Chapter 11: The Capture

By Conception.Creation

Disclaimer: The Bartimaeus Trilogy is the property of Jonathan Stroud

A/N: Sofia, Nari, thank you for your reviews! Nari, I figured you must be Nari-nick. You're a wonderful author, keep up the good work! Sofia, thanks for taking the time to review. I'm glad you're enjoying the story, and I hope you like this next part!

Dawn was breaking as Kitty trudged up the pathway towards the Temple of the Oracle, shoulders hunched and head down. She was going to her death; she had no doubt about it. In a few short hours, Kathleen Jones would cease to exist. She halted her assent to take in the growing glow of the horizon. Was this her last sunrise? She wrapped her arms protectively around her. She was doing the right thing. She couldn't abandon Mr. Button, no matter what Bartimaeus said. She took a deep breath and forced herself onwards.

She was nearing the top, when her foot caught on a loose stone, sending her sprawling on the rocky ground. Kitty cried out in pain as her ribs protested in agony. She pushed herself up gingerly and gulped down several deep breaths to clear her head.

"Who's there?" A voice called out gruffly. A guard dislodged himself from his perch near the entrance to the temple and strode down towards her. Swallowing the pain, Kitty straightened up and met his eye.

"I'm Kitty Jones," She declared simply, "I'm here to see Herman Werfel."

The guard gaped at her a moment, then grabbed her roughly by the shoulder and pulled her towards the temple entrance. The people milling around the temple courtyard stopped to stare as Kitty marched past, head held high.

They entered the temple, where two men stood speaking in low tones. One was small and grandfatherly, while the other was extraordinarily tall and foreboding.

"You!" Cried Samir, standing slightly behind Werfel and looking a bit singed from their last encounter. Werfel whirled around at Samir's outburst. Seeing Kitty, he grinned widely and stalked towards her.

"My, my, Kathleen Jones," He said, "What a surprise! I'd have thought you long gone by now."

Kitty's eyes narrowed.

"I've come to uphold my end of the bargain. We agreed to exchange Harold Button's freedom for that of the magician responsible for the loose djinn in Siwa. Well, here I am."

Werfel smirked.

"You would give up your own life in exchange for Button's?" He asked.

"Yes," Kitty hissed.

Werfel's smirk grew. He circled Kitty slowly, like a cat teasing its prey.

"In that case, I must regretfully inform you that Mr. Harold Button passed away quite suddenly last night."

"What? What are you saying?" She cried. Mr. Button had been fine last time she'd seen him.

"We felt his presence was no longer useful, due to certain facts which have recently come to light. Now, now, don't look so stricken. We really had no other choice. How were we to know you planned to return to us?"

Kitty's heart sank.

"You killed him," she whispered.

"I'm afraid so. Your valiant sacrifice has sadly gone to waste. Unfortunately, the payment we agreed upon must still be exacted. We can't let a magician as dangerous as yourself loose, you understand." Without turning, Werfel addressed the man behind him. "Samir, if you will." He called.

Kitty struggled violently as Samir clamped down on her shoulders, preventing her escape.

"In fact," Werfel continued, "Your little predicament may be of great use to our higher goals."

"I'll never cooperate with you," Kitty spat. Werfel chuckled.

"Fortunately, your cooperation has little to do with our plan," He said. He began to pace pensively back and forth in front of her. "You see, Ms. Jones, our little society has always held one particular aim. Many of us are simple common folk from magical countries, who have suffered unfairly at the hands of the magicians. We refuse to suffer any longer. Yes, the British Empire has fallen, but how long until the next empire arises from its ashes? Magic has not ended. You know this Kitty Jones; I can see it in your eyes."

Kitty couldn't meet his gaze. She had devoted a great portion of her life to finding a way to break the cycle of history. Was Werfel right? Had she failed to change anything? Werfel continued.

"And so," He said, changing tone, "Our group was founded. We disaffected souls have committed ourselves to addressing the problem of magic right its heart. If we succeed in destroying the spirits of the Other Place, magicians will no longer have a source of power. Our task has been long and wearisome. At times it has seemed as though we would never be able to make the slightest dent in the ranks of the djinn. In fact, as untrained commoners, we had no way to destroy demons at all. That is, until we discovered this marvelous pentacle."

Werfel gestured to the Oracle's ancient pentacle, carved into the very stones beneath their feet. Perhaps Kitty's imagination was heightened by the intensity of her fear, but it felt as though something was radiating from those crude symbols. Some long forgotten power, newly awoken and infinitely dangerous.

Werfel noticed her apprehension, his face twisting into an expression of smug pleasure.

"Ah, you can sense its power," He said, "It is an old magic, that much we know. Somehow, this pentacle allowed us to perform great feats of magic, using only the simplest of commands. Djinn could be destroyed, even without any disobedience on their parts. And with a few simple preparations, we shall be able to use its power to accomplish our objective in one great blow. That is where you come in my dear."

Kitty scowled.

"I have no idea what you are talking about," She said.

"Ms. Jones, you serve as a channel between our world and the one beyond. Using the magic of this pentacle, we shall be able to draw forth, through you, the energies of the demon realm and collapse it, destroying the demons and their abode in one swift stroke! The Other Place will be gone, cutting off magicians from their source of magic, and all earthbound djinn from their place of rest. I'm afraid that we will be forced to kill you to facilitate the processes, but you can rest easy knowing that your sacrifice will serve the greater good."

"You're mad!" Kitty shrieked, "You want to destroy the Other Place? The Spirits aren't to blame for being enslaved to the magicians! They don't deserve to die!" She thought of Bartimaeus, probably searching frantically for her this very moment. What would happen to him if he could never return home? After years and years of agonizing life on Earth, would he just wither away?

Werfel shook his head.

"Now, now Ms. Jones," He said, speaking as though she were a small child in need of instruction, "This isn't about who deserves to die and who doesn't. This is about what's best for civilization. It's a higher goal."

"Who gives you the right to decide what's best for civilization?" She exclaimed incredulously. Werfel ignored her.

"Samir, please keep Ms. Jones somewhere safe while we prepare for the incantation. We wouldn't want to lose her now, would we?"

Kitty cried out as Samir tugged her roughly out of the room.

"Don't think I've forgotten our little feud," Samir hissed in her ear as he marched her back down the rocky mountain path, "You're going to regret that stunt in the desert."

Samir pulled open the door of a worn stone outbuilding and shoved her inside.

"Try and escape, and I'll kill you," He said, slamming the door behind him. Kitty could hear the clatter of loose rock as he settled onto the ground outside the door. No escaping then.

Kitty paced back and forth within her makeshift prison cell. There were no windows, no obvious exits aside from the one Samir guarded. She was trapped here.

With a scream of frustration, Kitty sank to the floor. Mr. Button had been killed, Bartimaeus was doomed, and the Other Place was as good as gone. How had everything gone so horribly wrong?

She looked doubtfully at her shoelaces, wondering if she could somehow use them to strangle herself. If she died now before Werfel could complete whatever ritual he needed to complete, at least the Other Place would be safe. She was halfway through unstringing her left shoe when an angry voice caught her ear.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" Samir's voice was muffled by the heavy door. There was a thump and a muffled curse.

"Come back here!" Samir called out. Kitty could hear the sounds of two sets of feet scrambling over the stony ground. There was a moment of silence. Suddenly the door crashed open with a resounding bang.

There was Bartimaeus, silhouetted against the bright daylight. Kitty had never been so relieved in her entire life.

She wrapped her arms around him, pressing her face into his neck.

"Kitty, you're alright!" The djinni exclaimed.

"Bartimaeus!" Kitty sobbed, "They've killed Button, and they're going to destroy the Other Place somehow! And Samir's alive–"

"I wouldn't worry about him," Bartimaeus interrupted, "Rebecca is leading dearest Samir on a bit of a wild goose chase. Rather irresponsible of him to leave you locked up here all by yourself, wouldn't you say?"

Kitty sobbed harder in response. Bartimaeus patted her back awkwardly.

"It's going to be okay," He said, "We'll get you back to London, and this will all blow over."

"I should have listened to you," She whispered, "But no, I had to be the hero…"

"You can't help being noble, Kitty," Said Bartimaeus.

Kitty looked up, surprised by the compliment. Bartimaeus met her eyes solemnly. She felt a sudden warm joy that he was here, alive. That he had come back for her. She leaned in slowly, as though caught in a current drawing her towards him. Her eyes drifted shut, and then–

"The prisoner is loose!" Yelled a voice, jolting Kitty out of whatever spell she'd been under.

From her position by the doorway, Kitty could see a handful of guards sprinting down the slope towards them. One held something small, round, and glowing clenched in his fist. Kitty's eyes boggled.

"Bartimaeus! It's–" But she was too late.

The guard hurled the elemental sphere towards them. The glass orb whistled through the air and shattered at their feet. A concussion of molten energy knocked Kitty off her feet and blinded her with its light. Waves of burning fire and icy water burst over her in a maelstrom of conflicting magic, and Kitty knew no more.

The young guard waited till the smoke and steam had cleared before venturing into the shallow crater his weapon had left behind. He picked his way across the jagged earth, finally reaching the small figure sprawled out, alone, on the ground. Behind him, his comrades followed, stumbling over the uneven turf.

The guard looked down at the limp form of the unconscious girl. She looked vulnerable. Even out cold, her face was tense with pain and weakness. He prodded her feeble body with one foot.

"Wasn't there another one?" He said absently to his companions behind him.

"Coward must have got away," One man sneered, "No matter, she's the one we need."

With a dismissive shrug, the first guard slung Kitty's body over his shoulder and climbed up the temple path. Above them Herman Werfel stood waiting, ready for the girl's sacrifice to complete his ritual.