Bartimaeus

"Bartimaeus, wait!"

"Shhhh! Quit using my name like that in public. Hurry up – we're gonna be late."

Nathaniel was barely keeping up. His stuffed-up nose was making it difficult for him to breathe as we jogged across Old Town Square. We clearly overestimated the amount of time we had before the feast. Somehow, after taking many twists and turns to avoid being followed by the disgruntled corporate employee, we've managed to get lost. Many arguments later, we've found ourselves back. After getting back to the hotel room, I quickly changed, donning on the stolen brand-new suit. It was tan and sleek and I think Ptolemy would have liked it. It was his color. By the time we were finished getting ready, the feast was about to start.

As we ran across the plaza, I noticed something different. It was… cheery. The first thing I noticed was how crowded the area seemed now. Commoners walked by with their heads held up high, smiling at one another. Usually, on a winter evening like this, the plaza should be almost empty. The second thing I noticed were several kiosks scattered throughout the plaza. Commoners flocked to these with clear interest and purpose. Between his gasp and his wheezing, Nathaniel pointed out several banners and makeshift flags. One quick look at these and I realized what all the commotion was. It was Gladstone's death anniversary. A picture of his face was plastered into each of these banners with his eyes crudely crossed out unceremoniously. In a large font, right below his face, the words read 'Zlo je pryč.' That was Czech for 'evil is gone.' Not surprised Prague would be celebrating a dark holiday.

The Astronomical Clock Tower stuck out like a sore, magnificent thumb. That's where Old Town Hall was located at. Looking far ahead, I could see several courting couple looking fresh and clean with their evening wear.

"Nat – come on. You can die later."

Nathaniel slowed down his pace, coughing and wheezing. "These people – How dare they speak ill of the dead! And a magic- "

"Shut up," I hissed between my teeth as I pulled him along. "We're one of them, remember? So you better look happy the old fool is dead too."

Nathaniel grumbled but quickened his pace.

"We need a plan," he whispered. "How do we know who is Abraham? What do we do after we find him?"

Just ahead of us, commoners formed a small crowd in front of the Astronomical Tower. A cacophony of polite applauses and palpable excitement buzzed through the charged, cold air. Next to the tower, a heavy-set door made out of iron and dark wood opened. Tantalizing and shimmering lights and music spilled out, embracing the commoners. I pulled Nathaniel along and joined the crowd. We've arrived just in time.

One by one, as if herding a group of cows, commoners stepped into the building. I kept my eyes peeled, searching for anything that might resemble an Abraham. I bent low towards Nathaniel and whispered.

"When we find Abraham, should we talk to him before or after the feast?"

Nathaniel pondered for moment, wiping his nose in the process. "We might have to do it after. I'm not sure we'll be able to find him before the ceremony begins. How should we introduce ourselves?"

We stepped into the building. It was a grand space, to say the least. A grandiose portrait was pinned along one side of the old stone walls. On the other walls, several wrought iron candles were lit, flames dancing gently. In the center of the room, a large iron chandelier with several lit candles hung from the ceiling. It seemed that the place was cleared out of everything in preparation for the feast. A large mahogany table took up most of the space. In fact, it was large enough to seat the entire crowd that was busy bustling in and settling down. Silver plates and utensils were neatly arranged across the table. There must have been about fifty of these sets. My essence stirred. I hesitated. This place was covered in lethal metal.

Nathaniel followed my gaze. "Iron and silver?"

I nodded. "Yeah… And I think that's Abraham."

At the head of the mahogany table, a broad-chested man sat. He had a sharp face with a wide smile. His beard, similar to his bright ginger hair, was kept in a close shave. He wore a smart and elegant suit. In his breast-pocket, a green handkerchief spilled out pompously. He held a dark smooth wooden cane with his left hand. He stood up from his chair, leaning heavily against his cane, and spread one arm out ceremoniously.

"Welcome everyone! Welcome! Everyone, take a seat."

As one, the crowd split and took their seats. Nathaniel and I took our seats near the center of the table. A line of people sat to our left and rights, chattering to their neighbors. The silver radiating from the plates and silverware were almost overwhelming. I gritted my teeth and swallowed. This is bad. With a napkin, I subtly pushed the silver plate away from me and kept my distance. It didn't do much, but it was better than nothing.

Nathaniel sneezed into the crook of his elbow. Wiping his nose, he leaned towards me.

"I think we should confront him after the dinner. Is that okay?"

"I'll take care of the talking," I said, nodding.

Abraham tapped his cane against the stone flooring. The chattering of the crowd quietened, and looked up expectantly at the broad-chested man. He smiled, his teeth gleaming.

"Welcome to Gladstone's Death Feast!" He said with a hearty laugh. The crowd giggled along with him. Nathaniel sulked silently.

"It's the one day of the year where we can all be thankful for Gladstone," Abraham continued, his cheery voice booming. "It's wonderful, isn't it? Prague had sustained many damages. Damages that still lurks in the shadows to this day. Our grandfathers and grandmothers lived through a most terrible time. And here we stand, in the ruins. Of what is left of the great Prague. But…"

Abraham paused, as if in deep thought. He rapped the tip of his cane against the table's legs. As if on cue, the doors behind him bustled open. Butlers wearing elegant suits stepped out carrying silver trays with gloved hands. Various steaming food sat on the trays, the delicious scent filling the room.

"But not for long!" Abraham shouted, laughing. There was much shuffling and clattering of plates and silverware. People hummed and chattered amicably, giving out praises and cheers. With great grace and care, the butlers passed out the various meals throughout the table. There was steamed lamb chops with herbs, roasted potatoes, peas and carrots, sausages, honey-glazed ham, sweet bread and pumpkin pastries.

I looked about me in disgust. People were practically drooling and foaming at the mouth. Even Nathaniel looked at the ham and potatoes that was elegantly placed on his plate with great awe. I looked at my plate. A forlorn looking sausage was swimming in thick gravy.

"It's not going to bite you," Nathaniel interjected, amused by my discomfort.

"I'd rather eat shit."

"No, you wouldn't. Eat. You have to blend in."

I scoffed. But he was right. I looked to my right, curious as to what my neighbor was doing. It was a gruff man, with rough beard that covered half of his small face. He was wolfing down a lamb chop with great gusto. Gross. I picked up my sausage with a hand, careful to not touch the plate. I swallowed, suppressing the forming gag. Nathaniel watched as I took a small, tiny bite on one end of the sausage.

"See?" He added, smiling. "It wasn't that bad, now was it?"

"Again, I'd rather eat shit."

"Should I take that back to the chef, Ptolemy?" A familiar voice interrupted.

I looked over my shoulder. A smug looking Alec wearing a typical butler's outfit stood over me, holding out a silver tray with several champagne glasses.

"I take it the drug business isn't doing so well?" Nathaniel responded before taking a big bite out of his ham.

Alec sucked in his teeth. "If you must know, I'm doing Abraham a favor. He paid handsomely for some important delivery and he promised more if I continued helping him tonight. Speaking of that, I'll be right back."

Lacking the grace that all the other butlers had, Alec stalked towards Abraham, who was now sitting. The food in his plate remained untouched. His eyes slowly ran across the many grubby faces that sat feasting. Alec bent low, whispering into Abraham's ear. A small smile formed. Alarm bells began to ring in my head. Something didn't feel right. I tugged Nathaniel's sleeve.

"Hey, uh, Nat. Something's wrong."

Nathaniel swallowed a mouthful. "What do you mean?" He forked a potato and stuffed it into his mouth.

"Will you stop eating?" I snapped. "You do remember the feast is to celebrate a magician's death, right?"

He paused his chewing. "Oh, right."

"Nat, I think we –"

From the head of the table, Abraham stood. At once, the room quietened again. People paused in their feast and looked up with great expectations, quiet whispers being exchanged among each other. I was getting nervous. I edged myself closer to Nathaniel, ready for any quick impromptu escape. With a voice that carried power, Abraham spoke.

"Today is not just a day for Gladstone's death… It's also a day for quiet revenge..." As he spoke, people leaned in closer, wanting to soak each and every word. "For some time now, I've been working in the shadows. Quietly. I've been working for a very specific goal. I've had some people help me along the way."

He tapped his cane against the table. More butlers bustled into the room, carrying even more trays. I eyed the butlers and flicked through all the planes. No danger...

"Recently, I visited Italy's coast and spent some time there reminiscing that many ways I could fulfill my goal," Abraham's voice boomed over the clatters of plates as several butlers passed brand new dishes along the table. People whispered happily, humming agreeable at their dishes. The most horrid alien-looking dish was placed in front of Nathaniel and I. I scrunched up my nose.

I nudged Nathaniel. "What the hell is this thing?" I whispered, pointing at the dish in front of me.

"It's an oyster…"

"While I was reminiscing," Abraham continued. "A brilliant idea came to me. I could use food to bring people together; to celebrate. Food brings out happiness and joy. It brings people from all kinds of backgrounds. From the poor gentle bloke living in poverty to the most cut-throat politician magician. And it was perfect for my goal. And so I fished along the coast and had my oysters and clams shipped to all over the world."

Abraham paused, possibly for dramatic effect. Some of the people at the table to this opportunity to do a gentle applause. With a flutter of his loose hand, the applause died down. His other hand gripped his cane tightly, knuckles turning white. His smile gave no indication of anger.

"I admit that since I have set out my goals, my plans were… challenged in a way. I had to improvise on the way. But… out of sheer stupid luck, it seems as if things would work out in my favor anyways. Everyone, I would like for you to welcome my special guest."

Alec appeared behind Abraham, holding out the tray with the champagne glass. With his loose hand, Abraham plucked a champagne glass from the tray and raised it. And looked directly at me.

"Welcome John Mandrake and Bartimaeus."

"Fuck," Nathaniel muttered under his breath.

Ladies and gentlemen, that was the appropriate response.