Latest chapter yet, I know. Three weeks, was it? Well, the next chapter was another that wouldn't come, but it was really a combination of things, including a birthday, the 4th of July, and a trip to Boston for a few days. But excessive listening sessions of Coldplay and Oasis helped me pound through Chapter 16, and I think the influence is obvious.

So, here's the chapter I've billed as the turning point of the story, and I'm sticking by that. It's long and I think I edited it alright although its length may make it a little rough, but I'll try to fix the mistakes.

Enjoy.

Disclaimer: See previous chapters.

Chapter Fifteen
Rules of the Game

"Sing like you think no one's listening.
You would kill for this,
Just a little bit,
Just a little bit;
You would, you would."
-Straylight Run's "Existentialism on Prom Night"

Oh, no.

No, no, no.

"Well, well, the terrorist is speechless," Mandrake mused quietly. Kitty longed to knock the stupid smirk right off of his face, but she couldn't move. She couldn't breathe. Her muscles had frozen into place.

This was not good.

No shit, Sherlock, she thought to herself. Optimistically, her brain was somewhat functioning. But seeing as the rest of her body wasn't, this wouldn't help at all.

But Mandrake wasn't moving either. She found this especially odd, for he did (she presumed) have control of all limbs. He was gazing at her intently, the poor light bouncing off of his eyes and giving them a certain glimmer, and he barely blinked at all. Kitty wondered why he did not step away, or attack her, or do something, no matter what. They were centimeters apart; Kitty could feel his breath tickling her face, and she was certain that if he stuck out his tongue he could lick off the light amount of lip-gloss she had on.

She had heard screams, yells. They had sounded far too familiar… and now she was right in front of the one magician whose sole purpose was to capture and detain them.

How had things gone so wrong?

-

Thirty minutes before Kitty's encounter with Mandrake, the members of the Resistance had been situated near the back wall of an old rundown warehouse. Jack, Joel, and Glen were standing alert near the river, while Clarice and Katherine were keeping watch from behind the group. The others – Elliot, Yasmin, Thomas – were sitting and talking quietly amongst themselves. Kitty stood to the side, but she could hear what they were saying.

"You guys nervous?" asked Thomas in a low voice. He didn't usually speak, actually, and thus surprised Kitty. He would often sit quiet in meetings, and many times would be gone for long periods of time, but he was fierce, sometimes stupidly fierce.

"Of course not," Elliot replied confidently. Kitty wasn't looking, but she could just imagine Elliot's chest puffing outwards at this point. "We're professionals. We can do this. No sweat."

Yasmin coughed. "You're an arrogant one, aren't you?"

"No, it's called self-esteem. You may not have heard of it, but it's this thing that most people need."

"Thanks, I didn't know that," said Yasmin venomously, but Kitty could hear the fear in her voice. She was shaking. Kitty could tell. "I'll have to keep it in mind next time I think someone's a cocky fool."

"Why, you little bi-"

"Settle down," Thomas cut him off. "We don't need any fighting… at least not now."

"What would you know?" spat Elliot. "How old are you, thirteen?"

Kitty could feel Thomas clench his jaws. "Fourteen."

"Oh, big difference."

"Did you know that you're a bastard?" Thomas retorted irritably. "Really, you are. You're a bastard like no other."

"Does your dear old mum know that you're using naughty words?" Elliot's voice was taunting, like a bully in the schoolyard picking on the smaller kids.

"Elliot," breathed Yasmin as calmly and patiently as she could manage, "please, please, stop being an arse for a few minutes. You're giving me a headache." But her words were still icy, not having forgotten what Elliot had been about to call her.

"You are a headache yourself, so no surprises there," he muttered.

"Oh, nice one," Yasmin spat. It came out too quickly and jumbled, and it was easy to tell that she had been trying to restrain herself from saying it.

"Believe me, I've got plenty more."

"You must not have many friends back home with that kind of personality."

Elliot chuckled. "Oh, don't worry, I do."

"Who said I was worrying?"

"Very funny."

"You know, it's rude to eavesdrop," came a voice from her side.

She started forward out of surprise before relaxing once more. "Stop doing that, will you? It's bad enough that I'm nervous as it is."

"Sorry," Jack said. But he was smiling as if he wasn't sorry at all. "But I was under the impression that Kitty Jones didn't get nervous."

Kitty laughed shrilly. "Oh, of course. Why would I get nervous?"

Jack's lips twitched involuntarily, and his carefree look vanished. "Are you ready?"

"Yes," said Kitty stonily. He wasn't convinced. "I'm ready. I'm not so sure about the rest of us, though."

"Oh." Her reply had not been what he was expecting.

Neither of them said anything, instead settling on looking out onto the Thames. It was calm at midnight, the water eerily still. Everything was serene.

But not for long.

"Bastard!" Thomas cried angrily from behind them. Jack and Kitty's eyes met and they laughed.

So much for tension.

-

Only minutes later, they were inside the boat. There were three hallways running down the length of the ship, or at least it appeared that way. They couldn't really tell as it was pitch black inside and they didn't want to risk using a flashlight, especially when so much was at stake. It was here that they ran into the first obstacle in their path.

"Okay, let's split up," Kitty announced to the group.

Yasmin gave her an odd look. "Are you sure we should split up?"

"Of course," said Kitty. "In case this is an ambush, they might not be able to get all of us."

"But if it is an ambush, then we're definitely going to get caught," Katherine stated. "If we're going to split up, we need to be in big groups, right?"

"Okay, just do whatever you guys want to." Kitty crouched down and lifted a hatch in the middle of the path. "I don't really care. I'm going by myself."

She dropped down through the hole and onto a thin carpet beneath. Someone kicked the hatch shut behind her, and if she had thought that the level above was pitch black, then this was just the epitome of darkness.

If she was to go forward in this darkness, her eyes certainly wouldn't be guiding her. Standing up, she straightened her arms out in front of her and began feeling her way slowly to the other end of the hallway.

She shouldn't have gotten angry with them. Kitty knew that they were just doing what they thought best, they were just doing what they thought they could to save themselves from their own fear. But she remembered Gladstone's tomb. The only remaining survivors of the Resistance were Nick, who ran before anyone could stop him, Hopkins, who hadn't been there, and her, who had used a piece of silver to distract Honorius the afrit. She was still alive because of dumb luck.

Kitty shivered, and she would have wrapped her arms around herself if she didn't need them for "seeing". It was colder than she had thought it would be. She was doing her best to keep quiet but due to the clattering of her teethwas failing miserably.

And what was she looking for? Where would this weapon be? She had left before they had even had the chance to discuss that. It was probably in a big room. Kitty didn't know. After they had done their sweep of the ship, they would come back to that issue. Although they had never really agreed on a spot to meet up after the sweep. Her fault.

There were screams above her, knocking her from her reverie. No. No. This couldn't be happening.

More screams.

A few seconds passed.

Yells, plenty of them. She counted all of them over in her head… That was enough for the entire Resistance – minus her.

It was at that moment that her hands hit something: a ladder. Apparently, she was in the cargo area of the ship. How had she not noticed? Maybe she could get the weapon and – no.

No. There were more important things at the moment. She didn't have time.

Kitty put one hand above her head and grabbed a rusty rung and slowly pulled herself up the ladder. It was tedious work, but as she progressed she went faster, ignoring the numerous cuts she received on her hands. Her blood made the ladder slippery, and on one occasion got in her eye, but she couldn't see as it was, anyway.

Finally, her head hit something hard, and she swore. Reaching with one hand to feel it, she instantly recognized what it was. It was a hatch, or more appropriately the lever to a hatch. She loosened it as she hung on with one hand, and after what seemed like ages lifted the hatch up. Kitty stuck her head out quickly and looked around the immediate area. It was too dark; she couldn't see a thing. Well, that meant that whomever had brought down her friends would be blind, too, so it was a fair fight. Sort of.

Kitty put her hands facedown on the edges of the opening and pushed herself upwards and onto the floor. She didn't really know where to go. She could see a hallway running to her sides, where at each end there was light coming in from a small window. Backwards would be no good, for she hadn't heard anyone walking above her. Forwards it was, then.

Straight-backed, she began creeping forward slowly. The beating of her heart was clogging her head, or else she would have heard nervous breathing in the direction she was going. But she didn't.

Instead, she saw the source of the breathing.

Kitty had not been able to see him until she was up close, less than a meter away. Most likely, he had been able to see her (after all, she had been standing in the lighted hallway), and had not moved. But now, it was too late. She was too close to him.

After an uneasy silence, he spoke.

"Hello, Kitty Jones. Fancy meeting you here."

-

Kitty returned to the current situation. Here John Mandrake was, stationed firmly in front of her with that infuriating arrogance of his. The Resistance had made a fatal mistake, and he damn well knew it. He wasn't an idiot, after all.

But what could she do now? The rest of them were caught, or at least detained. What could she do to help them?

No, wait, Kitty thought. What can I do to help me?

What could she do? She was caught, red-handed, and there was no chance that – wait a second.

All that stood in her way was John Mandrake. Did it look like there were any demons in the area? No, and she knew from prior experience that if Bartimaeus was in the area she probably would have already been knocked out or something of the sort.

Mandrake was alone. He was the only thing in her way.

"It is useless to struggle, Ms. Jones," said Mandrake in an all-too-calm voice. "It does not matter what you do. Even if you do somehow manage to escape, we will find you. We've already captured your friends."

Kitty's eyes locked on his intently. "Well, I guess I'll just have to try my chances, then."

She burst forward and knocked him off of his feet, and he fell to the floor with a grunt. Without looking back, she ran down the hallway as fast as she could and threw the door open at the entrance to the ship.

Kitty Jones wasn't going to be a stationary target.

-

She had kept running, running until she disappeared into the streets, until she blended in. She had kept running until finally she reached a familiar door engraved into the surface of the London cafés.

Kitty opened the door slowly and entered the cellar as she closed the door behind her. That same pipe was still leaking as it had only hours before, when she hadn't been the only one not captured. They had met here so many times… After they found Dylan… After Mandrake had nearly caught them… Katherine had tried to cheer Kitty up in her own odd way, and it brought a smile to Kitty's face remembering that.

But now they were all captured. Most likely because of her. As if her conscience wasn't dragged down already.

Kitty knew that she couldn't let the guilt catch up to her, though. She had to stay ahead of it while she managed to stay out of the grasp of the Empire, and along the way she would have to find a method of freeing the Resistance from their certain imprisonment. It was no easy task, rest assured, but she had to do it.

Flying down the stairs, she hurried over to the small ditch under the staircase in which weapons and other stolen items were held. She couldn't fit much in her pockets – maybe she could stick something small into her trainers – but she gathered as much as she could, which wasn't much at all. If she got into a fight with a magician, she had better chances just trying to distract them and run than actually taking them on head-to-head.

Kitty stood up as she stuck one more Detonation stick in her pocket and kicked dirt on the items she could not bring, as if that would protect them. She turned and hurried back up the stairs and out of the cellar, careful to shut the door behind her. Time was what she needed, time to think of an idea, but first, she had to make a visit. It was lucky that she was not too far away; it was perhaps a fifteen-minute walk if she took the back-roads and the alleys. She knew they never came to this part of town, or she would have located farther away, but she knew it was safe, as it was at least a twenty-minute drive if one used the roads as they were sure to do.

She stuck her hands in her pockets casually to make sure that nothing she was carrying fell out, as that would be extremely inconvenient, especially if one of them exploded. Of course, if one of them exploded, she might not have lived to see the consequences.

With those gloomy thoughts, Kitty trekked along the allies of the city. Flats were sprawled around her, sometimes interrupted by an occasional park or business or even a restaurant. She had to cross major streets every few minutes, but for the most part she stayed hidden in the so-called underbrush of the concrete forest, and this suited her just fine.

Suddenly, the forest stopped. It didn't really stop, actually; the unfamiliarity of it all stopped. They weren't just buildings anymore. It appeared.

Her childhood home.

It had been so long since she had left it for the last time. The memory was not a fond one, and was clogged far too much by the presence of Mandrake himself. But here she felt peace, solitude. She felt tranquility.

They were probably in there, her parents, sleeping soundly without a care in the world. Kitty envied them, actually. They weren't the ones risking their lives for a cause, and such a hopeless one at that.

Maybe it was the feeling of calm that Kitty had been feeling at the moment. Maybe it was the police cars that had pulled up so arrogantly outside her old home. And maybe, just maybe, it was the startled officer staring directly at her that had given her mind the kick it needed to devise the riskiest plan she had ever tried.

Before the officer could yell that he had found her, Kitty turned around and, as she had so many times that day, ran away.

-

The area surrounding the flat of John Mandrake was fairly nice. There weren't any rundown buildings and wasn't any need for barred windows as there were in the more suspicious parts of town, although there was the occasional graffiti sprayed across a wall. But the graffiti never lasted, as this was a residential area dominated by magicians, and in this way it was so different from the neighborhood that contained the headquarters of the Resistance.

In all honesty, though, they had never required cleanliness. They relished that they lived somewhere so different that it might have been a different city. It was just one more difference between them and the magicians.

Kitty could already hear the sirens in the distance as she picked the lock to the door on the roof of the flat. They added to her anxiety, but as the lock fell uselessly to the stone beneath her, it didn't matter. She knew this was stupid, she was thinking she would get caught as she twisted the doorknob and stepped into the cramped attic space. Mandrake probably had protective magic swarming his home, particularly such an inconspicuous entrance.

Apparently, he didn't. No alarms went off, no vines shot out from the walls. He must have forgotten in his excitement about their future encounter. He couldn't be home. His car wasn't there. What a dolt.

As she crept through the small room, she recognized a pentacle drawn onto the floor with numerous books adorning its side. This had to be the place where he summoned his servants.

Kitty sat against the wall, next to the door to the main living area, and waited. If Mandrake wasn't home, this wouldn't work at all. She needed to be patient.

Waiting was a wonderful inspiration for thinking, though, as she soon found out. Thoughts began drifting across her conscience, some of which she hadn't considered in her rush. How had he known they would be on the ship? Had Glen's confidant betrayed them? Was one of their number a traitor? How –

Two voices began to come into earshot all of a sudden. A door opened.

Mandrake was home.

"… That was certainly fun," someone was saying. Bartimaeus, of course. Kitty would never forget the djinni's voice, even if she tried. It had a knack for sticking to a person whether they liked it or not.

There was a grunt. "Depends on what your definition of 'fun' is."

That would be Mandrake. He certainly didn't seem too happy.

Bartimaeus laughed as she heard the door slam shut. "Oh, don't tell me you're sour about not getting the girl," he prodded manipulatively. He was trying to anger Mandrake, she could tell. "I mean, she is very difficult to capture. Even the more able magicians would have a spot of trouble with her."

"Shut up," sighed Mandrake. Annoyance laced his tone. "I'm tired."

"No time for that. The police cars are right behind us." For the first time, she noticed that the sirens were growing closer at a rapid speed, and her fists tightened into compacted balls impulsively. "I guess they think this Kitty is going to come after you. She's not that thick, is she?"

Kitty tried to prevent herself from knocking the door open and strangling the djinni, and luckily, she succeeded.

"Hm," was all Mandrake had to offer at that particular train of thought. "Where is Morris? I might call him to make sure cars are outside his residence also, if only to get some of these blasted police away from me."

"Well, he ran straight out of the ship and called in reinforcements after you started screaming like a pansy." Bartimaeus paused. "And then… the cops came and got the Resistance members we captured. No doubt they took them to the Tower. Morris left before they even arrived, I remember, because he never even saw the lot that I reeled in. No worries, I'll show him when we interrogate them eventually."

Mandrake said nothing.

"He did pretty well, didn't he?" mused Bartimaeus quietly. "He took out three of them. You wouldn't expect it of him, though. I doubt he knows what the word 'aggression' means."

His master coughed. "Morris isn't aggressive. He's just very good at solving problems. He was presented with a problem: how to detain three members of a terrorist group. And he solved it. It's what he does."

"I guess." The djinni didn't seem very convinced. "I think I'm going to go do something productive. I'm far too bored. Would you mind if I rampaged through your wardrobe to pass the time?"

"Sure," said Mandrake breezily, as if he was far too occupied to even process what his servant was proposing. "Go ahead."

"Okay, then. Call if you've got any more – er – adventures you'd like to share."

He trudged up what must have been stairs and far too close to the attic. His footsteps finally faded away, and Kitty let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding. This was her best opportunity. It was a gamble, of course, but it was one she was willing to take, especially when the payoff was so high, and if she delayed any longer she didn't think she'd have the heart to go through with her plan.

Standing up, she took one last breath and opened the door to the flat of her main enemy.

Mandrake was staring intently at a table when she stepped into the second story of his home. Well, he wasn't staring at a table, but rather what was on the table: a chessboard. He would mutter to himself every few moments, but besides those murmurs, he showed no other signs of life. He didn't even seem to have noticed that the door to his attic had opened and the much-wanted leader of the Resistance had stepped out of it.

Kitty thanked her good luck (well, momentary good luck) and tiptoed to the stairs. Taking them one by one, she slowly descended down the steps and into the living room. Mandrake was seated on the sofa only a few meters away from her. He still hadn't acknowledged her presence.

Very carefully, she made her way towards him. She didn't really know what to do at this point; she thought of covering his mouth so he couldn't yell for help but that would contradict what she had come here to do. No, she had to be delicate, she had to be smooth.

Just as she was thinking that, she tripped on a shoe and went tumbling to the ground.

Mandrake looked up for the first time in minutes and stared at her with eyes full of shock. His mouth fell open, and she found herself unable to move.

"K-Kitty Jones," he stammered. "What a pleasant surprise."

His words weren't nearly as intimidating as they were meant to be, but then again, Kitty herself was strewn across his floor. She hurried to her feet, making sure she made no hostile moves.

"Hello, Mandra- Mr. Mandrake," she stated in as dignified a voice as she could. "I have come with a proposition."

"Please, call me John," he said with a coy smile. "You have proven that despite your… social status that you may be considered my equal, that I will admit."

He was toying with her, she knew it. But despite himself, he looked intrigued. He wasn't already arresting her, and she had hoped that his arrogance and curiosity would lead him to at least hear her out. So far, her plan was working.

"So, Kitty – if I may have the honor of calling you by that name." She nodded slowly, and he continued. "What is this proposition?"

"I need your help."

This amused him apparently, as he chuckled. "That much is obvious. But why should I help you?"

"Because it's what's right," Kitty replied adamantly. He looked at her, unfazed. "Magicians aren't above commoners. You know it's immoral. Magicians are corrupt, they're power hungry. Commoners are mistreated, and you know it. You aren't as tainted as the rest of them, I can feel that you aren't! As I have no more allies, I need your help! You aren't like them, Man- John! You aren't corrupt!"

His eyes flashed – a flicker of doubt, maybe? – but that passed.

"You have not convinced me."

"Please," she begged. Kitty would have never thought she would be begging John Mandrake for mercy, but here she was. She had to swallow all of her pride to do it, but it was all she had left. "You have to help me. You must!"

He shook his head. "Really, Kitty, I would have thought you had some real proposition."

"I can't believe this!" Kitty exclaimed furiously. Her voice was desperate, and she knew this was her last chance. Her plan wasn't working so far, but she couldn't lose this gamble. She had risked it all, and it needed to show for something. "I can't believe this at all! To think that I saved your life for no reason – twice! I could have left you to die, but I didn't! And this is my repayment!"

This was her metaphorical trump card, of course. She could feel that Mandrake wasn't as bad as the rest of the magicians, and she could have sworn that Bartimaeus had even mentioned it to her in passing. She had felt some regret in him when he had not delivered on his promise to her, something that Julius Tallow or any other magician would not have. John Mandrake was not corrupted, or at least not completely. He owed her his life.

The phone rang, breaking the tension. Slowly, Mandrake lowered one finger to the machine and pressed a button. "Hello?"

"Mr. Mandrake?" A man's voice erupted from the speakerphone. "This is Lieutenant Griffin from the police. We believe the convict Kathleen Jones may have sought you out. Would you let us search the perimeter?"

Mandrake paused, and Kitty knew this was the moment of truth. This was the moment when he would choose his loyalty: to the woman that had saved his life or to his employers.

He regarded her wearily for a while. After long moments of contemplation, his hand drifted to the chessboard and knocked down the two kings.

"The rules have changed," he mumbled to himself.

He straightened out of his seat and brushed his cuffs by habit. "Hold on one minute, Lieutenant. I'll check my security tapes and then get back to you. We won't want to be too conspicuous, will we?"

"Oh, of course not, Mr. Mandrake. We'll be waiting."

Mandrake looked at her one last time and it was then that she knew. He had chosen.

He was repaying his debt.

"Come," he hissed to her, as he grabbed her by the hand and dragged her up the stairs, where Bartimaeus was waiting expectantly.

"Well, that was interesting," he commented as he glanced at Kitty. "I was watching the whole thing, of course. You weren't all that silent, Kitty Jones. Mostly he's just extremely ignorant. Gets his head shoved too far up his arse, he does."

Mandrake made no indication that he had heard Bartimaeus as he opened the door to the attic, the same door Kitty had entered the flat through.

"Hurry, Bartimaeus," he said in a raspy voice. He refused to look at Kitty, however, and she wondered if he was regretting his decision as he led her to the door and opened it in a businesslike manner. Stepping out, he beckoned for she and Bartimaeus to do likewise, his eyes still focused straight ahead.

Bartimaeus closed the door behind them and was about to make a probable scathing and sarcastic comment when Mandrake stopped him.

"Which way is the river?"

Kitty tried to think but her brain must have turned to mush as she was unable to recall any facts about the city, or anything for that matter. She was too shocked that her risk had worked, or was working.

"That way," said Bartimaeus, pointing to their right.

Mandrake nodded. "And what's the largest bird you can transform into?"

There was a swirl of activity around the djinni and a large eagle reappeared in his place, looking at his master with a very pleased grin, if eagles could grin.

"Will this do?"

Mandrake didn't answer and instead jumped up onto Bartimaeus's back. The eagle squawked indignantly.

"Hey, what was that for? You may be bone-thin but you still weigh something!"

"Quiet," said Mandrake in an uncharacteristically authoritative voice, and the spirit stopped his jabbering immediately, something Kitty had never witnessed. He motioned to Kitty. "Get on."

She obliged and pulled herself in front of him with some effort, as Bartimaeus was now standing upright and the magician was taking up a good amount of room. He scooted backwards to allow her more space.

"Better?"

Kitty nodded. "Yes."

Her head was still swimming when Mandrake ordered Bartimaeus to fly off towards the Thames, as high and out of sight as he could. The police lights soon disappeared as the clouds became their cover, soaking them with their moisture and chilling Kitty to the bone. More disconcerting, however, were the arms wrapped tentatively around her, those of Mandrake, someone she still regarded as an enemy. The arms were only there so he didn't fall off, she knew, but the whole situation was still a blur to her.

"Higher," stated Mandrake as sirens wailed below them. "They're following us. We must still be visible"

"Well, I can't really get much higher without killing you," snapped Bartimaeus.

"Right. I guess we'll have to go with my back-up plan, then."

Bartimaeus snorted. "Sounds lovely."

"Fly to the Thames," said Mandrake firmly. His arms tightened around Kitty as they passed through one particularly thick cloud group. "We can lose them there."

"Right-o."

They began dropping slightly and now the cops megaphone-enhanced voices could be heard beneath them.

"Demon, please release your captives from custody!" yelled someone – Lieutenant Griffin, if Kitty remembered correctly. Bartimaeus laughed.

"Did you hear that? Now they think I've taken you both prisoner!"

They were completely out of the clouds now, and far too close to the police for comfort, although still a fairly large distance ahead of them. The river was near, and Mandrake's head jutted forward uneasily as he peered out in front of them.

"Land there," he commanded, pointing at a large marina building hanging over the edge of the water.

"Got it."

The eagle's wings gradually stopped flapping altogether until they were purely gliding. With some degree of difficulty, Bartimaeus steered them to the marina and they landed on the building bumpily, the sirens still some distance behind. Mandrake got off first, followed closely by Kitty, and Bartimaeus shivered.

"A bit cold, perhaps?" he said dryly.

"Change forms," stated Mandrake hurriedly. He glanced at the river meaningfully. "Something more suitable."

Bartimaeus nodded. "Right" The eagle disappeared to be replaced by a stone creature – a gargoyle. "This fit your job description?"

"It'll do." Mandrake grabbed Kitty's wrist and dragged her to the edge of the building before turning to her and grabbing her around the waist tightly. "A Shield, please."

The djinni nodded once more and something buzzed around the three of them. Kitty couldn't see it, but she could feel it was there.

"If I may ask… why?" Bartiamaeus's eyes drifted to the river. "Oh. I guess that works."

Mandrake nodded before facing Kitty once more. His eyes were burning now, burning with fiery determination like Kitty had never seen from him. For the first time, the monotonous John Mandrake looked alive.

"Do you trust me?"

Kitty did a double-take. "What?"

"Do you trust me?" he repeated.

She glanced to the river to the gargoyle to the looming police cars to Mandrake once more, fire still raging, before nodding.

"Yes, I suppose."

"Good. Bartimaeus, get ready," he said, drawing Kitty closer.

The spirit gave him a thumbs-up sign. "Ready when you are."

"Okay." Mandrake let out a deep breath and tucked his head next to Kitty's. He was shaking. "On the count of three, then."

"One…"

The waves crashed against the shore furiously.

"Two…"

The sirens were only meters away.

"Three."

Mandrake leaned over the edge of the roof and took Kitty and Bartimaeus off with him into the rampaging depths of the Thames, where the icy depths consumed them like fire consuming oxygen.

To Be Continued

Author's Notes: I like this chapter a lot because it's one I've been building up to for quite a while. All of the fights between the Resistance have been leading up to this one point in the story, and now everything else leads to the conclusion of it all. It won't be much longer before we're done, and this was an important step in the process. This is only from Kitty's perspective, though, and as you'll see in Chapter 16, Nathaniel's point of view during this explains a lot and is very important.

Next Chapter: In We've Got A Hostage Situation, the three are out of the river and in the middle of what seems like nowhere. Tension is high, and so is curiousity, as Bartimaeus wants to know why Nathaniel chose Kitty over the government. The three most different beings must become a team, and they also must discover that sometimes the best laid plans are those that are spontaneous.