Chapter 7: The Hunt
By Conception.Creation
Disclaimer: The Bartimaeus Trilogy is property of Jonathan Stroud.
A/N: Thank you for the reviews! Pkoholic, thanks for the muffin, I hope you continue to enjoy the story. Here's a longer chapter!
"There's one." I said quietly, lifting an arm to direct the gaze of the two girls on either side of me.
Kitty, Piper, and I were loitering casually in the Siwa market square. In spite of the hot sun, the three of us had been standing there for nearly three hours, in vain hopes that one of our mysterious spirits would show up and obligingly lead us back to its master. Up until this very moment we hadn't had any luck.
"Where?" Asked Kitty, squinting her eyes against the mid-afternoon glare.
"There, beside the fruit stand." I pointed with more vigor.
The subject of my attention was a small beggar boy. He was sitting against a heavy crate, his twisted legs bound by filthy bandages.
"Come off it, Bartimaeus," Said Piper, "That poor little urchin?"
Said poor little urchin gave a hear-rending sniffle, holding out a worn tin mug to an obviously affluent passerby. The wealthy man dropped him a few coins, causing a thankful smile to light up the boy's innocent features. A touching scene–on the first three planes, that is.
On the fourth plane, the boy was quite obviously a particularly revolting form of imp. One of its yellow, spider-like limbs wrapped around the handle of the tin mug, while two of the others were rubbing together in devious anticipation. Its bloodshot eye was darting around the marketplace in an industrious search for that elusive perfect meal.
"Yep, definitely." I said, answering Piper.
The three of us crept closer. The sweet little beggar-boy had hobbled to his feet, and was now wobbling towards a plump-looking tourist. I wasn't quite sure whether he was aiming for alms, or just a quick lunch.
I wasn't destined to find out, either. Right at that moment a sturdy looking police officer ambled up to the boy and began to speak to him in harsh Siwan. I assume he was being reprimanded for pan-handling, or pick-pocketing. Or possibly even cannibalism. (The latter assuming the officer had unlikely powers of foresight.) Whatever the exchange was, it resulted in the boy's quick exit from the marketplace.
I glanced at Kitty, who gave me a wordless nod of agreement. The three of us quietly slipped off in the direction the imp had gone.
Our new imp friend walked ahead of us, unaware of the string of stealthy hunters that followed in his shadow like circling vultures. He turned aimlessly through the winding Siwan streets, picking up his pace until he was practically sprinting. We followed after as best we could.
We were approaching the edge of town now. The jewel-green palms were giving way to the rolling dunes of the Great Sand Sea. I could see the imp ahead of me, its crippled form leapt across the sandy hills with surprising agility. Ignoring the searing heat that reflected off the pale sand, I zipped after him. Ptolemy's feet were lost in a blur of motion.
Suddenly I realized my companions were no longer by my side. I wheeled around and glanced over my shoulder. The girls, not quite so nimble-footed as I, were fifty yards back, trudging resentfully through the knee-deep sand. I let the imp run on ahead, waiting for Kitty and Piper to catch up with me.
"About time," I said as they dragged themselves to the top of the dune where I waited. Kitty was panting heavily, and Piper's ratty hair was sticking to her sweaty forehead. They weren't going to be chasing anyone, anywhere. Once again, it was all up to me. I swiftly switched forms.
"Hop on," I commanded. Kitty's eyes widened in disbelief.
"I don't ride camels, Bartimaeus." she said.
I batted my long, camel eyelashes at her.
"I won't let you fall, come on."
After some rather amusing scrambling, the two were perched precariously on the camel's back. It took off at a loping pace, drawing closer to the poor crippled beggar, who was blazing through the desert with miraculous vitality. There was nothing but rolling desert dunes as far as the eye could see. My hooves kicked up hot, dusty sand as we passed further and further from Siwa and civilization. My passengers jolted up and down with each long stride.
"I think I'm going to be sick," Piper complained, "Why do you have to lurch around so much?"
"Hey," I said, "This is my first time as a camel. Operating these gangy legs is a lot harder then it looks. If you don't like it, you can walk."
Piper subsided into a sullen silence. Unfortunately it didn't last.
"We're in the middle of nowhere," Piper complained again, "Let's face it, this imp is not returning to its master any time soon."
Much as I hated to admit it, the girl was right. The imp had, by now, led us deep into the Western Desert. I seriously doubted we would find a magician lurking here.
"How about we try Plan B," I suggested, craning my neck around to see my passengers. A frustrated noise left Kitty's throat.
"We didn't think to make a Plan B." She said.
"Untrue," I said sagely, "Plan B is where our imp friend gives us some neighborly directions with the encouragement of a little mild physical persuasion."
"Physical persuasion?"
I was off before Kitty had a chance to admire the sophistication of my plan. The camel accelerated to speeds previously unknown in the natural world. My passengers clutched my neck, flapping about like flags in a strong gale. I caught up with the imp just as it reached a deep depression in the sand, overshadowed by hulking boulders. It wasn't until I'd rounded the bend that I realized my mistake.
I halted abruptly, causing the girls to tumble off my back and roll into the dust. The camel balanced on its knobby hind legs, crouching in a defensive pose. I looked around me.
Spirits of all shapes and sizes clogged the passage through the rocks. There must have been thirty or forty of them altogether. Spiky, blue imps; foliots sporting multiple arms; there were even a few mites in the crowd. (Why a magician could want a mite in his service I hardly dared to guess) The little imp we'd been chasing had taken its place beside a particularly potent-looking djinni, whose arms were crossed in a rather threatening manner. I couldn't believe I'd allowed this to happen. We had been ambushed.
We were in a tight spot, alright. Even a powerful spirit like me would think twice about taking on so many spirits, even minor ones. Kitty and Piper lay on the ground where they had fallen, probably afraid to move and call attention to themselves.
"I hope you haven't been bothering Tipkin here." Said the potent-looking djinni, who stood by the side of the little imp with the bandaged legs. The djinni was in the guise of a sinewy Thracian warrior. I was really not in the mood to fight him.
"Um, no," I answered, "We were just out for a nice desert stroll, here. We ought to be going, so–"
The warrior lifted a heavy brow. (It was studded with fancy golden baubles and pierced through with a sharpened bone. Too showy, if you ask me.)
"Terribly sorry," He said, "But now that you've seen us, we can't be letting you go."
The spirits around us leapt into action.
Imps flew at me from all sides. One met with a sharp blow from my cloven hoof, another was sent spiraling into the air with the aid of a well-aimed detonation. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Kitty punching the lights out of a minor foliot. Good for her.
Some djinni or other lobbed an inferno my way. I changed form, becoming a smaller target. The crackling blue magic sailed harmlessly over Ptolemy's head. I uprooted a nicely-sized boulder and sent it hurtling towards my assailant. The spirit was crushed beneath its formidable weight.
A tiny mite latched onto my toe with its pincer-like appendages. I looked down at it.
"You're going to have to try a bit harder than that, mate." I said. (Pointlessly, since such lowly beings are rarely capable of communication.) I was distracted by a sudden scream.
Piper was cowering in the sand, helpless against the bolts of magic flying back and forth through the air. Tipkin the beggar imp had crept up behind her, its arms raised, prepared to loose some fatal blast of magic. I crushed the mite beneath my foot, and bounded towards them, tossing a Convulsion at the imp. It was immediately surrounded by roving black bands of magic that shook it to pieces before Piper's astonished eyes.
"Thanks," She said. We stared at each other. It suddenly occurred to me that I had just rescued Rebecca Piper, a magician. If anyone found out about this, my reputation would be over.
An angry bellow sounded from behind me. I turned. Kitty was battling the Thracian warrior, from whom thunderous growls were emitting. The djinni charged towards her like a locomotive.
Kitty dodged the djinni's punch. Her face was set with that famous look of determination I knew so well.
"Who sent you?" She demanded.
The djinni made no answer. Green light burst from its fist as it sent a detonation hurtling towards the girl. The magic dissipated harmlessly around her.
"I am immune to your magic," Kitty declared, "Tell me who summoned you and I will let you live."
The djinni ignored the offer. It charged towards her, fists swinging. Kitty jumped out of the way, plunging her knife deep into the Thracian's bicep. The djinni howled in pain and rage.
"Who is your master?" Kitty cried with fury.
The djinni clutched its smoking arm. It narrowed its eyes and smiled menacingly, revealing a mouthful of broken teeth. It spoke, its voice deceptively polite.
"Why, you are ma'am." It said.
That was not the answer Kitty was expecting. For a moment, she froze in surprise. It was all the djinni needed. With sickening horror, I watched as its clenched fist crashed into Kitty's slender frame, sending the girl hurtling through the air. She smashed into the side of a boulder, whacking her head and crumpling into a heap. Clouds of dust rose up around her still form. The Thracian warrior chuckled deeply.
His gleeful laughter was cut off by the furious yell of a small Egyptian boy that sailed through the air. I hurtled into him, latched onto his back and started jerking out fistfuls of his hair.
"Ow!" The djinni cried. He flailed out, trying to get a handle on the boy wrapped around his neck.
"I'm going to kill you! Kill you!" I cried. Not quite as eloquent as usual, but I was beside myself.
The djinni wrested me from his back and tossed me over his head. I skidded over the sandy ground and came to a rest near the spot where Kitty lay. The girl was unconscious, but still breathing.
The Thracian stepped towards me.
"You have been very foolish, little djinni." It rumbled, "Very, very foolish." It reached out towards me. I braced myself for the inevitable.
There was a whistling sound, and then a muted thwap as a bright silver missile passed through the Thracian's eye and out the other side of its head. The djinni crumpled instantaneously, its essence dissolving from the contact with silver. I looked over my shoulder. There Rebecca Piper stood, eyes wild, arm still outstretched from the follow-through of the silver disc she had thrown.
The spirits around us, imps for the most part, started back at the sight of their fallen leader. I propped myself up on an elbow and tossed a half-hearted inferno their way. It wasn't much, but it caused the spirits to break rank and retreat in all directions.
As our enemies fled, Rebecca and I rushed to Kitty's side. She was conscious now, her breaths coming in short, painful gasps. I knelt down and tentatively brushed aside a lock of the silvery hair that tangled around her face.
"Kitty," I said softly.
"I'm alright." She panted. Her face was pinched with pain.
"Alright?" I asked, "I'm surprised your limbs are still attached."
Rebecca gingerly lifted the hem of Kitty's shirt, revealing the angry purple bruises stretching across her torso. She pressed down gently, then quickly pulled her hand away at Kitty's agonized cry.
"Looks like a rib fracture," Rebecca said, "More then one, I suspect."
"No, I'm fine, just winded," Kitty insisted through teeth clenched against the pain. Rebecca smiled grimly and shook her head at Kitty. I grabbed Rebecca's arm and dragged her a few feet away.
"We have to get her out of here," I said, "The spirits will be regrouping as we speak."
Rebecca frowned.
"We can't move her right now. A broken rib could piece her lung. One of us should go back for help–"
"I will," I said, "No offense, but I'm way faster than you."
Rebecca crossed her arms.
"No, I should go," She countered, "If those spirits do come back you'll need to be here to protect Kitty."
I nodded slowly, though I had my doubts concerning my most recent performance.
She turned to leave, skinny frame silhouetted against the sinking sun.
"Rebecca," I called after her, on an impulse.
She paused, turned around slowly.
"Nice shot." I said.
She grinned, gave a slight nod, and was running up the side of the sandy slopes towards Siwa.