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"You are dismissed, Bartimaeus. Thank you for your time," the kid says politely.

I stare at him again. Wow, is he ever full of surprises for a scrawny kid. "What? You sure?"

"Of course."

I can feel the summons abate, the force of the cruel magic that ties me to this world fading, so I am not held here. It is hard to maintain my physical form, but I do. It's strange to want to stay, but my shock is a powerful motivation. "Sure you don't wanna, I dunno, torment me a bit first? Set me to commit some crimes? Coupla Stipples? Systematic Vice?"

"Unless you have some strong desire to be tortured, you are free to go," he says with the first true smile that's ever graced his face in my presence. It is a fascinating expression. He seems so truly amused by my consternation.

"And you call yourself a magician, kid," I shake my head in mock disdain. "You are disdaining hundreds of years of proud tradition. Take it from someone who was there. I gotta tell you, I've served more masters than I can count on one hand," and here I popped out a new appendage with limitless digits, "but I have never, never been summoned without being punished for something or other."

He openly gasps. "Really?"

"Don't look so surprised, kid. It's a hard life. If you don't mind…"

"Go ahead, Bartimaeus. You are dismissed," he says again, and I follow the summons.

I disappear, leaving no hideous aftereffects, only a small chirruping bird and the smell of flowers in summertime.

I tell myself it's to shake him up a bit. He seems so unflappable, and I'd like to see what he does now- one minute I'm accusing him of wanting to torture me, the next I'm leaving sweet scents behind.

And yet, even at this early date, I already know I'm lying to myself.

I want to see what he does now because…

I'd like to see another smile on his face.

I'm not sure why, really, I can't find a reason. He isn't particularly attractive- I've known some pretty dang good-looking humans. Most of them were fair maidens (or youths, evil isn't sexist or homophobic) I was charged to kidnap for twisted masters who couldn't get their attentions willingly.

I've spent time with some of these, my fellow captives, and found that beauty is really pretty meaningless. I mean, they look good, sure, but there's nothing inside that beautiful head. Besides, I can look however I want. Why would I have to pursue it in another?

But there is no shallowness in Ptolemy. He wants me to trust him. He cares about… about me. He has a desperate hunger to learn.

He's probably just another magician. It would be deeply stupid to trust him.

Yet I do…

And I don't know why.

These are human thoughts. They don't belong here. Already I can feel my siblings, my self, swarming to refute me. I cast aside my maunderings and turn into the swirl of life.