Hey, gang, I'm back! My muse has been going insane lately, so this chapter came a bit sooner than I thought.I just finished Chapter 5, which turned out great, and I can't wait to start Chapter 6, which iswhere the real plot begins. I want to thank all my reviewers, too. I'm glad you all like Morris and that the whole Ffoukes thing was a bit of a surprise, and I really need to thank Black Skittles (formerly known as Bitter Twilight)for the awesome shout-out on her author profile
: grins happily :
Anyway, now it's time to see how badly I screw up Bartimaeus's character... Anyone who checked out my livejournal post showing a clip of this will already have an idea.
Disclaimer: Do you really think I own The Bartimaeus Trilogy? Well, I don't. I do own my OC's, though, so... er... bug off!
Chapter 4
Civil Disobedience
"Negotiation in the classic diplomatic sense assumes parties more anxious to agree than to disagree." –Dean Acheson
"Huh?" Needless to say, my master was completely and utterly confused, not that this surprised me in the least. He'd been overeager and a bit excitable when he summoned me, and even forgot my name at first.
But Nathaniel being here… Well, that did surprise me. A bit. Being an esteemed world traveler I am, you begin to sense these things before they happen, and I'd been feeling a bit odd lately. I don't think it was that mouler I ate, either.
Anyway, where was I? Ah yes, the prick and his servant were just having an interesting conversation.
"Er, nothing," Nathaniel said rather hastily, covering his slip-up about as elegantly as an elephant on stilts. His hand raised to his hair, which was quite a bit shorter now (thank goodness), and he scratched his hand casually. (Again, I use this lightly. Extremely lightly. As light as a feather.) "I've come in contact with this spirit before. A fairly nice servant, too, though he's got a bit of an attitude."
I think he meant this to irritate me, but I'd heard it all before. As Solomon had once told me, "Bartimaeus, I believe you are going to get insulted many times in your lifetime, and I thank the gods for that."
"I hadn't noticed, but I'll be careful," Ffoukes stated obediently, nodding. He had raised a hand for me to follow him off somewhere but Nathaniel spoke out.
"Hold on, Ffoukes," he said, stroking his cheek in contemplation. I could tell by his quickened breath that he was nervous, thus meaning he was obviously lying. "This spirit has come in contact with members of the first Resistance, if I am correct. I would like to have a quick word with him, just to get a little background information."
Ffoukes nodded once again. "Yes, sir. Shall we go in your office?"
Nathaniel stared at him.
"I would like to see him alone." Ffoukes raised an eyebrow. "If you will hear me out, I'll explain myself. Both Bartimaeus (I believe I have correctly stated the name of your servant) and myself have had a good deal of experience dealing with these matters. Any information we could share would be confusing and disorienting to you. I do not want you confused. Don't worry, though; I'll have a word with you about what you've done."
Ffoukes gulped. "Yes, sir," he replied. He turned to me. "Bartimaeus, go with Mr. Mandrake."
I sighed dramatically and nodded, but to no effect. Nathaniel merely checked his watch and headed off somewhere, to his office, no doubt, and I followed. Once we were out of earshot, I smirked.
"So, Nat, I see you've gotten a haircut recently!" I exclaimed energetically. "I've got to say, I'm pretty proud of you. And you've gotten rid of that second skin you used to wear as a suit- hey, is that an Italian hat?" Nathaniel looked up.
"I thought I was John Mandrake to you," he said blankly. "That is what you called me when we last saw each other." I shrugged.
"New wardrobe, new person, or at least that's what I'm hoping," I explained with a poker face that would've made my old master Tyco quiver in fear. I had forgotten completely about the whole 'Nathaniel becoming Mandrake' thing. "And also, it's much more fun to see you squirm when I say your name. Nathaniel!"
"Shut up!" he hissed. I chuckled.
"My point exactly."
He didn't respond, still a bit red in the face, and threw a large door open. Crossing a large room and sitting down behind a desk, he sighed. "If you would be so kind, please close the door."
I wasn't so kind. He gritted his teeth and shot out of his chair, walking in as cool a manner as he could manage and shutting the door, muttering some enchantment (most likely a Soundless Barrier) and strutting back to his desk, plopping down in the chair once again.
"Well, anyway," he said, his feathers (not that he had feathers, although I'd like to see that) a bit more ruffled, "to business."
"To business!" I agreed, leaning back in my chair and propping my legs up on his desk. He glared at me and yanked the papers on which I had so politely placed my feet out from under me, dusting them off carefully and sticking them in a drawer. Even if he did get on my nerves, I had to admit, Nathaniel was amusing. His head popped up from below the desk, where his drawers were (I'm talking about the furniture kind, too, you pervert), and he gave me another stare. Any other djinni would have hid under his chair at this point- that, or laugh openly (probably this option)- but not I, the noble and great Bartimaeus. And besides, I wasn't facing the Shriveling Fire if I disobeyed his orders. Why should I be respectful?
He sighed and rubbed his eyes as business-like as possible, which isn't very at all.
"Bartimaeus, I know we have had our differences in the past-"
"If those were differences, then the Great War was a skirmish," I interrupted.
"-but I believe it is in the best interest of both parties-"
"You mean, this is best for me."
"-that we reconcile and move forward like civilized beings-"
"Civilized? That's what you call yourself?" Much to my delight, I had finally gotten to him.
"Will you be quiet and let me finish?" he growled furiously. I shrugged.
"I don't know, maybe. It depends what's in it for me," I said. Much to my shock, he smiled.
"That's what I was trying to get to before you starting cutting me off every three seconds," he stated. "Obviously, I don't want you to reveal my true name. But of course, you're wondering why you shouldn't'."
I gasped in mock surprise. "Wow, it's like we're speaking the same language!" He smirked. Uh-oh. Smirking was never good.
"Still a sarcastic annoying bugger, I see," he chuckled. If he was finding my unbelievably piercing and cold remarks funny, this was either a) good, because he was clinically insane or b) bad, because if he thought insults were entertaining, he'd probably got a trifle more powerful. "Let's face the facts, Bartimaeus: it's been four years since I originally summoned you. Don't you think I am able to summon an entity more powerful than you by now?"
"I don't know," I said, shrugging. "If you're as lazy and corrupt as most magicians, you'd probably be too drunk to study. But since I know you, I know you're never drunk, just crazy." He scowled. There, that was better.
"Don't worry, I am," Nathaniel warned, leaning across the table towards me. "In fact, last month, I summoned an afrit named Lilic for a mission in the Americas."
I looked at the ceiling, deep in thought.
"I think I know Lilic. Is she the one who always seems high?" He frowned.
"Actually, Lilic is a he," he informed me briskly, shuffling some more papers. This seemed to have taken the place of brushing his hair to the side as a habit. "Anyway, this is my proposal: you don't reveal my name for the duration of your service with Ffoukes, and forever thereafter, and I in turn will not summon an afrit to blast you into oblivion. It's your call."
I thought for a second or two. Blasted magicians and their blasted proposals. Once again, I, Bartimaeus, was getting screwed (again, not in a sexual way, you pervert) in a deal with a magician. Business as usual.
"Fine," I sighed, standing up. Nathaniel smiled in an extremely annoying fashion, and I desired deeply to knock the grin off his face with a Detonation or two. But that probably wouldn't end well for me. Damn magicians.
"Now, I must consult with your master about the events of today," he declared, not that I cared a bit. Maybe he'd get so angry at Ffoukes that he'd kill him. Or maybe they'd get in a fight and kill each other.
But my daydreams were cut short and he motioned for me to follow him back to my master and the other magician, who was dozing in a chair lightly. Nathaniel sighed.
"Morris, get up, you're embarrassing me," he ordered, tapping the man on the shoulder. He shivered suddenly (with a hand as greasy as that touching me, I would too) and his eyes opened.
"Oh, you're done?" He looked at his watch. "Man, I only got five minutes of sleep in. I thought you were going to talk for a long time, seeing as you were gathering background information."
Nathaniel's cheeks began to turn a light shade of red, and he covered them up by wiping his face with his sleeve nonchalantly.
"We got held up," he stated simply. He turned to Ffoukes. "Now, I must talk with you."
Ffoukes looked past Nathaniel hopefully. "To your office?" Nathaniel shook his head.
"No, I want to make this clear to Morris, too," he said coldly, staring down my master with icy eyes. "What you had Bartimaeus do earlier today was one of the most idiotic things I have ever encountered in my career. We could have gotten information from him, maybe struck a crippling blow to the Resistance! But no, you thought it would be rather heroic to play the hero and wipe him away completely, destroying our only lead. What were you thinking?"
"I just thought I'd show a little justice-"
"No, you weren't thinking at all," Nathaniel said sadly, shaking his head. He bit his lip. "But, we can't exactly erase it. See if you can get any more leads from the shop, though. Maybe some of the other members don't know of his death and will be waiting for him to return."
Ffoukes nodded obediently, and for a second I thought he'd salute Nathaniel. "Yes, sir." Cue the immense sucking-up. "I'll get right on it, sir. Servant, come."
Reluctantly, I went with him, out of the building and into the open air. However, I couldn't compress a smirk and one snide comment.
"Nice going, boss." He scowled at me.
"You'd best watch your mouth," he seethed. I grinned as he turned from me, walking away.
My day had finally begun to look up. This guy was more fun than Nathaniel.
-To Be Continued-
Author's Notes: A very short chapter, but it really couldn't be any longer without bogging it down, seeing as the entire scene is about five or ten minutes. I also had to end there because it was just convenient for the plot. Overall, I thought I did a decent job with Barty, but that's for you to decide. Please review and tell me how I did!
Next Chapter: In A Pool of Blood, Kitty and the Resistance begin their search for Dylan, only to find out that maybe they shouldn't have even done so in the first place...