Chapter 12: The Ritual
By Conception.Creation
Disclaimer: The Bartimaeus Trilogy is the property of Jonathan Stroud
A/N: Much love to those who reviewed. I can't tell you how excited I was to receive an unprecedented four reviews for the last chapter! This next chapter is short, but hopefully still enjoyable.
Kitty's head lolled back and forth as her lifeless form was borne up the hill. Several guards followed in solemn procession, gripping their weapons tighter and keeping a watchful eye out for their two missing foes. At the temple gate, Werfel stood watching their progress, his expression victorious.
"The girl tried to escape, but we captured her," said the man carrying Kitty. He flung her limp body to the dusty ground at Werfel's feet.
"Good work," Said Werfel, crouching down to inspect the helpless girl. He gently slapped the sides of her face. "Wake up Ms. Jones," He commanded.
A pained moan escaped Kitty's lips as she began to come around. Her breathing became shallower and more erratic, then her eyes fluttered opened as she gazed blearily up at Werfel's face.
"Bartimaeus?" She mumbled.
"Not quite," Werfel said, a wry smile ghosting across his face. He leaned in even closer. Kitty stared at him, wide-eyed. "You seem a bit disoriented my dear. I really think you may be concussed. I would recommend seeing a physician, except that you will be dead within the hour nonetheless." Werfel's smile lengthened.
Suddenly he stood.
"Bring her to the pentacle; we have wasted enough time already." He commanded.
Rough hands grabbed Kitty's arms and forced her to her feet. She was propelled through the temple courtyard and into the dark interior. Inside, she could make out the gentle pulsing glow of the Pentacle of the Oracle, its aura of power so great that it hung in the stagnant air, like a repulsive smell.
On the floor around the pentacle, sprigs of rosemary and rowan lay scattered haphazardly. Long, thin, candles burned at even intervals along the edge of the pentacle. Werfel's followers were gathered around the ancient runes in a half circle. They stared back at Kitty with blank faces.
Someone stepped from the crowd, bearing a thick length of cord in one hand. He pulled Kitty's hands behind her back and secured them tightly, before pushing her out into the centre of the pentacle. Kitty stumbled, but remained standing, glaring defiantly at her captors.
Werfel crossed the line of runes, coming to stand beside Kitty. He turned to address his fellows.
"My friends, join me now as we end an eternity of subjugation," He shouted, "At last the wicked shall be destroyed, and our lands will once again be filled with peace! With the death of this magician, all magic shall die forever, and we shall be free!"
There was a burst of applause around the room. A few gleeful cheers rang out. Werfel held up a hand.
"And now we do our solemn duty," he said as the clapping died away. He raised his arms, as though conducting an unseen orchestra.
The observers joined hands and slowly began to chant the words of a spell. Kitty stood rooted in place, transfixed by the shadowy sea of faces surrounding her. Something glinted in Werfel's hand as he took a step closer towards her. It was a simple knife made of pure gold.
Werfel raised the knife. Its sickly yellow blade shone in the flickering candlelight. The frenzied chanting intensified as it arced down, towards the girl's vulnerable heart.
Kitty cried out as it met its mark, sinking hilt deep into her chest. The girl crumpled to the floor, her head striking the flagstones with a resounding smack. She lay sprawled out, unmoving, in the centre of the pentacle.
Werfel stood over the girl's lifeless body, his face contorted into an expression of pure triumph. The spell climaxed. The chanters fell silent.
They waited motionless around the pentacle, breaths held, listening for some kind of apocalyptic roar as an entire universe collapsed.
All was silent.
"Why isn't it working?" Asked a hushed voice, whispered from amongst the ranks of silent watchers.
Suddenly, Kitty stirred. They watched in frozen horror as the pale girl slowly mounted to her feet. She turned towards Werfel, snapping her bonds as easily as though they were cobwebs. Her face broke into a monstrous grin.
Werfel took a timid step back, holding his knife outstretched before him in one shaky hand. Kitty's teeth gleamed eerily in the gloom of the temple.
"What are you?" Werfel cried out.
The girl laughed a deep, hair-raising chuckle that certainly did not belong to Kathleen Jones, or any other Earthly being for that matter.
As the laughter reverberated through the room, Kitty's face began to change. Her round face and nose melted away to reveal different, sharper, features. The silvery hair grew shorter and darker, and the pale skin took on the healthy tan of a native Egyptian. Only the eerie Cheshire grin remained the same, bright white teeth shining out from the triumphant face of Ptolemy.
Damn, I'm good.
I bet I had you there, didn't I? You thought I'd jumped ship and left Kitty to fend for herself? Honestly, I'm insulted!
After the explosion, I'd taken Kitty's form and allowed myself to be captured. I only hoped the girl had taken advantage of the opportunity to escape.
Okay, okay, maybe it was a bit of an unusual decision for me. Maybe I wouldn't have done the same for just anyone. Well, you never know, maybe I would have. I think I've been softening a bit recently… Kitty does that to you. Nevertheless, judging from the angry faces around me, I would not be around for all these nice ponderings much longer.
Werfel tossed his golden blade to the floor. He snatched an honest silver weapon from the man beside him and leveled it at my head. Let me tell you, there's something about silver that makes even the frailest little old man seem like a formidable adversary. I can't say I was afraid per se, what I felt was more like resignation.
"Where is the girl?" Werfel hissed. I shrugged. I really didn't know at this point, and of course I wouldn't have told him if I had.
"You are of no use to me," Werfel said, "Goodbye, demon." He pulled back his arm in preparation for the strike.
So this was it, then.