviscerated, dunked in molten lead, and hung from the clock tower, more like.
Kitty grimaced. "Thiz oaf? No thanks. Lemme out here, please." She jiggled the door handle optimistically, but of course I wasn't having any of that.
"I'm not saying I disagree with you in principle. He rather is a bit of an oaf after all–"
"Mmmfph!" Nathaniel protested.
"–But there's no denying your undying love for each other. I question your tastes to be honest."
"Bartimaeus!"
"Oh – stop here!" I ducked out of the conversation to grab a hold of one of Stoggles' elbows. [2. He had several, all bending in different directions. Quite handy.]
We had pulled up beside a respectable-looking establishment. At least, the patch of sidewalk in front of the building had been swept clean and there didn't seem to be any rats, which was more than you could say for most of London.
The faded red awning above the doorway read Mario's Pizza in big, blockish letters. A lesser mortal might have been deterred by the fact that the lights were out and the sign on the door had long since been flipped to closed, but not I. A locked door was simply an invitation. Or something. I was still working out that line of logic.
"Bonjour mademoiselle," I said, helping Kitty hobble out onto the curb, "Your très romantique dinner awaits. I, Bartimaeus, shall be your server this evening."
"Please lemme die here," Kitty mumbled, turning her face beseechingly to the heavens. A swift kick took care of the door, and soon I was sitting Kitty in her seat and lighting a dozen half-melted tapers with a single Inferno.
"Ah, that's much better." I said as the blue flames filled the room with soft, flickering light. Behind me, Stoggles stumbled in with a trussed-up Nathaniel slung over his shoulders like a yoke.
"Put him down over here, mate," I told him, gesturing to the spot across from Kitty. The imp silently complied, which I'm afraid was not as per norm for our working relationship. Luckily in this case we both had the same thing at stake – namely our freedom – and it seemed a little cooperation would not be amiss.
"And now," I said, pulling out a notebook, "Can I take your orders? You sir?"
Nathaniel shot me a burning glare from beneath all the limp hair that hung in his face and hunched over even further in his seat.
"Ah, the poached salmon. Very good choice. And what will you be taking, ma'am?"
"I'll take one ticket out of here, thanks."
"And escargot and frogs' legs for you. Well then." I snapped the notebook shut and whipped it across the room to where Stoggles stood by the door to the kitchen. The imp caught it neatly and ducked into the back room.
"Well that's that." I planted my elbows on the table and leaned in eagerly. "Now don't mind me, I'm just here to chaperone. Let the date begin!"
Kitty stared.
Nathaniel glared.
The tension in the room was palpable. I looked nervously from Nat to Kitty and back again, half expecting them to leap from their seats and strangle me.
[3. I swear there was murder in their eyes. Kitty was looking at me like she wanted to rip out my spleen and serve it to me on a bed of fresh greens. As for Nat, his face was so radiantly red I could have used it to boil soup.]
I figured I had to cut the ice before my captives started mutinying. I cleared my throat.
"Perhaps you two ought to try a little pre-dinner tête-à-tête? Chat it up a bit?"
Kitty tipped her chair back on two legs and regarded me with an even expression. Her coordination was returning to her at an alarming rate. "Tha' might be a little difficult, considering that one of us is gagged," she said.
"Oh, right." Well, that was unfortunate, but I couldn't let Nathaniel have the chance to give me an order.
"I don't suppose you know sign language?" I asked him hopefully. "No? Well, we can't let the conversation lag when there's a pretty girl relying on us…" I reached over and grabbed his chin.
"Hello Kitty, I'm Nathaniel," I warbled in a high, flakey voice as I bobbed Nat's chin up and down, "My, you look lovely this evening."
"Why thank you," Kitty said graciously, playing along much to Nathaniel's distress. "And yourself, you're looking…very…"
"…Humiliated?"
"He does seem to be, doesn't he?"
I poked the young magician in the shoulder. "Cheer up old boy. An ego as over-inflated as yours can survive a little bruising."
"Pride goes before a fall they say."
"He's got to learn to take his lumps."
"Mmmphf!" Unable to continue suffering in silence, Nathaniel let a sound of muffled irritation and thumped on the table so that the cutlery rattled.
"I don't think Nathaniel is enjoying this turn of conversation," Kitty observed.
I froze at the sound of that forbidden word. "Nathaniel?" I said weakly, "Nathaniel, who's that? I've never heard the name Nathaniel before!"
Kitty raised an eyebrow. "That's his name, isn't it? His birth name. You've only said it about half-a-dozen times now."
"No, of course not – don't be crazy! We don't know anyone named Nathaniel…right Nathaniel?"
Nathaniel rolled his eyes and stared up at the ceiling as if he expected someone to drop down and save him from this madness.
"Uh, oops." I patted the boy tentatively on the shoulder. "Well you can't say I didn't try and keep it a secret, right Nat? Um…why don't I run along and see how the food is coming? Bye guys."
I scooted out of the room without a second glance, leaving the young people to work things out between themselves. If I shoved my foot any further down my throat I'd wind up bruising my internal organs.
ooooooooooooo
"What is that?"
"Poached salmon à la Stoggles," the imp before me sniffed. The apron he wore was smudged with black gunk, and in his hands he balanced a platter upon which was sitting some kind of unfathomable monstrosity.
"Salmon is made of fish," I pointed out.
The imp waved a hand. "Well, what'd ya expect, mate? This 'ere is a pizza parlor, not a specialty foods store. 'ere ya go, it's better than nothing, innit?" He shoved the foul thing into my arms. I tried not to wince as the eye-watering stench hit me full-on.
"So then…what is this exactly?" I prodded it carefully. My finger sank through the goopy grey substance with a despondent squelch.
"Lotsa stuff. Ground up pepperoni, pickles, anchovies, glue –"
"Glue? You're feeding them glue?"
"Eh, it can't 'urt. Four-year-olds eat it all the time. 'sides, I couldn't get it to stick together all proper, otherwise."
"I think it's looking at me. You sure it's…cooked?"
"Naw, those ain't eyeballs. It's just tapioca and summa the grit from behind the stove."
I stared hard at the concoction. "If you're sure…"
"If it makes ya feel better, pass it on over 'ere and I'll give it a good smack over the 'ead."
"Did you see that? I think it moved!"
I set the platter down on the countertop and backed away slowly. Stoggles hid behind my shoulder.
"It can't be alive," he whispered, eyes wide and fixed on our goopy foe, "I poured in a whole quart o' bleach when it was stewing."
"Let's…let's just throw it out and start over, okay?"
Just then, a low guttural sound like a belch burbled up from the depths of the monster-dish. Stoggles and I exchanged nervous glances.
"On second thought, maybe we should call the fire department and let them deal with this. They have hatchets. And hard hats."
I was half-way through calling 999 when a clattering crash sounded from the front room. I shoved the phone into Stoggles hands in a panic.
"Tell them to send the bomb squad!" I called over my shoulder as I raced out of the kitchen.
The scene at Kitty and Nat's table was exactly what I had feared.
The table had been knocked over, littering the floor with cutlery and broken china. The rug was singed and melted where the lit candles had extinguished themselves against the cheap fibre. But far, far disconcerting was the fact that Kitty had left her seat for Nathaniel's side, and was currently in the midst of slicing apart his bonds with a butter knife. They turned as one as I entered.
"Hey guys…" I cleared my throat and inched back nervously, "…Nice to see you two working together…"
The boy straightened up as the plastic extension cord fell, and regarded me with a false calm – like a shaken soda bottle that you just know is going to explode all over you.
"Bartimaeus," he said, slowly, carefully rising from his seat, "You and I are going to have a lot to discuss."