Chapter 1: The Meeting
By Conception.Creation
Disclaimer: The Bartimaeus Trilogy is property of Jonathan Stroud
A/N: Special thanks to my reviewer. You really made my day!
Kathleen Jones fidgeted in her seat. The long bus ride was making her antsy. Her seat was hard, and the view out of the window beside her was less then spectacular. Nothing but flat plains of sand stretched between the Siwa Oasis and the town of Marsa Matruh, where she was now headed. She did not like making this trip. In fact, Kitty had been to town fewer then four times in the entire six months she had been living in Siwa. If it had not been for Mr. Button, she certainly would not be doing so now.
Harold Button had once mentored Kitty in the art of summoning, and she still had something of a soft spot for the doddering magician. He was currently in Egypt on business, and Kitty has made plans to meet him later today. It had been over a year since she had last seen him. Unfortunately, the magician had ties keeping him in Britain, and Kitty rarely had an opportunity to see him. She supposed she could have flown out to visit him earlier, but she still felt uneasy about the idea of returning to London. She had tried it once, after her trip to Prague, but walking through the city where everything was so familiar and yet so different was strangely painful. It was only here under the sunny desert sky that she had finally felt true peace.
There was a metallic thunk from overhead, as if something heavy had fallen against the roof of the bus. Kitty looked up absentmindedly. Suddenly, the metal roof shivered. With a shrill grinding noise, a pair of ragged green claws pierced through the roof as easily as if it had been made of rice paper. The passengers cried out in terror as the clawed hands rolled back the layer of metal, and a hideous creature dropped inside.
Kitty had seen her fair share of demons. From imp to afrit, they all took a perverse delight in assuming monstrous shapes, and this particular specimen was no exception. Mottled green skin, piercing mandibles, an extra set of arms–your typical foliot. The creature swiveled its head around, apparently searching for breakfast. The passengers cowered in their seats.
As the foliot bent towards a cluster of quaking schoolchildren, a young man sitting near the back rose up. With a heroic cry, he hurtled himself down the aisle, leaping towards the monster's exposed back. A green flash of light, and the foolish hero was sent tumbling head over heels through the air, crashing through the windshield and bouncing twice before landing in the dust, unconscious. Kitty roused herself. She had to do something.
She quickly checked herself for silver. Nothing. Lured into a false sense of security by the usual lack of magical activity in Egypt, she had foregone her usual silver knife she had once kept with her for just this sort of occasion. It figured. Her eyes caught a glimmer. The woman seated in front of her, who was currently frozen in wide-eyed terror, was wearing a silver hairpin. Kitty gave the hairpin an unceremonious yank, causing her neighbor's elaborate hairdo to tumble down over her shoulders. Brandishing the long pin above her head, Kitty made a run for the beast.
Noticing the slender girl hurtling towards him like a grey-haired lightning bolt, the creature raised a claw. Immediately, Kitty's vision exploded in a brilliant green blast. A Detonation, head on. Blinking away the bright spots in her vision, Kitty continued towards him. Her natural resistance to magic was far stronger than anything the demon could dish out. She fell upon the creature, plunging her makeshift weapon into its chest. The flesh melted where the pin struck, and an oily vapor billowed upwards from the wound. Spirits were very sensitive to silver. Any contact with it destroyed their essences. With an enraged cry, the demon lifted a meaty arm.
The blow sent Kitty flying into the back wall of the bus, where she collapsed like a rag doll. With a groan, Kitty pulled herself to her feet. The foliot charged at her, intending to impale her on its razor sharp pincers. Kitty quickly sidestepped it, bringing her weapon down hard and striking over and over again. Hissing smoke rose from the wounds the hairpin inflicted, stinging Kitty's face and choking her breath. Chunks of foliot-flesh rained down on her, bouncing off her arms and face. At last the demon collapsed, shriveling into a smoldering pile of ashes at Kitty's feet. She stood over it, boiling essence dripping from the end of the silver pin she clutched.
There was a moment of pure silence. The passengers on the bus stared at her, mouths agape. Slowly, a scatted applause sounded from the back of the bus. Red-faced, Kitty returned to her seat. The pin was returned to its owner, and the unconscious man outside was carried in. The bus started up again, pattering its way down the straight stretch of road toward Marsa Matruh. After all, the desert was no place to stop, even with a broken windshield and a gaping hole in your roof.
The rest of the bus ride was borne in silence. Kitty fiddled with a strand of her long grey hair, trying to ignore the wary glances of her fellow travelers. She did not like the way they looked at her. They seemed grateful for her help, but a little frightened. She could guess what they where thinking. Who was this girl? How did she do that? When they finally arrived in Marsa Matruh she was the first one off the bus, bouncing down the steps with all the zeal of a convict escaping from prison.
Kitty aggressively elbowed her way through the crowded streets. There were people everywhere. Each summer thousands of Egyptian tourists flocked to the Mediterranean city, seeking temporary relief from the sweltering heat and dense overpopulation of Cairo. It was quite a change from the quiet isolation of Siwa.
She was now approaching the café where Mr. Button was supposed to meet her. It was a small, yellow building. A few patrons sat around small metal tables outside, playing backgammon and smoking sheesha. Mr. Button was not among them. Kitty swept inside, giving the extraordinarily tall man leaning against the wall a wide berth, and sat down at a table to wait. The late afternoon sun was warm on her shoulders, and she let herself relax in the comfortable café atmosphere. Her eyes wandered over the men sitting nearby. She was surprised to see a Western face among the usual mustachioed Egyptian ones. He was an older gentleman. He sat casually in his chair, sipping a cup of strong Turkish coffee, and listening attentively to the lively speech of a middle-aged local man sitting across from him. His hand rested on the head of the tiny cat that was curled up in his lap. The cat suddenly tensed, meeting Kitty's gaze. It slid off the man's lap and leapt onto Kitty's table, its hair standing on end. It opened its mouth wide and hissed fiercely. Kitty sat up in alarm.
The old man hurried over and scooped up the aggravated cat.
"A thousand apologies my dear," His voice, with its thick German accent, came out strained as he struggled to restrain the squirming feline. "Freia is a rather high-strung cat."
Kitty ran a shaky hand through her hair. Truthfully she was rather taken aback by the unexpected encounter. She rolled her eyes inwardly. She had faced down a slavering demon without so much as a blink; it made absolutely no sense to be alarmed by a scrawny cat.
"It's fine," She said, finally. "She just startled me a bit."
The elderly gentleman smiled gently. "I'm Herman Werfel. Who do I have the pleasure of meeting?" Warmed by his friendliness, Kitty returned the smile.
"My name is Kathleen Jones," She replied. Werfel's face lit up.
"Surely not the Ms. Jones? Who lead the Resistance, and spearheaded the British Parliamentary reform? I can't tell you how much I've longed to meet you. I've always felt that I have a similar calling, to rescue the common folk from the clutches of magic…"
"Well, that was a long time ago." Kitty could feel the blood rushing to her face. She always felt embarrassed when her early attempt at achieving equality with the magicians was mentioned. She may have had good intentions, but the whole episode had ended in spectacular tragedy. Glancing around the café, she wondered why Mr. Button had not yet arrived.
"Still…" Werfel's face grew serious. He leaned in towards her, speaking in a low, urgent tone. "Ms. Jones, our meeting here can not be purely coincidental. Perhaps you have heard the recent tales of magical attacks in this area? Magicians may have been dealt a mighty blow, but they are still among us, plotting their revenge." Kitty thought suddenly of the foliot on the bus. Was the foliot's master some disgruntled magician, bent on taking his revenge on Kitty for her part in the magician's fall from power?
"Now listen," Werfel continued, still struggling to maintain his grip on his cat. "I have managed to gather a group of people willing to fight back and wipe all traces of magic from this world, a sort of new Resistance. We would be honoured if you would be able to join us, even for just one meeting. After all, your example has been such an inspiration to us."
Kitty's eyes bulged. Getting involved in more politics was the last thing she wanted to do right now. Besides, there were magicians she liked and respected. Mr. Button for example.
"Um, I'm sorry Mr. Werfel, but I'm not really interested right now."
"Are you certain?" The man looked disappointed. Kitty nodded. She was more interested in forming a peaceful balance between the magicians and the commoners anyways. This talk of annihilation worried her.
"Well, if you change your mind, you're certainly welcome. We are meeting in four days at dusk, at the Oracle of Amun, in Siwa." Kitty blinked. Well that was a strange coincidence. Siwa was where Kitty lived.
"Well, thank you for the invitation, sir," She said, "but I should really be going. I was supposed to meet someone." Speaking of which, where was Mr. Button?
"I understand." Werfel replied. Soothing his cat with low whispers, he returned to his table. Kitty gathered her belongings. Obviously the scatterbrained magician had forgotten his appointment with her.
Kitty had taken less than a handful of steps away from the café, when a voice called out to her.
"Kitty!"
Kitty turned around. Behind her was the diminutive form of Rebecca Piper. Kitty stared at her, uncomprehending. Rebecca was the head of the Magician's Council back in Britain, what on Earth was she doing here?
Rebecca's brown eyes flitted nervously up and down the street. She took a shallow breath, and grasped Kitty's sleeve. Her face was taught with anxiety.
"Kitty, I came as soon as I heard." She said
Kitty's confusion increased.
"What do you mean? What happened, Rebecca?"
Rebecca Piper's eyes grew even rounder.
"You don't know? Come with me." Pulling her by the sleeve, Rebecca drew Kitty away from the road and into the shelter of a quiet back street. She paused, drawing in a shuddering breath before she began.
"It's Harold Button. He's been missing for three days."
Kitty frowned.
"I was supposed to meet him here." She said.
"I know. That's how I knew where to find you. We've lost all contact with him. He won't return our calls and hasn't shown up to any of his appointments here." The petite magician was growing increasingly frantic. Kitty gave her a skeptical look.
"You're overreacting, Rebecca. You know how Harold is…" The elderly magician was well known for his absentmindedness.
"You don't understand!" Rebecca's voice was growing louder. "Kitty, you've been away for a long time. Things have been happening back home. Did you know that four months ago, one of our magicians was assassinated? Several members of the Magician's council left us after that. I've even heard rumours that at least one of them was blackmailed into retirement. Lately, my regular servants haven't been obeying my summons. They must have been killed somehow. Someone has it in for us. There were never very many of us magicians to start with, not after the Demon Rebellion." Rebecca leaned in close. "As it stands right now, Harold and I are the last two magicians in parliament. And if he's gone…"
"Then you're next." Kitty finally understood.
"I have to figure out who's doing this." Rebecca's tone was determined, but Kitty could read the fear behind her eyes. Suddenly, Kitty's thoughts jumped back to the man at the café. What was it he had said? A group of people willing to wipe all traces of magic from this world…
Kitty stiffened. Could it be? She rushed back out into the street. There was the café, now starting to bustle as the local men gathered for some evening conversation, but there was no German face among them. The stranger was gone.