Hello, my lovely readers.
I'm so sorry I haven't updated this story in FOREVER, but I have many activities keeping me busy (school being at the forefront of them.) Additionally, I'm mainly focusing my writing efforts on my novel (which I'm rewriting for the second time -sigh-), so both my fanfictions have been kind of ignored. Therefore, I'm putting my other fanfiction, Second Life, Cahill Style, on hiatus, and I'll try to update this at least once a month.
Without further ado, the chapter you've all been waiting for.
FIVE
Something prodded his side. A voice drifted into Nathaniel's pounding head. Why did it hurt so much? "…he's not dead, for the millionth time. Next time you ask I will make you dead."
"You can't do that! I am a fourteenth level djinni, Bartimaeus of Uruk-"
"Oh, shut up, Bartimaeus. Remember, I'm still your mistress."
"Master. You're my master. Mistress sounds so…dirty."
A moment of silence ensued. Nathaniel lay motionless, eyes still closed, ignoring the throbbing in his skull. A girl, and a…a demon? No, he's not a demon, he's…
Oh, right. The djinni is Bartimaeus and the girl is…Kitty.
Suddenly Nathaniel remembered the events of the previous night and immediately wished he hadn't. Stupid Bartimaeus, poking around in a magician's business. He felt a sudden urge to sock the djinni in the face and clenched his fist.
Kitty's hand, which had been lying on the bed next to Nathaniel after poking him, tensed. "Bartimaeus…I think Nathaniel's waking up."
"Well, it's about time, that lazy-boned-" There was a noise that sounded vaguely like a hand being clapped over a mouth.
Nathaniel carefully opened his eyes. "Ow…my head."
Bartimaeus scowled at him. "You sleep in until ten and you don't even say good morning?"
Nathaniel sighed. He didn't have the strength to argue with the djinni today. In fact, every ounce of the little strength he had had last night seemed to be gone. "Bartimaeus, I really don't feel like arguing with you, okay? I'm tired, I can barely move, and my head feels like a bomb went off in it."
"Nathaniel...that doesn't sound too good..." Kitty hovered over him, concern written all over her face.
"I - I think I'll be okay, though." With great effort, he propped himself up into a sitting position. "See? I can sit up."
"Your face has gone all pale, and you're sweating," observed Bartimaeus. "Oh yeah, and your arms are shaking."
"Shut up," growled Nathaniel, trying desperately and failing to steady his trembling muscles. He pushed himself to the edge of his bed and fumbled his feet into their shoes. Mustering his little strength, he put his weight onto one leg, preparing to stand. It wobbled and collapsed, dumping him back onto his bed. It was a small motion, but Kitty was watching him the whole time.
"Nathaniel, I really don't think you should..." She placed a firm hand on his shoulder.
Nathaniel bit his lip fiercely. He would not appear weak in front of Kitty.
Since when did Kitty's opinion matter to you?
It's because she was always the good one! I'm trying to prove that I can be a good person too!
By making yourself get up?
Yes!
Oh, and Bartimaeus's little "talk" with you didn't have anything to do with it?
Why was he even arguing with himself? Shaking his head, Nathaniel forced himself to his feet. His vision immediately began blurring and he tipped to the right. He would have fallen if a pair of arms hadn't caught him and helped him upright. "Steady there, Natty boy," Bartimaeus's low voice said in his ear.
"I can stand by myself!"
"No, you can't, dumbo. Did Underwood teach you anything about listening to your bodily signals? Or dear Ms. Whitwell? No? Pity. Let me give it to you slow, Nat. You're sick and in no state to be out and about."
To be honest, none of his masters or tutors had taught him much about body functions. He had to find that information out himself from health textbooks.
"I don't! Well, maybe I do. A little. Still, do you want me to let go of you right now?"
"No..."
"Good. Are you sure you want to get out of bed and do all those human things like eating and reading?"
"Quite sure."
"You're an idiot."
"So I'm told."
Bartimaeus sighed. "If I didn't owe you for saving my life -"
"You don't."
"Whatever." Nathaniel found himself slung over the back of the djinni's gargoyle form. Said gargoyle left Nathaniel's bedroom, flew down the hallway, and flipped over the railing of the landing.
A pounding of frantic footsteps followed them. "Bartimaeus!" Kitty shouted from the top of the stairs, gripping the railing and leaning over it. "That's dangerous."
"You don't say," mumbled Nathaniel. The sudden drop had left his stomach roiling and his head dizzy. Very dizzy.
The djinni poked him a few times, making him wince. Bartimaeus called up to Kitty, "Nat's fine. A bit dizzy and nauseous, to be sure. No real harm done."
Nathaniel groaned and sat down on the bottom step, his hands falling limply to his sides. "Bartimaeus?"
"Yes, O former master?"
"Don't do that again."
Bartimaeus pursed his lips, now back in his regular boy form. "Do you not like flying?"
"I've never liked flying."
"Oh? Is that why your face turns such lovely shades of green whenever you fly?"
"Yes, Bartimaeus."
"All right. I'll try to remember that in the future. Now, off to breakfast!"
"Bartimaeus, don't tell me you're going to flyyyyyyyy! Eep!"
"I think Kitty likes it when you 'eep.'"
"Be quiet, Bartimaeus."
"It is pretty cute, I admit..."
"Bartimaeus."
"After all, it's not every day that the great and mighty magician John Mandrake 'eeps' like a kid."
"Bartimaeus. Shut. Up."
"It's not my fault you 'eep' every time you fly!"
"I can't focus, Bartimaeus..."
"Oh, hurrah! I've disrupted your concentration!"
Nathaniel groaned and buried his face into the pages of the book. He was trying to do research on corrupt magicians, but his head was still a mess and Bartimaeus wasn't helping it at all.
Although, technically speaking, all magicians were corrupt...
"So, Nat, what have you found so far?" Sitting cross-legged on top of Nathaniel's desk, the djinni placed his palms on the wood and leaned forward.
"Nothing you don't know already." Nathaniel edged away from him slightly.
Bartimaeus beamed, shoving his face even farther into Nathaniel's. "Being a five-thousand-year-old djinni really pays off sometimes! You learn so many things."
Nathaniel scowled and raised his hands to push the djinni's fake head to a safe distance away. "Apparently, personal space is not one of them."
Bartimaeus looked miffed. "Personal space doesn't apply to a shapeshifting djinni!"
Nathaniel groaned and pressed his fingers into his aching temples. "Bartimaeus, can you shapeshift yourself somewhere else?"
The djinni blew him a raspberry but kept quiet. Nathaniel leafed through the pages, glad for a respite from the constant nagging. Tyler Freeman...Miller Fuller...William Gladstone...
William Gladstone? Gladstone, the hero of Nathaniel's magician life, was in an index of corrupted magicians?
He hurried to check the author of the book. On the solid purple cover were three initials in black: C.T.M. He opened to the author's note.
...C.T.M stands for Commoners' Truth of Magicians. We are a group of people dedicated to finding the truth about magicians, not just what they tell us. In this book...
Nathaniel frowned and ran a hand through his hair, trying to remember why he had purchased this book in the first place. Surely his magician self would have arrested the vendors on the spot.
Clarity came. He hadn't bought it at all, but had been resting on a park bench when he saw the book lying on the pavement. Intrigued by the title, he had taken it home but never gotten around to reading it.
Now he was glad the book had been forgotten. Otherwise, he might not have this valuable asset. Turning the pages to the section about William Gladstone, he began to read.
While William Gladstone is one of the most well-respected British magicians of all time, few know just how corrupt he was. Because he had such great magical power, he was able to bribe many into helping him climb to the top.
But perhaps the most shocking fact is this: In one of Gladstone's recently discovered journals (carefully hidden by the government, of course), he writes about his experiments in summoning spirits from the Other Place and absorbing their powers. Since our resources are limited, we cannot prove the credibility of this statement. However, if it is true, then it certainly would explain why Gladstone was so hard to defeat...
Nathaniel shut the book, already throbbing head now spinning. William Gladstone, whom he had admired for so long, had possibly been tormenting spirits to gain power? A few years ago he might not have thought much of it, but now he felt nauseous. Did Gladstone really not deserve his power? It was stolen, wasn't it?
Power. Why were magicians always after power? Was there simply something in that process of concealing one's true self that brought greed to the top?
"Lots of questions?" Nathaniel picked his head up out of his hands and realized that Bartimaeus was staring at him (and probably had been for the last ten minutes.) Ptolemy's form had his head tilted slightly, brows creased in a rare display of concern. Yet it hadn't been the djinni who had spoken...
"Nathaniel, are you all right?" Kitty's hand dropped gently onto his shoulder. He felt the tips of her hair brush against his skin lightly where his neck met his shoulder; a faint tingle ran down his spine, but not out of fear or dismay.
A sudden wave of pulsing agony washed through his mind, dizzying him. Nathaniel slumped against his desk. Dimly he heard Kitty and Bartimaeus's shouts of alarm before all faded into a colorless void.
LAAAA! And there is the end of the chapter. I'll try to update as soon as possible, but in the meantime...reviews?