Nathaniel
The bleeding sun was setting fading off in the horizon. The wind picked up, the biting cold piercing into Nathaniel's skin. He wrapped his coat tighter against him, seeking what little warmth he had left. He stood next to the now abandoned pretzel-stand. Shops around the square were now closing and commoners were scurrying out with their last minute purchases. The plaza was almost empty now. Nathaniel tapped his foot impatiently. Bartimaeus hadn't returned yet. He had hoped the djinn hadn't abandoned him and the mission in Prague. He could technically summon him but the action of doing so almost felt wrong. Besides, he didn't think he could focus enough for the incantation.
Moments after Bartimaeus's abrupt depart, Nathaniel had spent the rest of the day fighting back tears and composing himself. His emotions hung heavy like a dark cloud in his mind, and his heart dropped as he recalled the event over and over. He didn't truly understand what had happened; his mind kept drifting off back to the intimate moment before the heartache. It took some time before Nathaniel could finally focus on the mission. He had washed his face, hoping its cool water could wash away his problems. It didn't, but the cold did distract him for some time.
Now, standing alone by the pretzel-stand, Nathaniel felt exposed and vulnerable. It shouldn't be long before Alec showed up. Or maybe, even hopefully, Bartimaeus. Just when the stars were beginning to peek through the vast, empty sky, a voice called out to him.
"Hello, Nathan. Where's Ptolemy?"
Alec was casually leaning against the pretzel-stand, a small smirk. His dark stringy hair moved against the bitter wind. He wore a black coat that reached down to his knees.
"He had some things to do," said Nathaniel with a voice he hoped sounded relaxed. "He'll be here soon. He'll call me when he's ready."
Alec slowly nodded but said nothing. He shrugged. Turning on his heels, Alec waved Nathaniel over, gesturing to follow him. Nathaniel caught up to him and fell into step beside him.
"Where are we going?" Nathaniel asked.
Alec flashed a smile. "You'll see."
As they walked, Nathaniel uneasiness grew. The openness of the plaza disappeared, tight narrow alleyways replacing it. They slinked together down an alley, turning left and right. Deeper and deeper they walked down the pathway. Their footsteps echoed against the decaying walls and several large rodents scurried out into the darkness. During the walk, Nathaniel kept himself preoccupied by memorizing each twist and turns. Alec bounced with every step, whistling a happy tune that clashed with the dreary atmosphere. The echo of the whistling tune gave it a haunting sound which made the hair in the back of Nathaniel's neck rise. Just when Nathaniel felt he had enough of the dark, Alec trotted over to an old door of a small bricked building and knocked. The knock echoed from within. Scuffling could be heard, and then the door creaked open. Looking over Alec's shoulder, Nathaniel glimpsed a thin woman. Her dark eyes were sunken and her long, stringy auburn hair were plastered against her sweaty forehead.
Nathaniel instantly recoiled at the high stench that drifted from within the building.
"Euch! What's the smell?"
Looking past Alec, the thin woman's eyes shot towards Nathaniel.
Alec nodded at the thin woman. "Hello, Em. This is Nathan, the one I told you about. Is everything ready?"
Em licked her lips nervously, glancing back at Alec. She kept herself hidden behind the door, her white fingers clutching the edge of the door tightly as if to prevent anyone from entering. She dropped her voice to a harsh whisper. Nathaniel strained to listen.
"Are you sure? We can't afford to screw things up right now."
"I'm sure. Can we come in now?"
The thin woman eyed Nathaniel one last time before opening the door. As the door opened, the stench became stronger. Nathaniel fought the urge to gag and cursed. Entering the building, Nathaniel silently wished for Bartimaeus's company.
A dim light struggled against the heavy, dark smog that hung in the ceiling to reveal a small, shabby room. The walls were stripped free from wallpapers revealing dark rotting wood. In some parts of the room the carpet was stained. There was no window and furniture. Only a large, metal table with intricate glassware and bottles sat in the center of the room. One of end of the table, a pot sat on a burner, the liquid bubbling vigorously. A young boy could be seen stirring the pot, his thin hair pressed against his head.
Alec hopped onto the metal table, the glassware clinked together dangerously.
"This," Alec gestured at the room, ignoring the young boy's protest. "All this is where the magic happens. This is where we make JuicePops." He plucked up a vial from the table and inspected the clear liquid within. "See this? Viktor here can churn a couple gallons of these liquids in a few days. After that, he turns them into pills like the one you're familiar with. We only need an ounce to make one pill. The production on this stuff is amazing."
Nathaniel had never felt so out of place. He briefly wondered if all the commoners in London were partaking in the same activities.
"So, you make and sell drugs?"
"I take it you've never done this before?" Alec asked, a grin spreading across his face.
Behind him, Nathaniel heard Em suck in a sharp breath "Are you saying that you've picked someone with no experience?"
Alec waved a dismissive hand. "It'll be fine, Em. I have everything exactly as I want it."
Nathaniel cleared his throat. "Um, what exactly is going on? Am I doing something?"
Alec fingered the vial, watching the content swirl.
"Yes, actually. It's a shame your friend can't be here. I would have like if you two went together with this small mission."
"A mission?"
"Everyone here has job. You've already met Em. She's the seller. Don is out right now but he's the smuggler. He's currently importing JuicePops into London as we speak. You've seen Viktor, the kid behind me with the pot. He makes the stuff."
"What about you? What do you do?"
"I'm the messenger. I do the planning and the organizing and I work for someone else. You'll meet him soon enough. Now, your mission. How comfortable are you with magicians?"
Nathaniel tensed up; he felt his heartbeat quicken. "I'm comfortable enough, why?"
"Any experience?" Alec smiled lazily, an eyebrow raised in an amusing manner.
Nathaniel glanced around room, acutely aware of the eyes on him. In contrast to Alec's cool demeanor, Viktor was cold. He never stopped stirring, even as he silently glared at Nathaniel. Em was now pacing back and forth across the room talking to herself in frantic whispers. She glanced at Nathaniel, and silently shook her hood muttering a few curse words. Everyone but Alec were doubting him, he could sense that well enough. However, Alec seemed to be testing him. The smile showed indifference, but his eyes were cold and calculating. They were watching his every move. Nathaniel swallowed, carefully choosing his words.
"I have spent some time talking with them during my travels. I know how they talk and what they like. I believe Ptolemy has more experience than me, but I can manage myself around them."
Alec's smile never faltered but his eyes shone. Hopping off the table, he drew a small paper bag from his coat's pocket. He tossed it towards Nathaniel.
"That bag – open it. It's got JuicePops. Worth about 23,000 Czech Koruna. A couple of magicians ordered it, and they would like to have it tonight. They're regulars. Do you think you can handle that?"
Nathaniel fiddled with the bag nervously. He counted six pills. The thought of taking another one made him wince as he recalled the soreness he experienced. "I can – hang on. There are magicians here? In Prague? And I thought Em was the seller."
Alec nodded, crossing his arms. "Yes, Em is the seller. Not the deliverer. Anne and Stefan deliver but they're a bit occupied at the moment. And yes, there are magicians. They like to hide themselves. Many of the people here feel that their presence are an insult. Which I agree."
Nathaniel decided to take a chance. "You know, I've heard stories of people building an army against the magicians. Like in London. They would steal weapons and use it against them."
Alec paused, considering Nathaniel for a second. "Sounds bad ass. Fortunately, we don't have to worry much about magicians here. Just these guys for now."
"If you hate magicians, why are you providing them your services?"
"Magicians make good money. You can easily rip them off. And, like I said, they're regulars. They always come back for more. It's not good business to turn someone away if they're willing to dish out large amounts of money at you."
With the grace of a sick youth, Em rushed by Alec's side. She bent down, whispering into his ears. Alec shook his head. "Enough, Em. It'll work, trust me."
A mild annoyance crept up on Nathaniel. He tightened his grip on the paper bag, crumping it. "If you're going to have doubts about me, I prefer if you would say it out loud. Whispering about as if I'm not here is rude."
Alec chuckled. "He's right, Em. But the whispering isn't about you. It's about the pills."
Nathaniel blinked. "Oh. What's wrong with them?"
"Viktor is trying out a new thing. He added something extra as a special thank you for them supporting our business. A little extra symptom for them to enjoy. Em is just worried it's not going to have it's intended effect. But we already tested them, and they work exactly how we want them to work. Just slightly stronger effects. But it should pass."
From behind the pot, Viktor grunted. He switched off the burner. The contents within the pot stopped bubbling. A foul stench rose from the pot. Em, muttering to herself, reached around the table and placed a lid on top of the pot.
"So I just deliver it?" Nathaniel asked, suppressing the urge to cough as the stench assaulted his nose.
"Well, first you need to ask for the money first. And then, you can give it to them. You don't want to stick around. Unless, you want to see what these pills do."
"What do you mean?"
"You know what? Stick around them." Alec chuckled, brushing his hair out of his face. "It'll make no difference to our plan. So, are you going to do the mission?"
Viktor grunted. "He's not going do it. He looks like a bitch."
Although he couldn't see how, Nathaniel knew that he was getting closer. He was in the group now. They were relying on him to do an important task that dealt with magicians. Something about this felt like he was on the right track. And yet, he was uneasy. He thought of Bartimaeus and silently cursed. Why must he be gone now? When he needed him the most? Taking a deep breath, Nathaniel stuffed the brown paper bag into his coat's pocket. Safe, secret, secure.
"I'll do it. What's the address?"
-0o0o0o0o0o0oo-
Standing before him was a grand house made out of aging stone. Curtains were drawn to a close, but he could see light filtering through. The wooden steps leading up to the front door groaned beneath his steps. Nathaniel glanced down at the piece of paper with the scribbled address that Alec had provided him. With confirmation, he raised a hand and knocked. He took a breath, calming his nerves. It was a long and cold journey. He hadn't expect that running and hiding in the shadows, away from police and questionable people, would be exhausting. It had been an hour since Alec had let him go, and he had spent the last thirty minutes weaving in and out of the dark neighborhoods, searching for his destination. With every step he took, he would look over his shoulder as if expecting for something. Every bump in the night made him jump, and he had already cursed at two stray cats that abruptly scurried away into the shadows. His legs would be aching if they weren't numb from the cold.
Muffled conversation could be heard from inside; the porch light flickered on. A very round man opened the door slightly, peeking out at Nathaniel.
"Yes? Who is it?" He asked. He wore a small monocle and his hair was nothing but a fine tuft on his head.
"I work for Alec," Nathaniel started. From his pockets, he pulled out the paper bag. "You ordered these, yes?"
The man's eyes widened. Licking his lips, the man grabbed Nathaniel by the arm, pulling him inside. With a yelp, Nathaniel fell forward.
"Did anyone follow you, boy?" Slamming the door shut, the round man snarled as he grabbed Nathaniel from the back of his collar, pulling him up on his feet. Nathaniel raked at the man's hands with desperation.
"Let me go! No!"
With a grunt, the man released Nathaniel. Huffing, Nathaniel looked about his surrounding. It was a much nicer place. Well, as nice as it could get in Prague. Although the walls could use some work, Nathaniel noticed how clean everything had seem. The rug beneath his feet, as dusty as it was, was still beautiful. It reminded him of the rug Simon Lovelace's partner had commissioned long ago. Ornate candles and picture frames lined the walls, and the wooden furniture were neatly placed in a perfect arrangement. The place vaguely reminded him of his younger days with Underwood.
A shrill voice called out, echoing throughout the building.
"Randyll? Is that our order? Bring it here, would you?"
The round man sniffed as he fixed his sleeves into place. "You ruined my suit, boy. You better hope this stuff is good. Follow me."
Begrudgingly, Nathaniel followed. Thankfully, the man was slow. As they walked, Nathaniel took in every detail he could find. There was the large photograph with three smiling men wearing suits, including the round man; candles and incense were spotted stuffed in an old bookshelf that contained magical tomes. Nathaniel even spotted the edge of a pentacle, poorly hidden underneath a dirty rug. He sniffed the air; no familiar scent of burning incense.
Three magicians. No spirits. It seems that they haven't summoned anything in quite some time.
For a moment, Nathaniel thought of revealing his true identity. They were magicians! They could help him with his mission now that Bartimaeus had gone missing. Magicians must always stick together, especially in a hostile environment like Prague.
Who's to say they aren't working for the Resistance?
He remembered that a magician summoned a djinn to murder him. No, he must keep his identity a secret.
With an abrupt shove, the round man led Nathaniel into a large and occupied room. Similarly to the room before, the place was neatly decorated with antique furniture. A frail chandelier hung from the ceiling, giving the place a bit more of a refined look. Three magicians stood in front of a burning fireplace chatting. Nathaniel recognized only two of them from the photograph. One of them was a very pale, young man with dark hair and bright eyes. The other was a much shorter man, a head shorter than Nathaniel. His face was pinched and he held himself in boastful manner. The unknown man was a graceful dark-skinned man. Everything about him screamed powerful. His suit was smart and sharp and his smile lacked any warmth.
As Nathaniel entered the room, the three men paused in their amicable chatter. The short magician eyed Nathaniel curiously before smiling, revealing stained teeth.
"Do you have it, child?"
Nathaniel wordlessly nodded. He held up the brown paper bag.
The short magician hummed approvingly. "I'll take that then."
Nathaniel held the bag up, out of reach from the short magician's grasping hands.
"You have to pay first. Alec wants the money upfront before I hand anything out."
The young magician chuckled as the short man snarled.
"Now, listen here child," the short man growled as he stomped his foot. "I don't play silly games. So, hand me that bag now or else! I know powerful people in far away places, child. I know things that your nightmares couldn't even come up with. Now, hand me that bag!"
"This is amusing," said the young magician. Chuckling, he nudged at the unknown man next to him. "A child is taller than Franklin! How embarrassing is that?"
Looking up from the short magician's tantrum, Nathaniel glanced into the unknown man's dark, cold eyes. Suddenly feeling his knees go weak, Nathaniel fearfully glanced back down. The round man grunted from behind, and with aching fingers, snatched the bag from Nathaniel's grip.
"Hey! You have to pay first!" With effort, Nathaniel lunged at the round man. With a push and shove, the round man successfully knocked Nathaniel down. He landed heavily on floor, pain shooting up his side.
"We'll pay!" The short magician sneered as he scrambled over Nathaniel as if relishing the small moment of being above the boy. "Just give us a moment, child."
Wincing, Nathaniel sat up and watched as the round magician reach into the bag with shaky hands. As if by habit, he expertly propped two pills onto the back of his thumb and flicked into the back of his throat. The bag passed around; more hands reached into the bag. Only the unknown man didn't partake. He stood in the back, silently watching the rest of the magicians. As the last pill was being swallowed, the round man let out a short and gurgled cough.
"Ah! It has been so long, boy." He coughed again, thumping on his chest. "It's been quite some time. I may need to get used to the side effects, yes."
The short magician eyes widened. "Are these the stronger ones that I requested, child? Alec has been doing great work. Abraham has taught him very well, don't you think Venny?"
The young magician cleared his throat, loosening his collar. "I think… these are stronger. Yes, Abraham is very good with choosing his apprentences. And you child? Are you new?"
Nathaniel nodded wordlessly. He was focused on the short man's face; it was turning pale now, and his eyes were almost bulging.
"What -?" The short man swirled to face Nathaniel. His mouth moved, but no sound came from it.
"I- uh – I was told that you would get some new symptoms but that it should pass. So, the payment is –"
The round man suddenly toppled over to the ground. A gurgling sound could be heard. He coughed; blood splattered against the carpet. The short magician collapsed; one hand clutching at his throat, the other reaching out for Nathaniel. His breath were slow and short. Blood began to dribble on his chin.
"What—did—you – do?"
Heart pounding, Nathaniel scrambled to his feet away from the short man's grasp. He looked in horror at the scene before him. The round man was now shaking, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. Nathaniel wasn't quite sure whether to cry or to vomit. Everything seemed to be going too quickly. He attempted to scream, but it stopped short at his throat. Fear had gripped his throat. He needed to get away. The room filled with more cough as the third magician fell to his knees, gurgling out a blood-curdling scream. Nathaniel turned ready to run; the unknown man grabbed his arm, yanking him back. With a cry, Nathaniel fought back; he felt his fist connect the man's face. The man let out a curse and slammed Nathaniel against the wall.
"What the fuck did you do, Nathaniel?"
Wide eyed, Nathaniel paused in his struggle. "I - Bartimaeus..?"
"Why are you here!? Damn it. They were just about to explain to me that troubles they have been having with some of the commoners here! Why are you here!?"
To Nathaniel's anger and humiliation, he felt hot tears stinging his eyes. His voice trembled as he spoke.
"Bartimaeus, I—I don't understand what's going on. Alec –"
The djinn released his grip on Nathaniel, leaving him slumped against the wall. He passed a hand over his face as he surveyed the scene. The last living magician's took in a rasping breath, his eyes seemingly blank. Finally, there was silence.
Nathaniel's shoulder trembled. He couldn't move. His vision blurred behind his tears as he stared at the lifeless bodies. Every instinct that had told him to run was now crashing, burning. A sob erupted from him. The strength left his legs as he slid against the walls, sinking down onto his knees. His breathing was ragged, and his tears flowed unchecked.
"I just murdered magicians," he said in between sobs.
"Yup, join the club, kid." Bartimaeus bent over the bodies, searching in their pockets. "Don't see why you're worked up over it now. You killed the old magician back when you were—what - twelve? And you sorta had the Underwoods murdered. Clean the snot from your face, please."
"That was self defense! And I didn't kill the Underwoods. This was deliberate. I gave them –"
"The drugs Alec gave you."
Bartimaeus face hardened with a sudden realization. His cold dark eyes now shone brightly. He rushed towards Nathaniel, bending down to his eye level. His tone was now rushed and stern.
"What exactly did Alec tell you, Nat? Did he know these guys were magicians? I need you to tell me everything you know."
Nathaniel wiped his face but the tears kept coming.
"He knew they were magicians. He asked how I am around them. He then told me that they're regular costumers and that they're expecting a new shipment of the drugs. It was money motivated. Magicians have money. He wanted me to give it to them and he mentioned that they were going to get a whole new experience. I asked what he meant. He said that I could stick around to see what happens but I just wanted to take the money and go. I didn't want to stick around. I just wanted to drop it off and go. I didn't know. I didn't know anything. Now they're gone and -"
"Nathaniel, do you know what this means? Alec could be one of them. He could be working for Hopkins. We have to go back. You have to take me to him."
"Why weren't you there?" Nathaniel cried, desperately fighting back the tears.
"What?"
"I needed you and you weren't there."
Bartimaeus let out an impatient sigh as he stood back up. "I'm here now. We have work to do, Nathaniel. Listen, I'll get rid of the bodies. You focus on recomposing on yourself. You're a mess."
"I'm only a mess because you weren't there!" Nathaniel shouted. His anger was now giving him new strength. His face mottled with crimson. "You disappeared on me and left me all alone."
"For only a day. Damn it, you can't handle being on your own for a day!? We're not discussing this right now. We have three corpses, a hot trail, and frankly, I'm not in the mood. Help me lift this big guy."
The djinn bent down and grabbed the round magician by the ankle. He paused, looking at Nathaniel expectantly. "Are you gonna help and grab his arms or do I have to do everything myself?"
"Is this what you've been doing? Making friends with the magicians? Drinking their wine and getting all cozied up beside the fireplace?"
Bartimaeus scrunched up his face in annoyance. "Yes, for the fucking mission you wanted done."
"Do you want to know the shit I had to go through the past few hours!?" Nathaniel was now standing, his clenched fists at his sides. The tension in his voice wavered against his easing sobs.
"No, not really. But I have a feeling I'm gonna hear about it anyways."
"You're being an insufferable dick!"
Bartimaeus let out a frustrated groan. "Nathaniel, I'm not going to ask again. Shut the hell up or I will leave you all alone again."
Nathaniel angrily wiped his tears again, but said nothing. It wasn't often that Bartimaeus would threaten him. In reality, it was often Nathaniel threatening the djinn. He felt himself flush upon realizing that the djinn now had power over him emotionally. The room fell silent once again. Only the sound of frantic shuffling and footsteps could be heard as Bartimaeus moved the bodies.