Chapter 5: The Temple
By Conception.Creation
Disclaimer: The Bartimaeus Trilogy is property of Jonathan Stroud
A/N: Hmm, interesting dream, Nari. (Wish I could make it come true!) Thanks for the encouraging reviews. (and the tasty lollipop from Duckweed) I thought I'd mention that the places in this story are all real. Try googling them! And now, here's Bartimaeus, take two...
It was time. Dusk was falling over the valley, casting odd shadows on the tree tops beneath me. I was a small desert lark, flying above the palm groves, my innocuous shape belying my true power. Sand-coloured wings flapped vigorously, propelling me towards the rubble-topped rock that was the Temple of Amun.
I wondered if Herman Werfel and his followers were aware of the history of the ruins where they met. It was a truly poetic choice for an anti-magician organization. (The Temple of Amun had once been home to a particularly nasty magician–the Oracle of Amun. As is the custom, her excessive extortion and greed was punished with immense fame and riches. This incited the jealousy of many of the ruling pharaohs, who sent their armies to ransack the temple. Unsurprisingly, they were never heard from again. According to legend, the Oracle conjured up vast sandstorms to cover the enemy invaders, with the help of an unusually powerful pentacle. Ironically, distracted by the joy of her victories, the magician lost control of her magic. The resultant blast of energy obliterated the Oracle, her disciples, and most of the nearby village of Aghurmi.)
I flitted over the worn pathway up the side of the hill, passing several shady-looking individuals wending their way up to the temple above. No one seemed to notice the dainty fowl weaving between them. Boy, these folks were certainly out of practise. If I had not been a benevolent spirit on a simple reconnaissance operation, they'd have been long gone.
A low archway marked the summit. I darted beneath, noting the sentries that guarded the entrance to the temple grounds. The moon glinted off their wicked-looking silver spears. I hurried past, fortunately remaining unnoticed.
The ruins of the temple rose up around me as I entered. There wasn't much left to it. The roof was long gone, and the walls that were still standing were in terrible condition. Crumbling bits of dried mud broke from the sides of the outbuildings I passed, disturbed by no more then the gentle beat of my wings. I drew closer to the temple-proper. It was a sorry sight. The walls of the outer courtyard were completely decimated, leaving only the scattered boulders of its foundations sticking up through the ground like prehistoric bones. Elegantly fluted Doric columns that had once stood proudly framing the temple's entrance had toppled over and lay scattered in large pieces. A throng of people were congregating in the temple's outer court. Most bore grim weapons and even grimmer expressions.
Hmm. Well this definitely seemed to be the place where Kitty's meeting was being held. I swooped down lower to see if I could spot any sign of the missing magician we were looking for. I didn't actually know what he looked like, but hey, I can usually spot a magician a mile away. It was worth a shot.
I perched on a rocky outcropping, surveying the temple area on all seven planes. I didn't really expect to find any spirits lurking around, but there isn't any harm in being thorough. Just as I expected, nothing. The crowd outside the temple was growing larger. The meeting would soon begin. I took to wing again, gliding down the mountainside into the thick vegetation at its foot.
"Any sign of him, Bartimaeus?" Whispered a voice from the shadows. Kitty crawled out from the long grass where she had been hiding. The obnoxious magician, Piper, followed suit. She had refused to be left behind, declaring that she wasn't going to let me out of her sight for any longer than necessary. This suspicion she was exhibiting was one of the classic political virtues: the others being an unwholesome degree of ambition and a self-serving attitude. It's just one of those things that make magicians such agreeable company. I have no idea what she thought she was going to do if I actually started misbehaving. Was she planning on restraining me with those scrawny little arms of hers?
"Afraid not," I answered, "But the meeting is about to start, and some of us," Here I gestured over towards Piper, "Aren't invited. Run along home now, you've done enough supervising for the day."
Rebecca gave me a look that would freeze molten lead. We hadn't been getting on very well. However, we both knew there was no way she could infiltrate the meeting with Kitty and I. The girl sat down obstinately on the grassy ground.
"I'm staying right here and waiting for you, Bartimaeus. If you come back and one hair on her head is harmed–"
"Yes, yes, I get the picture." I said. Had the girl been any more on-edge, she would have combusted from stress alone. I smiled at the thought.
I perched on Kitty's shoulder as we set off towards the temple. We climbed through the thick underbrush, making our way towards the foot of the mountain. At the edge of the tree line I stopped to change into a nondescript grey rat.
"Psst, Kitty, down here!" I whispered. Kitty's eyes darted here and there, looking for the source of my voice. I waved a paw.
"A rat?" She asked, wrinkling her nose.
"Put me in you're pocket," I ordered, "I'd rather remain out of sight." Grimacing, Kitty picked me up gingerly by the tail and plopped me into the dark enclosure of her coat pocket. You know, I really don't understand what you humans have against rats. They're better looking then most of the magicians I've known. Usually have better hygiene, too.
Kitty started up the mountainside. I couldn't really see much at this point, so I just sat back and let Kitty propel us towards our goal.
"Now remember," Kitty said as she laboured up the pathway, "We are here to observe. That means no cat-calls, no magic, and absolutely no shape shifting. We don't want them to realize what you truly are."
"I'm not stupid," I said petulantly, "for your information, I've been in this line of work a lot longer then you have."
"Just be good," She warned.
Suddenly we came to a halt. I could feel Kitty stiffen. A gruff voice filtered through the thin fabric of the pocket I rested in.
"Who are you? I've never seen you here before."
I poked my nose out, careful to avoid being seen. In front of us stood one of the tallest humans I have ever seen. He was blocking the passage up to the temple compound, looking none-too friendly.
Kitty took a deep breath and opened her mouth to answer, but right at that moment a wizened old man hurried into view, cat tucked under his arm.
"Ms. Jones, Ms. Jones!" He burbled, "How wonderful to see you here! How pleased I am that you've decided to visit us!"
The cat he carried hissed and spat, struggling to get free of its effusive master. I really didn't blame it. (Actually, the cat was probably just bothered by Kitty's aura. All cats have the ability to see magical auras, and Kitty's writhed and blazed with enough intensity to give an Afrit a seizure.) The creepy old man didn't seem to notice his pet's agitation. He kept right on talking.
"And you know, today is going to be a very special meeting. Come in, dear, come in."
"Thank you Mr. Werfel," Kitty said steadily. The rat ducked back into the pocket as Werfel led Kitty through the temple courtyard, towards the entrance to the outer sanctuary. Interestingly enough, I could feel some kind of strange magic prickling at my essence. I wondered if the Oracle's old pentacle was still there on the temple floor. Kitty's hand reached surreptitiously into her pocket to rest on my fur. I could tell she was uneasy.
We joined the throng inside the temple. I looked around to get my bearings. The temple ruins were packed with people who looked rather ordinary, but their hard expressions and assortment of weaponry suggested otherwise. I wondered how Werfel had managed to rustle up so many followers in a land fundamentally devoid of magicians. (It's notoriously difficult to incite the masses without some kind of scapegoat to blame for all of your problems.)
The followers pressed together to form a wide circle. I had a better view of the floor now, and I could make out a few deep-chiseled runes in the stone beneath Kitty's feet. Interesting. So the pentacle was still there after all. We were standing in a ring around its edge. Something told me Werfel and his followers hadn't chosen this place by accident. Speaking of Werfel, the old man, now free of his cat, strode forwards into the centre of the pentacle. In a voice that seemed too loud to be coming from a man of his small stature, he addressed the crowd.
"My dear friends," He began, "Here, we gather together to celebrate our increasing victory over the magicians. We have with us today a very special young woman. She was the first great leader to stand against the magicians, and the mastermind behind the fall of the magical British Government. Her dedication and vision are a great part of the reason why we formed this organization in the first place. I give you Kathleen Jones!"
There was a thunderous applause. Poor Kitty, it's normally disheartening to hear your enemies cite you as their inspiration. I stole a look at her face. Her expression was grim.
"And now," Werfel continued, "We will proceed with tonight's program. Samir?"
The large man lumbered over, taking his place in the centre of the pentacle. Then, to my utter disbelief, he began chanting a summoning incantation.
Huh? What? I thought these guys were trying to get rid of magic. I looked up at the people around us. Nobody moved to stop the big guy.
The pentacle was beginning to fill with lemon-scented mist. I hoped we'd be safe where we stood, but to be honest I didn't really understand exactly how the Pentacle of the Oracle worked. The symbols roughly cut into the floor were foreign to me. Those who bore spears aimed them nervously towards the entity forming in the centre of the pentacle. The mist throbbed and pulsed before finally coalescing into a vaguely humanoid shape, staring out at its audience with vivid orange eyes. I checked it out on the other planes. Not someone I knew, fortunately. I squirmed deeper into the recesses of the coat, counting on Kitty's blinding aura to shield me from the newcomer's view.
The djinni looked this way and that, searching for its master. It caught sight of Samir, who was standing not three feet away. I couldn't believe the foolish human had summoned the spirit while standing inside the pentacle. You have to admire his nerve. Or his stupidity. (I find the two are often mutually indistinguishable.) The djinni glided towards the big fellow. I winced. This was going to be messy.
Suddenly, the people around the pentacle raised their arms in unison. Their mouths opened, and out poured a cacophony of gruesome sounds. As they chanted the ancient curse, the symbols forming the pentacle beneath us began to glow with an eerie light. I could feel a strange pressure building up on all sides, like water behind a dam, ready to burst. The djinni looked around, confused by the sinister atmosphere and unfamiliar spell.
There was a second of silence as the last syllables died away. Everyone in the room stood stock still, waiting for something to happen. Seconds went by. We stood, waiting with baited breath. I honestly didn't know what to expect. The air thickened, sticking in my lungs. Kitty and I exchanged glances.
Suddenly, the room began to shake. Loose pieces of rubble rained down on our heads, and a low rumble resounded, as though from a great ways off. The dim light of the runes burst into furious brilliance. In the centre of the pentacle, the spirit began to vibrate. Tendrils of oily grey essence steamed off its surface with a low hiss. The mist-creature turned its head this way and that, its panic-stricken eyes searched for an escape. A rumble of energy resounded from every direction as it vibrated faster and faster.
The djinni lurched towards the edge of the pentacle. It was going to try to break free. The rumbling around us grew deafening as the djinni began to wither. Its surface crumpled inwards, shrinking into itself as though it were being sucked into an infinitesimally small point. Then there came a thunderous roar as the spirit's essence exploded outwards, bowling over the bystanders, and diffusing into the air. Where there had once been a valiant djinni, there was now nothing but a dull echo and a rancid smell.
I was frozen in disbelief. These people weren't after the magicians; they were going straight for the source of magic itself. Us.
I was frothing at the mouth. How dare they? How dare these worthless fanatics destroy a noble spirit for the sake of there pathetic cause! A terrible thought came to me. Was this the cause of the dwindling population of the Other Place? Was what I had just seen a part of the systematic annihilation of our race? I'd thought you couldn't get any lower then a magician, but not even the most despicable of my masters had ever even considered genocide against djinn. (Perhaps this is because magicians are more concerned with killing each other, and are generally uninterested in the Other Place.)
Meanwhile, Werfel had gotten back on his feet and was smiling coldly.
"That went very smoothly, this time," He said. "Congratulations are in order."
It was the last straw. I was going to swallow that creep right this instant. I moved to jump from Kitty's pocket.
Wham! She jammed her hands inside her pockets, trapping me inside.
"Shh," She hissed between her teeth.
The crowd was stirring. I could hear their murmurs growing on either side of me. I wished Kitty would let me see what was going on.
"My dear friends," I recognized Werfel's voice, "You have made me very proud indeed. We are making excellent progress towards our goal. Now, for the next item on the agenda."
Then came some muffled shuffling, and the volume of the murmurs around us increased. I could sense Kitty tensing. What was going on?
"Long ago, our forefathers cleansed this land of the evil practitioners of magic, but behold! One has returned!"
The crowd hissed and booed. Okay, that was it. I had to see what was happening. I bit down hard on Kitty's hand. She jumped, pulling her hand away with a muffled curse. I had a feeling I was going to be paying for that one later.
Now free, I thrust out my head and surveyed the area. It wasn't hard to find the cause of all the fuss. On the floor, by Werfel's feet, lay Harold Button, politician and magician extraordinaire. (I could tell this was the man we had been searching for. My heightened senses could detect his unmistakable magician scent. Remember what I was saying about rats?)
Harold Button seemed to be in a sticky situation. He was lying in the middle of an ancient magic-magnifying pentacle, surrounded by a posse of fanatical cult members crying for his blood. Apparently the clever revolutionaries were worried that the one-legged seventy-year-old would pull a daring escape, for they had him trussed up like a pig for the slaughter.
The charming Mr. Werfel was now brandishing a rather sharp-looking knife. The tiny magician on the floor flopped about like a fish on a hook, trying to cry out past the gag in his mouth.
Suddenly I realized that Kitty was holding her breath. She wasn't going to do anything stupid, was she?
"Stop!" Kitty cried. Oops, I guess she was. (And she had lectured me about staying undercover!)
The girl had broken from the circle and was carrying us towards Mr. Button's prone form. The magician had caught sight of her and was now wriggling like mad. Several members of the crowd cried out in surprise.
"Go back, Ms. Jones," Werfel commanded. He blocked Kitty's way, attempting to stare her down. If he thought Kathleen Jones was going to stand down without a fight, he had another thing coming. Kitty pushed past him forcefully. The elderly man stumbled, tumbling backwards and landing with his feet sticking up in the air.
Suddenly, all hell broke loose. The mob rushed forward, cutting off Kitty's view of Mr. Button. Arms grabbed at her. Kitty dodged them, her swift kick sending one unfortunate cult-member flying. The girl was forcing her way through the crowd, lashing out at anyone in her path. But as much spirit as Kitty had, she wasn't going to succeed. There were simply too many opponents. They surrounded the slight girl, faces cold and expressionless. Kitty struggled as her arms were grabbed and forced behind her back.
Oh, right. I should probably be helping. I burst from Kitty's pocket, in a fury of grey fur. The scruffy rat hovered in the air, preparing to blast a magic attack from its tiny paws. Shouts rang out as the mob became aware of a fearsome djinni in their midst.
I shot a Detonation towards Kitty's captors. I wasn't too worried about hitting Kitty; the girl was pretty much impervious to magic. The bolt of energy exploded near her feet, the force of the explosion sending one man sailing over the temple walls. The other was instantly incinerated by an intense green flame. Kitty picked herself up off the floor.
Something whizzed by my ear. It was a beefy fellow brandishing a silver scimitar. Oh, I had forgotten they were armed. I somersaulted backwards, launching an Inferno in mid-flight. People leapt aside as it struck the floor in a burst of blue flame.
One zealous warrior charged, jabbing at me with his silver-tipped spear. I dodged the thrust, feeling the cold aura of the silver rushing past me. I unleashed my awesome fury upon the spear-wielding man, grabbing him by the throat and tossing him across the room. He crashed through the wall, leaving a gaping hole in the pretty sunken-relief of King Amisis offering a peace offering of wine to the gods.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Kitty making her way towards the bound magician. Time for a distraction. I swelled my rat's-form to an impossible size, lobbing magic every which way. Spasms, Convulsions, and Infernos lit up the room with their cheery colours. Now if I could only find Werfel there would be just enough time to eat him before escaping with Mr. Button.
"Hold, demon!"
The command had come from Samir, the man who'd spoken the incantation earlier. He was standing a little ways back from the fray, near the hapless magician we were attempting to rescue. I froze as I realized just who it was he was grasping by the neck. It was Kitty Jones; her furious temper was no match for the behemoth's massive strength. In his right hand he held a particularly wicked-looking knife, which was poised threateningly above Kitty's vulnerable jugular vein.