Nathaniel

It was a gloomy morning. The air was damp and chilly and it smelled of wet Earth. Winter was setting in, replacing the cool breeze of Autumn. Although the sun was out, it could scarcely be seen under the thick blanket of dark clouds that hung low teasing the city of London for a chance of light snow. In the streets of London, passerby walked by huddled among their coats and jackets. Commoners scurried into and out of buildings, and the magicians leisurely walked with their noses high in the air.

In the outskirts of London stood the old library. Long ago, it was a place where commoners could come down to read and learn many things, including magic. However, about a decade ago, the prime ministers and other magicians, fearing of a rebellion among the commoners, stripped the library of any books dealing with magic: history, demons, artifacts, and more. As time went on, less and less commoners came by. Slowly, the library and the books within it, began to age and wither. Despite the ban on magic books by the magicians, it was said that only a few of these books were kept safely within the aging library. It was until Nathaniel and Bartimaeus uncovered Mr. Hopkins's book that they discovered this to be true.

Nathaniel had spent the majority of the morning going down each aisle searching for the book in question. He clenched his fist as he scanned the top of a bookshelf for the 5th time, agitation starting to build up within him. To his left, the djinn materialized.

Bartimaeus crossed his arms, leaning against the bookshelf with a smug smirk. "Is it rude to say I told you so?"

"What?" Nathaniel asked sharply. "I thought I ordered you to check the aisles."

The djinn studied his nails coolly. "I did. About 34 times in the past ten minutes, in fact. The book is gone."

Nathaniel pressed his lips together. If the book was truly gone, then they had nothing to find Hopkins. The case would remain cold, and the threats of assassination would loom over his head. He thought of Jane and wondered if her djinn was able to capture the injured demon. Maybe it was best that she did get involved with the investigation… After all, she was almost killed. A foolish thought came to him.

"Where's the librarian receptionist?"

Bartimaeus thumbed over his shoulder. "Around the corner."

Not waiting for his djinn, Nathaniel turned a corner and found himself facing a small, decadent desk with stacks of withering books and pages sitting on top. Behind the desk sat an elderly man. His wispy, white hair only clung to the side of his head, leaving the top bald and shiny. The loose skin on his neck wobbled whenever the old man moved his gummy mouth. Nathaniel scrunched up his nose in disgust.

"Excuse me, sir. I'm looking for a book titled The Art of Runes and Staff by Clive Potter. I can't seem to find it. Can you assist me?"

"Ah," the elderly man smacked his thin lips. "Yes, I can. Let me check my records here."

With a snail's pace, he plucked out a page from the stacks of papers to his right. Much to Nathaniel's annoyance, the old man took some time scanning the paper, his shriveled finger moving slowly across the page. Nathaniel huffed, and tapped his foot. He hated relying on the elderly. Their minds and bodies were weak and forgetful. They offered nothing useful to him. He would never allow himself to be that frail.

"A bit ageist, aren't we?" The false boy whispered as he stepped next to him.

Nathaniel began to protest when the old man let out a squeal of satisfaction.

"Ah, yes. Here it is," the old man said as he held out the paper to allow Nathaniel to see. "The book is currently checked out by Smith Sweathers. He checked it out quite some time now."

Bartimaeus spoke. "What does he look like?"

"Hmm. Well, if my memory serves me right, he was a young boy. Younger than this young man." He said as he raised his knobby finger at Nathaniel.

Nathaniel grimaced at the old man. He doubted the old man could remember his own name. Yet, it was all that he had.

"What else, sir?"

The old man gummed his lips, thinking quietly. "There were other kids with him. They all wanted this particular book. That's all I can remember."

Nathaniel silently nodded. A gang of children checking out a book dealing with magic. This sounded like another Resistance made up of entirely commoners. If Hopkins also checked out this book long ago, he could be currently active in creating these rebellions. Nathaniel already had his fair share with the Resistance long ago when Kitty Jones was alive. If only Kitty didn't foolishly sacrifice her life… The Resistance could have been quelled up quietly and Hopkins would be sitting behind bars.

Nathaniel grabbed Bartimaeus by the arm, leading him away from the old man. "We need to find these children. They're part of the Resistance."

The djinn tugged his arm out of his grip. "First, don't grab me like that. Its rude and you're getting too comfortable. Second, there's like a million kids here in the city of London. It could be any one of them."

"Not every child will be resistant to magic. We need to find one with magic resistance carrying that book. Then we'll interrogate him."

Bartimaeus scoffed and rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "Easier said than done, pal."

"We'll get it done," Nathaniel said as he pushed the front entrance door. The cold air whipped in, biting into his skin. He tugged his coat tighter, keeping the little warmth he had trapped. Walking across the street, he kept his head low, his eyes fixed on the pavement. Bartimaeus was right. It may take some considerable time to search for the Resistance. Perhaps he could create a trap such as leaving magical items unattended in a public location. It'll be like catching a mouse with a cheese. He looked over at Bartimaeus. To fit in, he wore a large coat very similar to his. Nathaniel gritted his teeth in annoyance realizing that the coat looked better on Bartimaeus then it did on him.

Bartimaeus always found a way to unintentionally annoy Nathaniel in simple ways. Nathaniel hated the way the djinn made the Egyptian boy look older and stronger. As Nathaniel aged, Bartimaeus made a conscious effort to age his guise along with him. Years before, the djinn's preferred form was a small framed child. Now, to what feels like mocking to Nathaniel, the Egyptian child grew. He was a head taller than him, his form still slim but toned. Only the eyes stayed the same. Nathaniel always felt weaker and inexperienced next to this specific form. It also didn't help that it was attractive. Unsuspecting young girls and women would occasionally ogle at the djinn; a young foreign man sporting clothes that fit perfectly on him. Nathaniel often found himself restraining himself from snapping at these women.

Pushing his jealousy aside, Nathaniel forced himself to focus on the current task. "Bartimaeus, we're going back to my place. I need to pick up some papers, speak to Jane about her progress on her djinn hunt, and make a plan to find these children."

"Sounds good to me. Will you dismiss me after that?"

Nathaniel stopped short and chewed on his bottom lip. "I – I was thinking of dismissing you by the end of the week, if that's okay."

"Hallelujah!" The djinn pumped a fist into the air in a festive manner. "Now we're talking."

"Also, when we go back to my place, I want to do that thing we do. If that's okay with you."

"Oh," Bartimaeus paused. "Yeah, sure."

Nathaniel nodded and resumed his long silent walk to his place, his mind clouded with thoughts of the djinn that followed close behind.

-0o0o0o-

The djinn gently caressed Nathaniel's face and leaned forward to meet Nathaniel's anxious lips. Nathaniel kissed back and the djinn responded by applying a bit more slight more pressure into the kiss, deepening it. Nathaniel found his heart fluttering in his chest rapidly, his palms quickly getting sweaty. For the next few minutes, he followed the djinn's lips with his own. He felt himself sigh as Bartimaeus's hand travelled to the back of his neck. He felt a current surge run through his body and raised a hand to tug the djinn's shirt to pull him closer.

Bartimaeus pulled back. His golden eyes frantically searched Nathaniel's face, confused agitation dancing within. "What are you doing?" His hands dropped back down to his side, releasing Nathaniel from his gentle grip. Nathaniel felt exposed suddenly.

"Nothing," Nathaniel stammered. He felt his cheeks go hot. "I just got carried away, that's all." He cleared his throat and wiped his mouth, ridding any evidence of the kiss. It really was nothing to Nathaniel. It was just a simple kiss and his own body's natural reaction gave in for a second.

Bartimaeus narrowed his eyes suspiciously but said nothing. Instead, he turned and plopped himself onto the small, antique couch, feet kicked up high on the coffee table. Much to his annoyance, Nathaniel became too aware of his embarrassment and he gritted his teeth. While he stood there red faced and humiliated, the djinn sat unbothered with a flippant expression. It wasn't fair.

"It doesn't mean –"

"Yeah, yeah," the djinn waved a dismissive hand. "It didn't mean anything."

Nathaniel blinked at Bartimaeus dismissive attitude. It shouldn't matter, anyway. Nathaniel straightened his back. There was no need to dwell on these petty issues. His embarrasment was nothing compared to the situation at hand. He had no time to reason with himself and with Bartimaeus. It was back to business. He needed to talk to Jane.

A knock sounded on his front door.

Bartimaeus raised a lazy eyebrow. "Expecting company?"

Nathaniel slowly shook his head, making his way towards the door. It wasn't always that he received company. If he did, it was usually his assistant dropping off paperwork that he requested. Nathaniel opened the door, revealing a short and very round man.

"Oh, Mr. Makepeace. This is a surprise."

The round man chuckled and bent by the waist for a dramatic bow. "This was my intention, Mr. Mandrake. I came to personally invite you to a ball." The man smiled, his thin lips forcing dimples on his red, pudgy face.

"A ball?"

"Yes! May I enter? Mhm, yes thank you, pardon me. I'm a large man as you know. Oh! Hello there Bartimaeus."

Makepeace made his way into Nathaniel's living space. The djinn nodded as acknodlgement at the man but said nothing.

Nathaniel cleared his throat. "I apologize Mr. Makepeace but I'm quite busy. I don't think I can attend –"

"Nonsense, my boy! The ball is for the Prime Minister's birthday. Do you intend to skip out on such celebrations? I'll have you know that the Prime Minister has been most impressed by you. It'll be such a shame for you to skip out on this."

"I hadn't realized," he mumbled guiltily.

"Of course not, my boy!" He chuckled. "Besides, I already invited Ms. Jane Farrar. I already told her that you would be there. Don't want to upset the lady now, do we? Oh ho!" At this, he wagged a pudgy finger at Nathaniel's face.

"I actually need to speak to her."

"Good then! The ball is tonight. You can speak to her then."

Makepeace forced a colorful paper into Nathaniel's hands; it was the ticket to enter the ball. Written boldly in yellow ink at the bottom of the page read 'No Demons Allowed'.

"Tonight?" Nathaniel protested, gesturing at the page. "Not even imps?"

Suddenly interested, Bartimaeus appeared at Nathaniel's side, snatching the invitation from his hand.

"What? I'm not invited?" The false boy quickly scanned the page before handing it back to Nathaniel. He crossed his arms, and cocked his head to side in a quizzical manner. "Hm. Bold of you to disinvite a 'demon' right in front of one."

Makepeace laughed heartily. "I would like to call myself bold and fabulous. So, I'll take the compliment."

The djinn never removed his eyes from the large man. "Uh-huh."

A few seconds passed, silence filling the small living space. Nathaniel exchanged awkward glances with Makepeace. Finally, Makepeace stirred.

"Well, I must get going now, Mr. Mandrake. I'll see you tonight. Dress sharp, my boy! I'll show myself out, oh ho!"

After much shuffling and giggling, the large man made his way out onto the hall as Nathaniel closed the door behind him. The ball was tonight and Jane was going to be there. Fear and paranoia took ahold of him, a sudden realization came upon him. Knowing Makepeace, he must have invited all of the high profile magicians into one location. If the Resistance were targeting these magicians, and they caught a whiff of the event, he expected an appearance or an attack tonight. Nathaniel rubbed his temples. With Makepeace request of no demons, this could cause issues. Hundreds of vulnerable magicians without any defenses against dangerous commoners with nothing to lose. No, he needed Bartimaeus to be there.

Bartimaeus plopped himself back onto the couch. "I dunno about you, but I don't exactly trust this Makepeace man. Even his name sounds phoney."

Nathaniel paused to consider the djinn for a second. "He's just a man with an obsession with theater. He's harmless."

Bartimaeus slowly nodded, his mind preoccupied. "I'm gonna be at the party," he finally said with a dull, flat tone.

Nathaniel looked up, his eyes meeting the djinn's. "For once, we agree. I want you there in case another attack occurs. This is the perfect moment for the Resistance to strike."

"Where's the party at? Do you know if it'll be secured with silver to keep out the spirits?"

Nathaniel glanced at the flyer. "It'll be held at the Prime Minister's mansion. It'll be secure, but I doubt they will secure the place with silver and irons. I highly doubt the Prime Minister would dismiss his imps. He's a paranoid old fool."

"Kinda like you, huh?"

Nathaniel ignored him. "If it's possible, I want you to accompany me. I will speak to Jane and you will keep a lookout for any suspicious activity. Place an especially close attention to any commoners."

Bartimaeus gave a mock salute. "Yes, sir."

Nathaniel looked at the time, chewing on his bottom lip. It was past noon. He needed to eat, find himself an extravagant suit and prepare himself for the ball. Jane would be expecting him.