Kitty.

I could see her world forming around me. I wasn't exactly sure how I made the transition from the other world to hers, but I was grateful.

I spent a moment just looking at Kitty, her beautiful face, her slender hands wrapped around the blanket hem. This was the first night I hadn't found her sleeping in the library.

I ran my hand over her face; her hair, her cheekbone, her perfect lips. Kitty never stirred.

The first night I had shaken her, had whispered in her ear, but it was no use. I couldn't wake her.

I was vaguely aware of another presence off to the left, on the other side of the bed. I ignored it, and picked up Kitty's sketchbook.

I had trouble writing; too structured, I suppose. Drawing was slightly more abstract, and I could manage that.

I turned the pages of the sketchbook until I found the last one I had done. I turned the page one more time, and saw a picture I hadn't been expecting. Me.

Before, there had only been one drawing of me. Now, it appeared, there were several. On this page, various studies of my face, my eyes, my hands. It was amazing that she remembered me so clearly. I looked at her once more, soundly sleeping, and repressed the urge to kiss her. It wouldn't be right, not without her consent, or even knowledge.

Who's consent?

I was fading. I had to do tonight's portrait.

This time I focused on an image it hurt to remember. Kitty, her soul in the Other Place, lying in her smudged pentacle, with an iron key in her hand. I had thought her dead.

I wanted her to see the agony I had felt then. I wanted her to see what I had seen. If this was the only way to communicate with Kitty, I wanted her to feel my love for her.

I drew her face first, as always. Then her hair, and the pillow it was spread upon. Then her neck, arms, chest, midsection, and her legs. I filled in the texture of her clothes.

The page wavered in my vision. I didn't have long left.

I drew in the pentacle, the pentacle opposite. The rest of the room took shape.

I put all of the pain I had felt at that moment, into the portrait.

I...

was fading.

fading.

There was a hand on my shoulder.

A voice came from behind me.

"Nathaniel."

I turned, to to see the familiar form of Bartimaeus.

"Good to see you," I said.

"You, as well."

I looked at Kitty.

"Will you wake her for me?"

Bartimaeus frowned sadly. "She can't see the plane you're on. She can't see you, or hear you. And she never will. Maybe you should...move on soon, Nathaniel."

"She drew another picture of me. Several."

"Yes."

"Does she know I come here?"

"Yes. I told her, and she drew that picture to try and communicate with you."

"She can write. I can't write, but I can read. She can write."

"I'll tell her."

I looked at my hands, they were disappearing, and I couldn't stop them.

I looked up again. "I'm fading, Bartimaeus. Goodbye. Do say hello to Kitty for me. Tell her to write. Goodbye..."

And then there was Void.