Eck. Took me a while to update. Anyway, this is pretty short. I decided to experiment with writing from Zeno's POV, rather than beloved Bartimaeus'. This chapter is sort of a continuation of the last chapter.


Chapter 5! Zeno reflects on the Past.

It used to be so simple.

The Man pointed and said, "Kill." So he killed.

The Man pointed and said, "Steal." So he stole.

The Man pointed and said, "Die." So…well, Zeno hadn't actually followed through with that one. But the point still stood.

But now?

The stooped-over, balding, decrepit excuse for a Man gestured vaguely and lisped, "Please see what you can do about making my colleague, Mr./Mrs./Ms. Etc. die/suffer/go mad/lose something/have a bad day. Or Else."

It confused him to no end.

And not only that, but his own kind were becoming the same way.

Once upon a time, guises were simple. Billowing Clouds of Smoke. Pillars of Sand. Cats. Children. Classic Things. And when witnessed by humans, Terrifying Things. Snakes. Bulls. Cyclopes. Rabid Dogs.

But now?

This Noble Deceased Egyptian Princeling---Who Was, By The Way, A Genius---With Whom I Share An Incredibly Kinky Bond That Stretches Across The Ages And Defeats All Space And Time.

And that was just one example. It didn't bear thinking of how long some of the other titles were.

Zeno wasn't calling himself blameless, of course. He'd participated in it a bit too. But he hadn't at first. That was the important bit. Really, his participation was all Hitler's fault anyway. Blondes…

He liked the old days, when a huge, smoky figure sporting spears and swords and whatnot from invisible arms could pass in a battle. (Who needed some impressive, flutey, human-thing to show off? You were there to kill, not to flaunt.) Before magicians had developed speech impediments, when humans thought it was still honorable to fight for themselves (but not without a little help on the side). And when djinni had still had guts enough to stand their ground in the face of the impossible, NOT crouching in the corner of a side room deep in some tomb like one coward in particular had.

Once upon a time, things like that didn't matter. It was a man and a billowing cloud of smoke.

Things had been simple.

Surviving had been easy.

So, so easy.

Hear the order. Put the order into action. Get dismissed.

But now?

Become conveniently deaf while hearing the order. Put some form of the order into action. Get burned.

He was a fox at that point. A small, smoldering fox, patches of singed fur spotting his back. His tail was even sadder; a charred, black, sorry excuse for a bushy appendage.

That old bitch. She made it sound like he deserved the Shriveling Fire…

"I don't know what you're sulking for."

Zeno tried to glare at the black cat perched on the windowsill above him.

"You brought that entirely on yourself," The cat continued, with more than a hint of malicious intent. He indicated Zeno's burns with his paw. "Those are the marks of stupidity, see? That's why you have them and I don't."

"Shut up, Bartimaeus," Zeno snapped. "It was entirely not my fault."

"Really," Bartimaeus drawled.

"Yes, really," Zeno replied brusquely, settling down on the stones leading into their current master's garden. "You had a part in it too."

"Trying to get rid of the evidence? That was charity. I remain blameless," The cat looked down pityingly at him. "You poor thing."

Zeno didn't dignify the comment with a response. Bartimaeus seemed to take his silence as an invitation to continue.

"You know," He said chummily. "I bet licking those would help a bit. That's what animals are supposed to do when they're sore, isn't it? Lick the pain away or something."

"They're on my back. How am I supposed to lick them?"

Bartimaeus grinned. "I could lick them for you."

Zeno growled low in his throat. "If you were worth the trouble, I'd get up and eat you."

"I'm flattered you even thought of it," Bartimaeus assured him. "I'm going inside. How about you?" He gasped, then put a paw over his kitty lips and nose mockingly. "Oh. So sorry. I forgot. She set you out there for the night, didn't she?"

Zeno wanted to get up and hurt him. Really, really badly. Hurting the things that annoyed him always made him feel better.

But his back was so sore…

The cat snickered and turned away. "Good night then…you cute little pup."

Zeno barked angrily at him, and the coward skittered away sharpish.

Zeno settled back down again, smirking ever so slightly. At least one thing hadn't completely changed.