Guess what everyone! I almost got in a plane crash! Yaaaaay… D:
IT WAS HORRIFYING!
Anyone wondering why this chappie is late its because I absolutely REFUSED to do anything but hold onto my armrests fer dear life the whole goddam three hours I was on that plane. And I was still so terrified at the thought of having ANOTHER two hours to go in an even SMALLER plane… well, there was no writing to be had. THE END. I am sorry. And terrified. Just when I get over my car phobia BAM! Plane phobia.
Murphy's Law and Karma are absolute bitches! Tho murphy DID cut me a break, the plane didn't go down just rattle around a bit and dropped a horrifying forty or more feet before stabilizing. O.O I was not pleased.
My complete and utter life scarring terror aside… I have some responses to you guys!
Yaaaaaay responses actually directed at someone!
Carrol: Just so u know, it's because Bartimaus is an airhead. Get it – being of fire and AIR; airhead! *cough cough* Ehem, anyway after Nat's 'death' he began to think of him as Nathaniel instead of John Mandrake again – last book he suddenly stops calling him 'John' in his POV and goes back to his pet names and Nathaniel. Because Bartimaeus had a run in with Kitty in the 3rd book in which he reveals Nat's name and doesn't realize it until it is pointed out to him, and thus swifty changes topics and later when he notices Kitty's use of it almost immediately when he is again grudging of Nat. It seems to me that, depending on his emotional frame of mind and the way he views Nat at the time – i.e. magician vs. the young boy reminiscent of Ptolemy - he is less likely to notice when others use Nathaniel's given name vs birth name. I believe in the situation he was in, after screaming Nat's name everywhere and not once being reprimanded, as well as being in a non magical country – he would grow more complacent and hyper aware of the boy himself, rather than ways people addressed him. None – the – less you will see Bartimaeus picking up on the oddity of it later in this chapter – but not until it is pointed out to him. I think that, with the way his mind works, the events occurring and his new odd traits, he'd have a little too much to think about to fully recognize it enough to question it himself. Oh he'd take note sure – but I don't think he'd really register it until it was spelled out for him. Hope that helps with the confusion! Obviously I couldn't have a whole explanation arch in the story so im glad someone brought it up! :D
Peckforever: Thank you! You're pretty awesome, ya know? :D and yes, yes Nat is quiet ze brat – but he's best when he's cuddly AND vicious. Like a rabid cat. Daaaaaaaaw. It's a wonder Barty ever chose to save his life at this point, I'd probably throw him down the stairs myself buuuuut meh. And im really glad u think they are still in character – its getting harder to do as they veer further away from the canon plot line so im counting on you guys to slap me into shape if it gets too OOC!
Suicidal Liebe: Daaaaaaaaaaaaaw. Your comment was so incredibly sweet. I am so happy I was able to inspire you and I would LOVE to read one of your stories. The way the comment is worded it seems to me you're quiet good at it. Again, thank you for this awesome comment, it really made my day!
Metal-orgy: Nat doesn't like anything in my story. ;) Plus he's a whiner, Barty isn't too fond of them either but isn't as prone to belly aching as much as Nat. THE END. I HAVE SPOKEN!
Maria Rianki: THANK YOU! D'aaaw your review seriously made my day – so glad you like it! :D
To everyone else thanks again for your WONDERFUL support. Really truly, I appreciate every bit of it! Also, I may have to go into underground hiding as YET ANOTHER one of you wants to eat my face in a painful fashion *cough* NatCat129 *cough* and thus any further chapters will be from an underground bunkers somewhere off the coast of a secret chain of writers islands.
Also – no one noticed Brandon's eye color changing, I was curious if anyone would notice and you sadly disappointed me. I AM DISPLEASED! D:
Sorry fer all da babbling… ON TO DA STORY!
Bartimaeus
"Fine." Nathaniel sulked when it became apparent escape was not an option.
"Alright then." I said, a little surprised Nat didn't put up more of a fight – although to be fair he already threw a temper tantrum. He did seem a bit tired. Maybe what he needed was a good ol' nap. Not that he would get one, that is. I still had questions unanswered and general confusion to talk about. Trouble was, I had no idea how to start.
"So?" The boy hedged, hesitantly when I said nothing else. I was too busy wracking my mind for the least painful or humiliating way to go about this conversation.
"So," I ventured, clapping my hangs together in an attempt to muster some enthusiasm.
"So what?" Nathaniel hissed not even sparing a glance at me, glaring a hole in his bedroom door, probably cursing that blonde kid hiding in there. Poor lil Natty he just… wait a minute. Something I hadn't entirely noticed before (because I was too busy trying to figure out if it was possible to escape and avoid this horrid awkward talking business) suddenly came to mind.
"Hey, what did Brenan call you just then?" I asked suspiciously.
"It's Brandon." Nat huffed and ran his fingers through his hair as if exasperated, "And please don't ask me about that stupid nickname of his.
"What nickname? That wasn't a nickname just then." I wasn't truly aware that this Brandon fellow even had a nickname for Nat; I hadn't exactly cared to listen to much of what he said. No, what I wanted to know is if Brandon had just used Nathaniel's birth name before disappearing into the bedroom. And why. Kitty I could understand, but now some American twit? Surely I misheard, he must've said John or something, right?
Nathaniel sighed and, with the tone someone might use to address a mentally handicapped person said, "That's because it was my name. Don't tell me you've forgotten it already – you never missed a chance to rub the fact that you knew it in my face after all."
I stared at him for a second. How nonchalant he was, like it was no big deal. I couldn't take it, "He knows your birth name? After every little whine and complaint you had about Americans you go and tell one your birth name? You haven't even been here a year – are you really so stupid-"
"Shush." Nat sighed, placing a finger over my mouth with more force than necessary. He glared at me, and I could make out little bags under his light eyes. "You're giving me a headache." He pulled back and massaged his temple, pointedly ignoring my curious looks until I slumped back a little.
He brought his knees up to his chest and rested his cheek (Let's assume that whenever I say cheek it means his face.) on them with an air of exasperation.
"Don't laugh. Or get mad. Or do… just anything Bartimaeus-y."
"Uh… Bartimaeus-y?" I questioned. He shot me a look.
"Alright," He quickly ran a hand through his shorn black locks (Ah magicians, you gotta love 'em. Or not. I would seriously suggest not.) and wetted his lips in a rather nervous fashion. "Brandon didn't call me by my birth name-"
I let out a false breath, feeling oddly relieved. "Oh that's good. I supposed I just heard him wrong on account of all the excitement and whatnot."
"No. He called me Nathaniel."
"But-"
"It's not my birth name, well, it is but it's also just a name. My only name. I'm… well, I'm not a magician anymore." He cast me a nervous look.
I stared at him, dumbfounded.
I blinked once and then burst out laughing.
"Stop that." He said rather crossly. "It's not joke."
"Of course it's a joke!" I laughed, "You can't just stop being a magician – I think you mean to say you're incognito. Is that why you left? Got tired of your duties? But even so I don't think you want to give out your birth name willy nilly – could get you in a spot of trouble."
"It's not a joke, and I'm not incognito." He said stubbornly, "I'm a commoner. And handing out my name will do no such thing."
I sighed, hoo boy. He really didn't know what he was saying. "Nat. You can't just stop being a magician."
"And why not? Didn't you tell me to do just that when I first met you? I seem to remember you were keen on me becoming a sewer rat."
"Well that's because it suited you just fine." He made a face at that, "But it doesn't mean you wouldn't be a magician – you'd just be lying low really. That's what I meant. You can't really stop being what you are."
He drummed his fingers in an annoyed fashion atop his knee. "I need no such permission from you." He waved his hand, rolling it on his wrist, "Look about you, do you see any candles or incense or circles about you?"
"Well, no-"
"This isn't London, and this isn't and overpriced townhouse. And you, though I don't understand why, are here of your own free will. So tell me, how is it that I'm still a magician? I've done no conjuring or enslaving since I got here – I even help Darren on his fishing boat. I'm nothing more than a commoner."
"That there is why you're still a magician." I sighed, resting a hand on Ptolemy's knee.
"What?"
I fixed him with my gaze and said, "The way you talk, that pompous little attitude of yours, the way you keep running your hand through your hair," He paused in mid-preen and scowled, "That's why you're still a magician. You can lay low all you want but it still doesn't change your history, what you are. Heck, for all I know, you'll be back in Britain in a few years summoning me for yet another meaningless and impossible task for little to no gratitude. Face it Natty boy, it's what you are. And if you want to prance about telling people your birth name for the time being that's fine by me, just don't be surprised when some other magician off's you for it."
"You're wrong." He whispered, drawing his legs in even closer.
"No I'm not. You're born a magician, you die a magician. Doesn't matter what you choose to do with your life."
"Maybe, but you're forgetting one thing." Nat said.
"What's that?"
"I'm already dead remember? There is no magician named John Mandrake, I know that for fact. I checked the records before moving here. So how can I be a dead person?"
I opened my mouth to say something, closed it, and sighed. "As clever as that might be Nathaniel, it doesn't change the fact that you're still alive. You tend to have a knack for ruining whatever good things you have going. Like what you had with Kitty." I caught his eyes there, his ears reddening with shame, "You ever going to tell me why you broke that promise? You could have stayed in Britain and done whatever soul question you're attempting to do there – you know that, right?"
"No I couldn't." He sighed, his eyes brimming with tears, "Bartimaeus, I'm sure you understand right? If I had stayed there, with the city as it was, the way I am… I… just couldn't risk going back to that life. I won't go back to being a magician. I just… can't."
I didn't bother enlightening the kid with my amazing wisdom – how many other magicians had similar epiphanies only to return to their old ways as they aged. I suddenly understood why he had left Kitty and me, and felt a little sad at the thought.
He was burying his past.
He was trying to forget what he was so he wouldn't be tempted to go back.
I knew why he was so upset that I made that jibe about conquering London – he was truly afraid that he would do just that.
I wasn't entirely sure what to say. Maybe if Ptolemy had a similar line of thought he would've lived longer. Probably not. He was always in the public's eye. But Nathaniel… maybe he could actually get away with abandoning his magicianing ways.
No one knew he was alive, except for me.
There was no one who could hunt him down and drag him back into the world of magic like my old masters, everyone thought Mandrake was dead.
Suddenly I didn't feel like what I had wanted to talk about was even an option. It didn't matter what weird feeling he'd infected me with because he didn't want me here anyway. Surely he wouldn't want such a strong reminder of his past following him about. I was probably the last thing he'd ever want to see. I was his entire magical career laid out on a silver platter.
I cleared my throat, my mouth feeling suddenly very dry. "Do you want me to go?"
Nat's head shot up, his eyes surprised, "Go?" He echoed in awe, "I thought the storm was too strong."
"Not like that." I said quietly.
"You mean… like go away?" He still didn't quiet understand what I was getting at.
"Yes." I whispered; my stomach tying itself in knots, I felt like I was going to be sick. "You do remember what you told me earlier. I won't kill you, you know why. But… I will go away. If you'd like."
"Yes. I suppose so…" My heart dropped, he wouldn't even look at me. I had no idea the kid could be quiet so abrasive. "But I don't want you to go." Wait what? I jerked my head up and caught his eye, his cheeks flushed a light pink, "As for why, I can't say I know myself but… I suppose I don't want to lose you either…"
My heart slammed into my throat, hammering a mile a minute. "What?" Quiet as it was, my voice sounded strained even to my ears.
"Don't make me repeat it." He muttered hiding his face behind his knees.
I swallowed, and stared down at Ptolemy's hands, a stifling silence descending about the room save for the quiet rumbling of the storm outside.
Every now and again I'd hear the crack of thunder or the rain fall a little heavier. I wasn't quiet sure why, perhaps it was the proximity of me and Nat, but even in the cool little room I remember feeling warm. Very warm indeed.
Yaaaaay. There is closure! Sorta! :D
Now review! REVIEW if you wish to know what happens next!