Hi everyone! This is my first time writing a fanfic. I'm a huge Bartimaeus fan! The third book hasn't come out in Canada yet, so sorry if anything in this story conflicts with anything in Ptolemy's Gate. Hope you like it!
Short Summary: (Pre-Ptolemy's Gate) Nathaniel, Bartimaeus, and Kitty end up together in a search for a mysterious and powerful artefact: The Amulet of Phasma Mortuus. NatKitty (yay!) and an adventure in the land of dead spirits…
Disclaimer: I, like many others, wish I owned the Bartimaeus trilogy. However, I do not. Jonathan Stroud does, and he is unarguably a genius.
Prologue
The magician known to most as John Mandrake relaxed on the suede couch in the living room of his townhouse, his face troubled. Sighing, he pulled a stack of papers toward him and began to work.
It would have been amazing to any onlooker that today was his sixteenth birthday. Then again, most sixteen-year-olds weren't part of the government, or had been since the age of fourteen. Most sixteen-year-olds had parties with lots of friends on their birthdays, ending up with most of the household probably drunk.
Not so for the Head of Internal Affairs, soon to be member of the Prime Minister's Home Office.
The boy whose real name was Nathaniel snapped his fingers. A foliot appeared at his side instantaneously. Nathaniel muttered something to it, and the small demon set off to work.
He was enjoying a cupcake in the kitchen ten minutes later…well, not really enjoying. You see, to enjoy birthday cake (for that is what it was) one has to have many people eating it with you. Nathaniel had no one, and it was beginning to prey on his mind.
Oh, they all pretended to like him at work, fawning to get his good favour and, thus, the Prime Minister's. Yet here he was, on an occasion for celebration, and all he'd gotten was a reminder from the Head of Security, Ms. Whitwell, that his report on marid activity in France was needed in two day's time.
Nathaniel could count on the fingers of one hand all the people in his life that had ever cared for him. Mrs. Underwood, she'd been as good as a mother to him; and Ms. Lutyens, who had befriended him and protected him once. He could perhaps count in the playwright Mr. Makepeace (a great friend of the Prime Minister), who had become his closest correspondent and collaborator. He wasn't really sure about the Prime Minister, Mr. Devereaux, because he'd been known to turn his back on Nathaniel when things looked rough.
Another regretful thought was that he couldn't even put his parents on his already-limited list. From what he'd understood, they had just taken their money and left…just like everyone else. A couple of years ago, he might have said it had been for the best; after all, he was a powerful magician and a prominent figure in government.
He did not think so anymore…magician or not, he didn't think most sixteen-year-olds lived by themselves. Nathaniel decided he needed therapy. Badly.
Then there was still the perplexing matter of Kitty Jones…according to Bartimaeus, she and her friend were dead, but he wondered if she didn't haunt him sometimes. He wondered, for what seemed like the millionth time, why she had saved him. Twice. He couldn't believe she could possibly have cared for him in any way, after his betrayal, but now he thought he might like to see her again sometime, to thank her. It had been against his instincts to do what he had done, after all…
For Nathaniel had changed these past couple years. He'd cut his hair, accepting it (finally) as a hindrance, to a more manageable length. He had disposed of his tight clothes for more comfortable, yet still highly fashionable, suits. He was less gangly then he had been when he had last summoned Bartimaeus, yet still very thin and pale; he did not sleep or eat well.
He looked at his watch; it was almost three in the morning. Another late night. He sighed, but could not help thinking: What happens now?
"Kitty! Are you listening to me?"
Kitty blinked and looked at her friend.
"Rose! This is a public place! Or have you forgotten I'm living under a borrowed name?"
Rose flushed.
"Sorry, Alyssa Feldman. But are you listening? We can't do it tonight! Look at all the spheres!"
Kitty grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her out of the bookshop.
"Am I or am I not the leader of the Resistance, Rose? Keep your mouth shut in public, for heaven's sake!"
Rose fell silent. She was by far the most sensitive of the member's of the Second Resistance, but her ability to see magic and demons was treasured in the group.
"I'm sorry, OK?" Kitty whispered to her as they passed a magician, who gave them a reproachful look before going on his way. If it wasn't the middle of the day, Kitty might have punched him. It was getting harder to control her anger when her comrades had loose tongues in their heads!
Kitty left Rose when she got to her apartment near Alexandra Park and entered alone. No one in the Resistance wanted to do anything she said, and yet they still accepted her as leader; that, at least, was a comfort.
She found a letter pushed through the cat flap of her door. Kneeling to pet her cat, Elena, she opened it brusquely to find a scrawled note in the Resistance code. The handwriting was Kevin's.
Hope you are well tonight. We're not doing anything this evening, as Rose was supposed to tell you. Jenson says he's found something in the magicians' library.
Kitty sighed. Another plan made without her approval; no doubt it involved stealing more artefacts, as if she hadn't learned her lesson in Gladstone's tomb. What happens now? She thought to herself.
Hey guys! Sorry for lack of action in the prologue…it'll come soon! Review please, thanks for reading this far!
