This chapter is very late. Very, very late. "Ptolemy's Gate" has already come out; I've already read it. I'm very sorry.

Very sorry.

It was Murphy's Law: anything that could go wrong went wrong. I had writer's block. I wasn't able to get to my computer for a while. Et cetera, et cetera. And now this is technically AU since Book 3 is out in the UK.

But I just want you all to know that besides the use of the title "Ptolemy's Gate", this has not been influenced by Book 3. I was almost done with the next chapter when the book came out. I loved the book, but that's another subject. And to clear things up for some of you, the bit in this chapter about Disraeli was not taken from Book 3. I found that during research of William Gladstone.

Disclaimer: I do not, in any shape or form, own the Bartimaeus Trilogy.

Chapter Twenty
The Doctor Will See You Now

"But time is on your side,
It's on your side now:
Not pushing you down and all around –
It's no cause for concern."
-Coldplay's "Amsterdam"

Katherine knew that they were in trouble when the door had disappeared, and holes had formed in the walls surrounding them.

But she still began to go through Kitty's patented Mental Checklist To See If You're In Trouble, of course.

Unfamiliar setting? Check.

Odd event? Check.

Scary voices? Check.

Demons? Check.

Well, if they would've had a mysterious magician overlord and/or magical creature, then it would've been a good, old-fashioned party.

"Shit, is that an afrit?" Thomas said to her side.

"Nah," replied Yasmin, "looks more like a djinni."

Elliot nodded. "From the magic levels, it's definitely a djinni."

Sometimes Katherine wished that she could see like they did. All she saw was resilience. But then again, Kitty didn't see anything, and she got along well enough.

Kitty was special, though. At least that was what everyone always said. And Katherine had never seen a reason to disagree with everyone. Kitty was special.

"You may gain access to the next room," hissed a snake-like demon in front of them.

"Oh, really?" said Morris hopefully. "That's wonderful! So, just step aside then –"

"No, foolish human!" the snake growled irritably. "Did you not hear my master? You shall have to pass a test first!"

Morris nodded in realization. "Oh, yes. That. Well, you see, I'm not so good with the battling, so maybe a science test? Or a math test? Or maybe even a game of chess?"

"Wits are important," said the snake vaguely. "But they are only one of three components that you shall be tested on."

"Damn it, would you stop speaking in riddles and rhetoric?" Elliot snapped. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

The snake looked at him, unperturbed. "I see you are lacking in the wits department, mud filth. But there must be one of you that can guess the three components."

"Wits and strength," said Jack simply. "And…"

"And guts," Glen finished.

"Spoken in a vulgar tongue, but doubtlessly correct." The demon looked at them distastefully.

Morris scratched the back of his head. "So you're going to test us three times on three different subjects?"

"You shall not be tested thrice, but once."

"Er… how exactly will that work out?"

"A battle," the snake said, as if the answer were so obvious the question had not been worth asking. "To win a battle, your proficiency at the three components must be greater than that of your opponents."

"Ah. I see." Morris rolled up his sleeves with a long, melodramatic sigh. "I must warn you that I was fibbing when I said I was not good at fighting. I am extremely – er, what's the word? – proficient in… martial arts and stuff like that. This can only end in your demise."

The snake blinked. No one moved.

"Come on," Morris jeered tentatively. "Hit me with your best shot!"

The demon began to move towards him rapidly, and he in turn backed towards the wall.

"Oh, actually, why don't you start with Elliot? I never really did like him, anyway."

"You have challenged me, Hyatt, the scourge of the sixth sea!" roared the snake. "You cannot back away!"

Morris's face fell. "I can't? See, when I challenged you, I didn't know that. Let's settle this over a nice cup of Earl Grey, all right? I'm sure we're not all that different –"

"NO!" Hyatt reared backwards, reaching his full height. "You will die, mortal, and so shall your companions! You are not worthy to pass this test!"

"Well, damn, I thought I was worthy enough," said the technician feebly. "If I'm going to die anyway, may I ask exactly which sea is the sixth sea? Just as a reference."

Hyatt cackled. "Oh, you have nerve, magician. And for that reason you shall be the first to die."

The snake moved forwards as if to strike, but Morris had reached into his coat and in the blink of an eye a sphere was in his hand. "You see, I would rather die at a later time. Nice try, though!"

The Elemental Sphere crashed into Hyatt, sending it flying backwards. It did not seem to be injured grievously, but merely stunned, and by the time Katherine looked back Morris had disappeared.

"You shall pay!" cried Hyatt furiously.

"Ay, not from you," Glen said, a gun now in his hands. "I'll get him for you after this is all done, though."

The demon looked as if it would reply before a bullet pierced its head. It fell to the ground lifelessly, and Glen smirked.

"Silver bullets. Dead useful."

"That's nice," Katherine replied, "but I think we have bigger problems."

The other demons were now circling around them. They outnumbered the group, but if Glen could shoot down more of them with his rifle, then they had a chance. And besides Ffoukes and the absent Morris, the entire group had some sort of resilience.

"What d'you think?" called out Yasmin. "Katherine, Thomas and I could take this side, and another few could take that corner –"

"I think that we're better off just hitting anything that comes near us," Thomas responded darkly.

"Right. Good plan."

Before anyone could speak further, an imp in the guise of a horned toad had launched itself at Katherine; she dodged to the left, and it grabbed in futile at her hood. As it regained its position, she retrieved three throwing knives from her pockets. All silver, of course. Three flicks later, the toad was moaning in pain. Two had hit their target – its arms were now pinned to the ground.

"Finish it off!" Joel called out. "If we're going to pass this 'test', then we're probably going to have to defeat our opponent."

Katherine tilted her head to the toad. "Fine."

Another flick of her hand, and a knife lay embedded in the toad's head.

"I hope you're not too caught up in yourself," came a voice from somewhere above her. "Evelyn always was a fool. Too much of a gambler."

She looked up, but it was too late. Something had hit her hard in the head, and she spiraled to the ground helplessly.

"The number one rule of battle: be aware of your surroundings." Katherine looked up, only to see what looked like a suit of armor. "The number two rule: position is everything."

Before she could get to her feet the suit was running at her, and she could only roll to the side as it stuck its tremendous rapier into the stone. As soon as she had gained her footing, the suit was all ready swinging the sword again, and she ducked – a few wisps of her hair were cut off by the blade.

Kitty's voice was ringing in her head: evaluate the situation. Check for strengths. Check for weaknesses.

The situation was that she was ducked, facing her enemy's torso, which was made entirely of metal. It definitely appeared to be strong, and intelligent, and its sword was caught in a powerful backswing – wait.

The weight and strength of the swing was its weakness. She had her opening, its defensive lapse.

Not wasting any time, she retrieved a larger silver knife from her boot, and with all of her strength heaved it into the demon.

Surprisingly, it pierced the armor with little resistance. The sword was dropped, and the suit keeled over. She didn't hesitate at all, and as quickly as she had stabbed it the first time, she had recalled her knife and sliced the demon in the head.

It too fell, dead. She allowed herself a small smile before looking for her next opponent.

The battle was waging in all areas of the room. Glen and Jack were back to back, fighting off a tight circle of demons. Jack would attack the ones that came too close with one of his many weapons, while Glen would pick them off carefully with his rifle. They were quite a team.

Others were having varied levels of success. Joel, Thomas, and Yasmin were working in tandem, and Ffoukes was helping Elliot along with his foliot. The demons were beginning to dwindle… could they actually win?

"MOVE!"

A large creature with armored skin and a great horn protruding from its tail made its way to the center of the room. Its footsteps rattled the ground around it, and Katherine could feel the vibrations shaking her bones.

"YOU WILL NOT WIN!" roared the demon furiously.

"Katherine, Thomas!" Glen bellowed. "Hold it off while we take care of the others!"

Katherine nodded, and drew three more throwing knives with her free hand. "Got it."

The demon regarded Thomas and her as mere annoyances, and whenever they got too close, it would lazily try to swat them away. Its real attention was on Glen and the others, but whenever it began to get too involved in the real battle, one of the two would distract it with a throwing knife.

"Out of my way!" growled the demon, and the two retreated, but not so far that they couldn't keep it at bay a bit longer.

"Glen!" screamed Katherine. "Hurry up!"

"Almost done!" A shot rang out across the room. "There! Now all we've got is the big fellow!"

"You will not bring down Yachodam!" the demon roared.

"Oh, we'll see about that!"

A shot hit the beast in between the eyes. "Damn you, mortal!"

A thick ball of fire burst from Yachodam's hands towards Glen, and he just barely got out of the way. The stone on which he had stood was now scorched black, and Yachodam appeared more agitated than ever.

"You will not hurt Yachodam!"

Another blast of fire shot towards the Scot, and with Jack's help he avoided it. But he did not totally escape: the side of his trousers was now burned, and he had a slight limp.

"Damn it, will someone do something!" cried Glen angrily.

Ffoukes's demon rose rapidly towards Yachodam, and bursts of light hit the demon's armor. More than anything, it seemed to wear down the great spirit more than actually hurt it, and it swatted Aevod away as if it was nothing with one hand.

"Is that all?" Yachodam implored dangerously as he began to move forward, positioning himself over Katherine and Thomas. "IS THAT ALL?"

"Not quite!" came a voice from above.

Before Yachodam could look up, someone had landed on his neck gracelessly. Morris, waving a mighty sword that appeared too heavy for his lean frame, was now hanging onto the demon.

"The number one rule of battle: be aware of your surroundings!" said the teen in a cheerful voice. "And this silver beauty, my friends, was used by Gladstone himself in a duel with Benjamin Disraeli –"

"Get on with it, Morris!" Thomas yelled frantically. Yachodam was beginning to raise his head.

Morris's expression soured. "Oh, all right."

With ridiculous flopping of his arms, Morris brought the blade down onto the demon's neck, and it cried out in anguish before crashing down to the ground. He jumped off at the last second, and came tumbling over to the side.

"Well," he said with an odd expression on his face, "that was fun."

-

Spirits were more numerous than Kitty had realized. The two she'd defeated were just the tip of the iceberg. But there was one she wanted to destroy now: the vulture.

"Defy me, eh?" the spirit laughed. "I am Induil the Wise, the predator of all, and you are my prey!"

"Haven't seen many djinn talk like that in a while," Bartimaeus commented quietly, having just defeated the two foliots he'd been fighting. "He must have spent some time around here during the Middle Ages."

But before he could continue his insight onto the vulture, Induil had dove at her. She leapt out of the way and it hit the ground with a crash, but it recovered quickly. A blue beam shot out from its mouth, but Bartimaeus blocked that with little effort. Induil cried out angrily and rose into the air once more.

"What's he doing?" Kitty asked hurriedly.

Bartimaeus observed their enemy warily as it circled above them. "Probably planning its next move. But I think we're going to have to disrupt its plans if we're going to win this without losing a limb or two."

The lion's tail whipped around, and a thick black ball hurtled towards Induil – the spirit was just barely able to maneuver itself out of the way as the ball exploded, but at the very least it appeared rattled.

"Wasn't really hoping to hit with that Detonation," Bartimaeus sighed. "At least it bought us a little time."

Induil was circling faster and faster now; Bartimaeus started to say something before a chuckle behind him interrupted them.

"Still alive and well, I see. This will be our final fight, demon."

A man in a black tuxedo was standing behind him. Thick boots covered his feet and shins.

"Oh, hello Mr. Mercenary," said Bartimaeus. His voice was bitter. "I agree with that last part. This time I'm just going to get it over with quickly."

"So you say." The man threw Kitty a lazy look. "But I digress. I am more interested in killing you at the moment than I am in her, and Induil seems like it should be able to take care of such a runt. Shall we take this elsewhere?"

Bartimaeus bowed slightly. "Of course."

Before Kitty could protest, the two had already vanished, and were dueling somewhere across the room. But that was just the least of her problems: Induil was circling faster, and faster, and faster…

"Die, mortal!" shrieked the spirit. "Die!"

It began a tremendous nosedive again, albeit this time the very air around it seemed to be crackling. Kitty thought fast – it didn't seem she would have time to get out of the way, and even if she did she would still probably be hit. This attack was far more powerful than the last.

So Kitty did the only rational thing that came to mind.

She jumped.

It called for some tricky timing, but with a good deal of luck she was able to hook her arms around the bird's neck. It squawked, and she felt her muscles burn as she struggled to hold on. It had pulled out of its dive and was now flying around frantically.

"Burns!" it squealed. "It burns! Horrible, nasty, filthy human!"

Kitty would have very much liked to tell Induil that she was hurting, too, but she knew if she could just hold on that maybe she would have a chance.

"Off, filth!" Induil flung to and fro, sending beams of light in every direction. "Off!"

But Kitty would not let go. She could feel its feathers begin to singe at her touch. It was working.

"Off!" it repeated. "Off!"

Kitty had no intention of getting off, however, and it realized this. It's flinging became even more frantic, until she began to feel queasy.

And just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. There was a pop and Induil had burst, sending Kitty flying across the room.

She landed on her back on something hard and cold: stone. Compared to the pain of the impact, the burn in her muscles was now nothing. Every part of her back ached, and she struggled to stand up.

"Ah, Ms. Jones. You are a persistent one, aren't you?"

Makepeace was leaning against the railing casually, looking at her with a small degree of interest.

"Yes," Kitty said coldly. "It's one of my better qualities."

"That and your uncanny knack for surviving." Makepeace coughed. "But we have some time before my Archway is activated. Would you like to have a chat? I'm dreadfully bored."

Kitty blinked. "Ptolemy's Gate."

"What?"

"Ptolemy's Gate," said Kitty. "It's what Bartimaeus called the Archway."

"Oh." Makepeace shrugged. "I suppose there are a few names for it."

She said nothing.

"I'm surprised, actually," stated the magician. "You haven't attacked me yet."

"I want to hear it all explained."

"Very well, then," Makepeace said happily. He pushed back the cloak slightly so that she could see a pistol. "And do not try to attack me with your fists or knives. You are not magic so my useful little artifacts would not help me, but I have a few protective spells and weapons of my own. You would be dead within seconds."

Kitty nodded. "Fine. But tell me everything."

Sighing, the playwright ran his hands through his hair. "If I seem repetitive, I apologize profusely. I do not know how much you are aware of, so I will be somewhat meticulous."

"Go ahead. I'm not stopping you."

"Well, it all started around five years ago," said Makepeace. "I had long been yearning for more power, but I was distasteful of the magician society. I wanted to start over, do thing my way. I had stopped practicing magic much and instead focused on my writing, occasionally summoning demons for inspiration or amusement. I am very proficient in my summonings and enchantments, obviously, but I do not do them very often unless I have good reason. And I found my good reason by chance when researching material for my next play in the outskirts of an Egyptian village."

"The townsfolk spoke of an ancient legend when I asked them for stories and such. According to the legend, the rulers of Egypt in around 100 BC had created an Archway, a weapon to use against enemies in war. The stories varied: some were so crazy and fantastic that I will not waste your time with them, but in several stories an Egyptian boy of an Assyrian father was mentioned. I was intrigued, of course. Could this be my tool to gain power?"

Makepeace sighed, and explosions could be heard in the background. "In the following year, I supported a young magician named Simon Lovelace in his unsuccessful coup d'etat. It was an ingenious plan, and I helped in various parts of it, but Lovelace's failure due to the intervention of Nathaniel and Bartimaeus in no way ruined my plans. He was just a sideshow, really, although the Amulet of Samarkand he used in his plans I discovered to be most essential, as I had presumed. I did not try to steal it from the vaults of the government, for I deemed it safe there, and after all, I would not need it for quite a while. The Amulet protects its user from any kind of magical attack, so you can see its worth to my plan."

"Yes," said Kitty quietly.

"You're a smart girl." Makepeace leaned further against the railing. "But after Lovelace's failure, I focused on this Archway once more. After much studying, I discovered that it was a weapon: it was some sort of summoning device that would cause demons to attack and destroy everything in sight. Yet that very next year I partook in another coup, except this one was much more important for various reasons. Two items I desired were involved: the Staff and the Cloak of State. I very much wanted the Staff, for I suspected that it could destroy my Archway, and the Cloak of State would just be very handy to have in my possession."

He shook his head. "But alas, that coup too failed, again thanks to your friend Nathaniel and yourself. But my goal was reached, albeit in a different way: the Staff was locked away in Gladstone's secret vaults, and thus the danger to my plans was averted. The Cloak was retrieved by your old friend, and I killed him after I received it, for I could not use too many loose ends."

"But Hopkins," Kitty stated loudly. "What does he have to do with all of this?"

"Oh yes, Hopkins. I met him before he joined Pennyfeather. A very greedy young lad, he was, but very useful. I needed someone to supply the Resistance with information, to guide them in the path I had chosen, and also to help me in my research. I felt that I should meet you with the details of the items I desired personally, to avoid suspicion. I knew, of course, that Honorius the afrit resided in Gladstone's tomb, and I really did not want to deal with him, but I felt that at the very least you would do some damage to him, or at least draw him out, as you did. The Resistance was growing too impatient and eager for my tastes, so I had to get rid of all of you somehow. Gladstone's tomb was just very convenient."

"You're a bastard." Kitty clenched her fists. How could anyone be so sick?

"I thought it might distress you," said Makepeace mystically, reminding her of Hopkins. "But before you attack me, as you are so close to doing, there is more to explain. And do not worry, there is not much time left before you meet your end. We have spent quite some time going over this."

He breathed out eagerly, and tapped his fingers against the stone. "I learned of the function of these two floors during my quest for the Archway of Anubis, or Ptolemy's Gate. The sixth floor contains several of Gladstone's more important possessions, like a museum. Gladstone took the Cloak and Staff to his grave only because he was very protective of them, but the Staff is quite safe there now – the British government had to move it here recently according to Gladstone's provisions. I made sure of that. If you had been paying attention in the room prior to this one, then you would've noticed that there were a few displays on the walls. I believe one showed the sword used by Gladstone against Disraeli, and there were a few others of lesser consequence."

"And this floor?"

"This was the floor where Gladstone did his summoning, and work," replied Makepeace. "Its theater-like interior makes it ideal for summoning, and the sunlight from this window is helpful with specialized pentacles and such. It's a one-way window, and on the outside is nothing more than a stone wall, but still serves its purpose. So you can see why I chose this room to set up the Archway. It's just very… convenient."

"But the Archway," Kitty continued. "What about it?"

"Yes, that." Makepeace grinned. "There is a library in a government building – I'll not specify which, just in case I feel the need to use it – that is filled with magic and preservatives. The texts are ancient, and often very useful, and I've used this library three times before. Once, to study the Amulet of Samarkand, once to study Gladstone, and once to study the Archway. I had to steal the books all three times, and they were very helpful. The Archway book was very difficult to find, and the title of it was only known by a few. I was able to track down one of those few and then steal the book."

He paused to catch his breath. "The Archway of Anubis was made by the rulers of Egypt by sacrificing many powerful demons to create a structure that could potentially destroy an entire civilization. A human would need to be sacrificed to unite the entities inside the Archway – thus, the two worlds would be connected. It was tricky magic, and inside the Archway there are thick jewel veins, which actually contain the entities, and they all meet in the ruby at the top. This strong magic makes it almost indestructible, and using it can be catastrophic."

"Why didn't they use it?"

"Why?" Makepeace laughed. "They realized what it would do! They tested it on Atlantis, for Atlantis was an enemy of Egypt at that point and was secluded from the rest of the world. Not many knew of Atlantis's existence; the magician Plato had talked of it almost two hundred years before but supposedly it had vanished almost nine thousand years before his time! It was a myth to most, but the most powerful men in the world knew of it and its great armies and advanced technology. Egypt considered it a threat, and so the Archway was tested on Atlantis."

Kitty bit her lip. "What happened?"

"The demons went out of control, destroying anything and everything. The rulers realized what they had done."

"Which was?"

"They had created the ultimate weapon for the destruction of the Earth." Makepeace smiled wryly. "The Archway tears demons from the Other Place violently, and they destroy anything in their path. That is why it is so dangerous, and why I have sought it for so long. It is the greatest weapon the world has ever seen. That ruby is the greatest jewel the world has ever seen. And I discovered where it was, how to use it, and how to steal it."

"You… we'll stop you!" Kitty exclaimed hopelessly, knowing that Makepeace seemed quite invincible. He only shook his head.

"No, Ms. Jones, you can't. I'm unstoppable now."

-

Morris didn't even hear Katherine sigh resignedly at him. Instead, he was focused on the far wall, the same wall that Nathaniel had walked through.

A hole had appeared in the wall. Two doors were now visible, opened wide.

"It's opened," he said hoarsely. "The door."

Heads whipped around all across the room at his words, and several cries of surprise could be heard throughout the area.

"We won?" Ffoukes squeaked doubtfully, twisting his hands nervously. "How? Isn't there another monster to fight? No invisible demon with blades of fire? No golem?"

Glen observed the group thoughtfully. "No. Not yet."

Ffoukes made a sound that Morris did not recognize; it was somewhere between a squeal and a whimper.

"Come on, then!" Thomas commanded. "What're we waiting for? There's work to be done!"

"Yes!" Elliot jumped out and flailed his arms mockingly. "Let's go, guys! Off we go to die!"

Jack looked at him darkly, arms crossed over his chest. "I'd rather die a fighter than live a coward."

"Oh, Jack, that's so virtuous." Elliot acted as if swooning. "I'll make sure to leave a few flowers by your grave."

"Whatever," Morris said exasperatedly, throwing up his hands and stalking off toward the hole. "If I'm going to die, I want it to be nice and quick. And I definitely don't want my last memory to be of some lunatics quarreling!"

He reached the door before spinning around on his heel and glaring at the group.

"Are you guys coming or what?"

There was a murmuring of approval, and all of them, even Elliot and Ffoukes, began to come after him. He didn't wait for them, and instead went right through the entrance, leaving the others to follow in his wake.

His first impression of the next room was that it looked oddly like an auditorium: very spacious and large. Sounds bounced off the walls spectacularly, and every few seconds a pillar of flame would burst into his view. On second thought, he decided he probably shouldn't have gone in first. Battle wasn't his thing.

The cold hilt of the sword in his hand – the very sword that William Gladstone himself had used, no less – comforted him. Its mere presence was enough to dissemble his worries, for if this sword had been good enough for the most powerful ruler that Britain had ever known, then it was definitely good enough for Morris Fischer, CSI-in-training. He didn't particularly agree with what Gladstone had represented, but there was a great level of respect. Everyone respected Gladstone in a way. Everyone feared him, even though he was dead. It was the natural order of things.

A beam coming over his right shoulder and crashing into the wall to his side reminded him that it probably wasn't the best time to reflect on politics.

And so he charged, rapier flying in all directions, into the fray of battle. He had no real target, and instead took a wild jab at anything in sight, or out of sight for that matter. Morris thought he might've even nicked the side of a spirit a few times or two, although it may have just been a wall. The confidence the sword gave him was very encouraging, but as he almost lost his footing during an awkward backswing, he realized that just charging in blindly and attacking anything and everything was not the best course of action. He could almost hear Nathaniel's voice in his head: step back and analyze the situation.

Morris, for what might have been the first time in his life, stopped in his tracks and listened to instructions without second thoughts.

There was no shortage of spirits, that was for sure. It was pure chaos: his allies had now run headfirst into the thick of it and were now fighting furiously. A lion – Bartimaeus – was fighting a man who appeared to be extremely fast. A vulture was squawking above them, and someone was hanging onto it desperately: Kitty.

But where was Nathaniel?

As his eyes glazed over the stone ground, he got his answer.

Rushing forward, Morris motioned for someone to come to his aid quickly. Thomas and Glen obliged, and he heard their footsteps against the floor as he knelt to the ground to examine Nathaniel's limp body. He tried to search for a pulse, but his hands were shaking far too dangerously. Could he actually be dead? Death didn't happen. At least, that's how it always seemed when he had been back in the lab.

He was hit with sudden imagery: a middle-aged man giving a class a lecture, and then a teenaged boy slowly going over procedure with his new trainee. Morris knew how to do this. He had learned it in school and Nathaniel had taught him during some of his training.

Detach yourself. Clear your mind. Pace your breathing. Don't think.

His fingers steadied, and he felt Nathaniel's neck as calmly as he could.

"Anything?" Glen's voice rang out.

Morris withdrew his hand in a professional manner.

"He's alive." Retrieving a latex glove from his breast pocket, he fit it onto his right hand neatly and pulled something that looked like a thermometer from the same pocket. He pulled Nathaniel's skin back with two gloved fingers and stuck the instrument carefully into his mouth before leveling his eyes with the markers on the side. "Grade A hit by a powerful demon. There's no telling how he survived it; even a strong Shield wouldn't help much against this. I'm guessing he had some kind of assistance."

"Kitty?" Thomas questioned.

Morris shrugged. "Unlikely. She seems to be doing fine right now, and even if she had been hit by this then she'd be in pretty bad shape."

"Kitty has a pure silver pendant," stated Glen, rubbing his chin. "Do you think he could've used it?"

"It's a possibility." Morris's matter-of-fact tone calmed not only the other two, but also himself. Like the sword now lying against his knee, it encouraged him. "For now, we can only speculate. But he's alive, although he's not in the best of conditions. He needs aid now."

Thomas ran his hand through his hair anxiously. "What're we supposed to do?"

"I… I need to think."

What could help Nathaniel now? Morris was losing his focus, he was losing his resolve: seeing his boss in such a condition was rattling him too badly.

Detach yourself.

Nathaniel would know this. Morris just needed to put himself in Nathaniel's shoes.

That was it. A Resuscitator.

"As I don't have a Resuscitator on hand –"

"A what?"

"A Resuscitator. It's a long, pipe-like thing that you point into someone's chest and it revives them instantaneously. They're pretty hard to come by, though."

It was slightly ironic that Nathaniel's exchange with Kitty and Bartimaeus would be so helpful, but oddly fitting. The question was: where could he find a Resuscitator?

"Well, another thing is the fact that there's a medical bay on every other floor. You know, the even-numbered ones."

That was it. The sixth floor.

"We've got to get to the sixth floor," Morris said instantly.

Thomas shot him a doubtful look. "Er… how?"

"I dunno. There's got to be a way from the previous room!"

He ran off again, Glen and Thomas scurrying behind him, and was thankful that the door had not yet closed. Maybe the person behind this wanted an opening to the rest of the world, a way to spread terror. Or maybe he was just preoccupied.

Whatever the answer was, Morris burst through the hole. He shot the two open doors a last look before scanning his eyes across the room. There had to be a staircase. There had to be.

"There!" announced Glen. "By that suit of armor!"

Off they dashed once more to the direction the Scot had been pointing. Morris threw himself into the tunnel-like staircase and descending it rapidly, two steps at a time. It was much longer than he had expected it to be, and after what seemed like eternity, he was standing in a new room.

"The medical bay!" he cried. "Where is the medical bay? Nathaniel said there'd be one on the sixth floor!"

Thomas arched an eyebrow. "Nathaniel?"

"Never mind that," Glen said hurriedly, rolling his sleeves up. "Does this room look extremely white and clean to anyone else, or is it just me?"

Morris's eyes widened. Of course. "We're in the medical bay!" He leapt up into the air and danced around ridiculously as a celebration, grabbing Glen and hugging him tightly. "I could kiss you right now! But I won't, because your beard is thick and dirty, and also you're a Scot."

"Get off, you magician bastard," grunted the older man, shoving Morris away. The technician brushed off his clothes imperiously.

"Don't want to get any germs, after all. God knows what diseases you Scots have on you." He sighed. "We're looking for a long pipe thinger. Keep your eyes sharp."

The group split up around the large area and began raking meticulously through various cabinets for this "thinger". Morris had half of his body in a lower drawer when he heard Thomas yell out.

"Found it!" Morris removed his head from the drawer, only to see the teenager waving around what looked like an extended inhaler ebulliently. "At least, I think I did."

He nodded. "Yep, I think that's it."

"Speaking of findings," Glen called out loudly, "I think I may have found something you all might want to have a look at."

The two hurried over to him, and their jaws dropped instantly at the sight. In front of them lay an extensive museum: items of all shapes and sizes were neatly displayed and catalogued all over the room.

"A shrine to Gladstone," muttered Morris in awe as he rubbed his eyes nervously. "Cocky little bugger, he was."

"Hey, look, it's a staff!" Thomas exclaimed. His finger was jabbing at a display right in front of the group. "Isn't that important or something?"

Morris's eyes widened. "The Staff!" He rushed forward, stopping right in front of the display. "This – this weapon was used to destroy the most powerful empire in the world! It's borderline sacred!"

"Take it," growled Glen simply. "We could use all the help we can get."

The technician chuckled with anxiety as he cracked his knuckles. "Oh, no, not me. I couldn't activate something of this power. I'm horrible with spells. I've got a tiny little imp at my command, but I think something may have destroyed him. Maybe he got run over by a car."

"Come on," Thomas urged him on, the image reminding him of his school days. "Take it! If you can't use it, then Mandrake can."

Morris gave the Staff one last glance before closing his eyes and grabbing it quickly. His eyes still shut, he thrust it at them. "Take it! I don't even want to be near it!"

"No." Glen coughed. "You forgot your sword upstairs, anyway. Until we revive your friend you're going to need to hold onto it for protection."

Morris opened his eyes cautiously and looked at the Staff as if it would burn him if it made contact with the pupils. It looked rather ordinary, but even he could feel the raw power pulsating from it. The sword was nothing compared to it, although he thought he much preferred something simpler, less terrifying.

"All right," he agreed. "Let's go."

The members of the Resistance nodded and the odd trio began their short trek back to the battle site. The stairs presented no challenge, and neither did the following entrance hall-like room, but it was a race against time – or maybe time was their ally. If they could just hold out for long enough, then surely their opportunity would come.

They burst into the auditorium room and hurried to where Nathaniel lay. Morris placed the Staff gently onto the ground, and Thomas handed him the Resuscitator, which he merely looked at doubtfully.

"What're you doing?" questioned the younger boy. "Use it!"

"I'm supposed to point it at his chest. I'm thinking."

Thomas tapped his foot on the ground impatiently. "Here, just give it to me. I'll do it!"

"No, a command word has to be spoken," said Morris dully. He looked at the side of the instrument and grinned. "Of course. It's on the side in Sumerian."

He said a word that rolled delicately off his tongue, careful to point the instrument at Nathaniel's chest, and waited.

Bulbs of energy emerged from the tip of the Resuscitator and landed on Nathaniel's body. A sheet of light began to cover him, and in a few seconds, he gave a violent spasm before shooting upward instantly.

"Kitty!" he gasped.

Morris blinked. "Not quite. Morris, actually."

"Kitty!" repeated Nathaniel, clutching his chest painfully. "Where's Kitty?"

"No idea. Last I saw of her, she was hanging onto some vulture."

"Vulture!" Nathaniel lurched forward dangerously, but Morris held him back with his hand.

"Steady there, tiger," he said calmly. "Don't have a heart attack on me. I'm shoddy with healing magic, and will probably end up giving you a seizure if I have to heal you on my own."

Someone tapped his shoulder from behind, and Morris turned. It was Glen. "I think Kitty's up there, on that platform. Someone else is up there, but I can't see their face very well."

"Makepeace!" Nathaniel groaned.

"Makepeace?" Morris said doubtfully. "The playwright? That geek's the psycho behind all of this? Are you serious?"

Nathaniel ignored him. "Resuscitator?" he asked, gesturing towards the instrument. He seemed to be calming down finally, which was definitely a good thing.

"Yes. For once, I listened!" It was a light stab at humor, and Nathaniel smiled, much to Morris's relief. "Helped in the end, I think. Though don't you go telling anyone! I've got a reputation to think about."

"Sure." Nathaniel scratched the back of his head and sighed. "What're we to do now? I don't have Kitty's pendant anymore, and I haven't a clue where Bartimaeus is. I have no protection."

"That's a problem."

Nathaniel eyed the sword that was resting against his leg. "Can I borrow that?" He looked at it again. "Is that the sword that Gladstone –"

"Yes," replied Morris. "But I don't think you want that. I'll stick with that."

"But I need something!"

Morris grinned, and grabbed the Staff from behind him with one hand. He rested it on one knee, as if to present it to his fellow magician.

"Don't worry. I've got a much better toy for you to play with."

-

The last time the mercenary and I had met, neither of us had escaped unscathed. Well, I suppose he could have, as I didn't really stick around to check, but I'd say it was about even.

Of course, then I'd had help, even from such a wimp as Nathaniel. This time, I was alone.

No problem. I'm Bartimaeus, after all.

But there was a problem with that, apparently.

This guy was just as powerful as I was.

"You got away last time," he said, his fingers jiggling at his hip anxiously. "I do not think that you will do the same this time around."

"Ah, you were the lucky one last time." I whipped my tail into the air lazily. "I was just holding back. Didn't want to distress the kid, you see. That would've been unprofessional."

"Of course." In less than a second, he had drawn two silver discs and was now twirling them nonchalantly in his hands. "I must beg of you not to hold back anymore. I would not want to defeat someone who wasn't even trying."

"Alright. No holding back? Got it."

He smirked. "Good. Let it begin."

The two discs came hurling at me at amazing speeds, and I crouched low to avoid them. He didn't stop, though, and I had to jump high into the air to dodge the next batch. Several more zipped at me as I fell to the ground, and I twisted my body in the most awkward position to try to get out of their way, although one cut right through the hair on the end of my tail.

"Not bad," commented the mercenary. "But it is inconsequential. You won't last long."

Another silver disc flew at me, but I was already gone: where the lion had once stood, a snake was now slithering towards the mercenary. It wrapped around him, and he growled.

"Off!" I would not let go, even though his resilience burned me, too. With luck, I would outlast him and kill him before he could kill me.

He let out a primal roar of rage and threw his head at my scales. His teeth dug into my essence, and I let out a gasp of pain and loosened my hold around him, allowing the mercenary to escape.

"Silver teeth?" I moaned. "Are you kidding me?"

He smiled a metallic smile and drew a blade from his hip. Moving towards me slowly, he made a move as if to swing at me, but I changed into a mouse and the blade barely missed my tail.

As I scurried away and out of sight, I heard him yell after me. "Come back and fight, coward!"

You see, I was disinclined to do such at that point in time. I had no clue how I was going to approach an enemy that was resilient to me in every way, and such a fast one as well. I hid behind a stone pedestal, and no matter how he screamed, I did not come out.

It was a tricky situation, no doubt about it. As he groaned and hollered, I thought deeply, but nothing came to me. It seemed more and more hopeless by the second, and my essence was aching terribly. I did not know how I could possibly win, and it all was very discouraging. To think that a mere human would defeat me, Bartimaeus, was embarrassing. I hated my luck.

A few minutes after I went into hiding, I noticed a strange absence of noise from my adversary. As I said, he had been making quite a racket in his search for me, but now everything was eerily silent. Bells went off in my head, for silence was never a good thing.

I realized this one second too late, and before I could react a large explosion occurred to the right of me. With a squeal of panic (courageous panic, mind you), I rushed from my hiding spot, only to have to stop in my tracks as a projectile soared by me. I looked towards the mercenary to see what was causing this, only to see that he had what looked like a bazooka, but lighter: a modern Detonation stick.

It was all very clear to me now. He could not see me, so he was just going to shoot blindly and hope that he hit me. It wasn't a half-bad plan, but it did have one weakness: if I could just reach him, then the Detonation stick would be useless, and his advantage would be eliminated.

So I began crawling towards him, rolling out of the way of Detonations as I went. He had begun yelling again at this point to go along with the whole death and destruction theme.

I hesitated for a moment, and a Detonation hit me straight on.

The mouse was sent flying, and it crashed into the wall with great force. The mercenary laughed triumphantly and rushed towards it, Detonation stick dropped behind him.

I got up slowly, and although my mind was reeling from the blow, it was still working. I knew my present form wasn't quick enough to combat this monster of a man; I reverted once more to the form of a serpent. Before I had even gathered myself, I rushed at him and whipped him with the end of my massive body. He was thrown to the ground, but he regained his footing with speed thanks to his blasted seven-league boots.

As I slithered around him, dodging his projectiles, a thought came to me. It was a risky plan, and might not work at all, but I had to try.

He flung another disc at me, which I easily avoided, and his miscue allowed me a valuable window of opportunity. I thrashed at him once more, and he fell to the ground. I knew he would stand quickly, so it was imperative that I make the best of the opening.

Naturally, the mercenary had used his hand to both brace his fall and help himself stand. I lunged at the hand and sunk my fangs into it – he shrieked with pain, and I grimaced, too. Human flesh did not taste good, and flesh of a resilient human hurt me and tasted horribly. I made sure my fangs were lodged firmly into the stone before I yanked back as hard as I could.

It hurt quite a bit, and I imagine I was in just as much pain as he was. I had ripped my two fangs out of my mouth with that tug, and although it injured me, he was now pinned to the ground by my newly dislodged pearly whites.

In my pain and triumph, I turned my back on him for one second, but that was all the time he needed. Before I could even move, a silver disk caught me right on the edge of my body. I bit back (well, not literally) a scream and turned to him again.

He was grimacing yet sneering at the same time, a feat I commend him on most profusely. "Had enough, demon? We are both injured. Surely you will give up now."

"No," I said. One last, desperate plan had come into my head, and I began banging the edge of my form onto the stone. The disc pushed further into my body, and severed even more flesh. "Not yet."

"That's a shame," he replied, almost sincerely. "It seems I will have to finish you off after all."

I banged the disc on the floor again, and it tore more of my body apart. Not much kept it lodged in me now. "You're confident, aren't you?"

"Not overly so. I have earned my confidence." He withdrew another of those vile circles of silver from his clothes, and I thrust my disc into the ground again. "Now, it is time for you to die!"

He threw his weapon at me, and I moved out of the way hurriedly. It sliced through the edge of my essence, but it was not a major injury. Before he could attack me again, I swung the back end of my body around, and the disc that had been lodged in my flesh dislodged from its position within me and hurled towards him. It was one of my better ideas, looking back: I had made the incision deeper so as to make it easier to throw the damned thing.

It flew at him, and he tried to move out of the way, but my fangs held him in place. He hadn't a chance.

I looked away as the inevitable occurred, and all I heard was a slick swish and a thud as a body hit the ground. I grimaced, and became a lion once more.

Exhausted, I collapsed on the ground. I had won.

Yet I had only won the battle – the war had just begun.

-

When Nathaniel first gained consciousness, it was a blurred state of awareness. His thoughts were choppy and irregular, although several concepts were predominant: Kitty and Makepeace.

He began to become more aware of his surroundings as time passed, and when Morris presented him with Gladstone's Staff of Office, he woke right up in a jiffy.

"What?" he breathed. "Are you joking?"

"No." Morris's eyes were glinting dangerously. "I'm dead serious. You can handle this thing. I can't. You might as well use it."

"I've tried to use it before, Morris!" Nathaniel exclaimed. He cradled his forehead with his hand wearily. "It backfired. I messed up."

Morris shrugged. "Practice makes perfect, right?"

"I think you can handle it," grunted Glen, his arms crossed. "From what I've heard, you're quite the magician."

"I'm glad for your vote of confidence, but I'm not sure you understand! This isn't some enchantment, or regular old spell. This is Gladstone's Staff, the most powerful weapon in all of Europe." He laughed bitterly. "Well, second-most powerful now."

Morris looked at him, bemused. "Huh?"

"Long story," he sighed. "Basically, that Archway over there is going to open up shortly and tear a ton of angry spirits from the Other Place. They're going to go on a rampage and destroy anything in sight, and Makepeace, using the Amulet of Samarkand and Cloak of State to shield himself, will demand power from the world's leaders. It's a very plebian approach at taking over the world, but it looks like it's going to work."

"Like hell it will!" Thomas piped up indignantly as he bounced on the balls of his feet with excitement. "We're going to win this fight if they keep underestimating us!"

"I hope so, but things are not looking so good at the moment." Nathaniel shook his head and looked at the Archway, a sinking feeling in his chest. They had come so far. They couldn't lose now. "I need to get to Kitty and Makepeace. If we bring down Makepeace, then maybe we can destroy the Archway. He activated it, obviously, so if we can kill him, then the activation might be cancelled out. It's technical, but with this sort of thing there's usually a strong bond between the activator and the artifact. That's why the Staff backfired on me when I misused it."

A blank look came on Morris's face. "Yeah, you lost me. But whatever, go find Makepeace. What do you want us to do?"

Nathaniel frowned. "I don't really know. I suppose that it would be best if you, Morris, went to help Bartimaeus and send him to help me against Makepeace, but Thomas and Glen, you both have some amount of resilience so I need you to fight and hold off these spirits. I know I'm asking a lot, but I fear it's the only course of action available to us anymore."

"We'll do it," Glen said instantly. Thomas nodded his approval next to him. "We were born fighters, Mr. Mandrake. If you asked us to stand back and watch, then you'd have a problem."

"Good." Nathaniel got shakily to his feet; the same leg that had bothered him after the duel with Farrar was now weak again. "I'll be going then. Wish me luck."

"Wait!" Morris thrust the Staff at him, pleading look in his eyes. "You have to take it! It's our best shot, and at least it will gain you some power over Makepeace. Everyone fears it! And I'm sure you can handle it. We believe that you can wield it, Nat."

Nathaniel stared him down intently, disregarding the remark about his name. It was a great temptation, yet a great fear of his: should he take the Staff and use it, when it could backfire again?

"Fine," he agreed, taking the weapon in both hands. Confidence filled him, and he knew that he held a better chance now than he had before. "Makepeace himself said he'd wanted it out of the picture, so there's no doubt it will be useful."

"Good," Morris sighed in relief. "Good luck, then. I'm sure you'll need it."

"Yeah." Nathaniel gave them one last glance before turning and, using the Staff as a crutch, limping towards the stairs leading up to the platform. "I'm going to need more than luck."

As he slowly ascended the stairs, a sense of serenity overtook him. If he was going to meet an end, it would surely be during this encounter, but that didn't matter anymore. His fate was in his hands now, not in Makepeace's, and that was a positive thought.

He heard voices and stopped suddenly, crouching low on the stairs.

"The Archway of Anubis," came a man's voice, "was made by the rulers of Egypt by sacrificing many powerful demons to create a structure that could potentially destroy an entire civilization. A human would need to be sacrificed to unite the entities inside the Archway – thus, the two worlds would be connected. It was tricky magic, and inside the Archway there are thick jewel veins, which actually contain the entities, and they all meet in the ruby at the top. This strong magic makes it almost indestructible, and using it can be catastrophic."

Nathaniel knew the voice: it was Makepeace. He did not reveal himself just yet, however, for he was curious about the nature of this Archway. Bartimaeus called it Ptolemy's Gate, but besides that, he did not know much, and this was insight that could help him in the end.

"Why didn't they use it?" The voice was Kitty's. He let out a breath of relief. She was okay.

"Why?" The man, Makepeace, laughed a chilling laugh, and Nathaniel shivered involuntarily. "They realized what it would do! They tested it on Atlantis, for Atlantis was an enemy of Egypt at that point and was secluded from the rest of the world. Not many knew of Atlantis's existence; the magician Plato had talked of it almost two hundred years before but supposedly it had vanished almost nine thousand years before his time! It was a myth to most, but the most powerful men in the world knew of it and its great armies and advanced technology. Egypt considered it a threat, and so the Archway was tested on Atlantis."

So that was what had happened to Atlantis. It had always been a point of interest to Nathaniel. "What happened?"

"The demons went out of control, destroying anything and everything. The rulers realized what they had done."

And that was what the Archway did.

"Which was?"

"They had created the ultimate weapon for the destruction of the Earth. The Archway tears demons from the Other Place violently, and they destroy anything in their path. That is why it is so dangerous, and why I have sought it for so long. It is the greatest weapon the world has ever seen. That ruby is the greatest jewel the world has ever seen. And I discovered where it was, how to use it, and how to steal it."

Nathaniel had heard all of this before, and it was nothing new. Makepeace was just reveling in it all now. But the jewel, that was something to think about. Could it be a weakness?

"You… we'll stop you!" Kitty exclaimed. Nathaniel could hear the hopelessness in her voice.

"No, Ms. Jones, you can't. I'm unstoppable now."

At this moment, Nathaniel stood and made his way up the final few steps. Kitty was standing helplessly, gawking in his direction, and did not know what to say. Makepeace did not even see him, and Nathaniel merely smiled at the situation, no matter how desperate.

"That is where we disagree. You're not unstoppable. At least, not yet."

To Be Continued

Author's Notes: A fairly decent chapter overall, I'd say. Morris was loads of fun to write in this chapter, as was Bartimaeus. And I'm sure I'm going to have lots of fun - lots of fun - reading your reviews considering the bit about Nathaniel.

Next Chapter: Endgame.

"Without warning, a deep roar much like that of a hurricane filled the room. Kitty twitched; Makepeace jumped forward, his eyes rolling upwards in his head. A slight glow began to surround him: hints of red and violet, with black spots here and there. He laughed, but it was not his voice. It sounded demonic, as if the devil himself had risen from the marble."