Chapter 43

Ptolemy

The man known as George ran out of the building and dismissed Rekhyt. Both were gone now. Everything was quiet.

Ptolemy walked over to Kitty and knelt down beside her. He was woozy for some reason, but he willed the feeling away. Kitty was more important. Ptolemy examined her. Her body was lifeless; she wasn't moving at all. Ptolemy's heart began to race. Had George killed Kitty? And if so, what was Ptolemy going to do all on his lonesome? Kitty had never kept her records of how to summon—or resurrect—the dead, so he'd be all alone. Except, unless, he summoned Rekhyt. But what could the two of them do? Without Kitty they were helpless. Ptolemy checked for Kitty's pulse, praying to Ra that it'd be there.

Ptolemy sighed with relief. It was weak, but it was there. Kitty was going to live. Rekhyt must've saved her while he was busy with George. Kitty coughed new air into her lungs, slowly opened her eyes. "Ptolemy?" She said weakly, as though she was being woken from a deep sleep. "Oy," She rubbed her head. "What happened?" She tried to sit up, but Ptolemy stopped her. He rested his hand on her shoulder. She studied him for a moment, laid back down.

"You were fighting with George," he answered her softly. "He almost choked you to death. It's a good thing Rekhyt and I were here. Rekhyt saved you."

"Right. Where's he now?"

"Rekhyt? George dismissed him shortly after he ran off."

Kitty nodded, stayed silent. After a minute or two, she spoke up. "C'mon, Ptolemy, you can't tell me you didn't do anything while you were down here."

Ptolemy's cheeks got hot. "I didn't do anything," he insisted. This was pretty much the first time he'd ever saved someone else's life without the help of a djinni.

Kitty smiled. "That's why you're bleeding, right?"

"What?" That would've explained that woozy feeling and that warm ooze dripping down his face on the left side, a few inches above the ear.

"C'mon, let's go get cleaned up." Ptolemy allowed Kitty to stand, helped her up. She swayed for a moment, quickly regained her balance. "Follow me." She started to walk away. Ptolemy quickly followed after her.

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Ptolemy followed Kitty to some sort of bathroom. But everything was so…different then what he was accustomed to.

The thing that Kitty called the 'toilet' was a weird circle with a rectangle attached to its back. That rectangle thing had a sort of silver handle on it which was pushed down.

The thing that Kitty called a 'sink' was another rectangle thing. But it was connected to the wall. Underneath it was a tangled cylindrical shape that went from the sink wall. On top of the 'sink' were two silver things; two handles and one dispenser. 'Faucet', as Kitty called it.

Everything in this time was so odd.

Kitty grabbed a cloth and turned one of the handles on the 'sink'. Water poured out of the faucet! Amazing! Kitty wet the cloth, turned the handle the opposite way she originally did, squeezed out excess water from the cloth. She turned to Ptolemy. "This may sting a little," she warned.

Ptolemy nodded and readied himself. Kitty gently placed her right fingers on his left cheek and put the cloth on his cut. She was right; it stung. "Ah!" Ptolemy grunted. He didn't let anything else escape his mouth; he couldn't let Kitty see how weak he was.

"I told you it was going to sting," Kitty responded softly; her voice as soft as a mother's with a newborn baby. She removed the cloth, flipped it over to a clean side, dabbed it at the cut again. It must've been deeper then Ptolemy thought; he hardly felt it, though. This time it didn't sting as much.

Kitty repeated this another two times, then simply dabbed the wound repidedly.

"There," She said finally, her voice still soft…Nurturing. "Done."

Ptolemy brought his hand up to where the cut was, felt it, brought his fingers down back to his face, studied them. He had stopped bleeding and the cut didn't hurt. "Thanks," He made sure to show his gratitude. Kitty nodded and smiled. "What do we do now?"

"Summon Bartimaeus," was the simple answer.

"We can't stay here," Ptolemy told her. Yes, he told himself. state the obvious.

"That's true. But where else would we go?"

"We only know one other magician."

"Farrar!"

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When Ptolemy changed, the two of them set out for Jane Farrar's estate.

Kitty looked straight, her eyes never straying from their path. Ptolemy, however, couldn't help but look over to her. He couldn't get her out of his mind. As he thought about it, he found a name for the feeling: Love. He had hoped the two of them could be together, and they could now. He was a real person again. But then again, he was always a real person. No one had known it, though. So the two of them could've been together all along.

Ptolemy hoped that they would be one day. But he doubted it. Rekhyt was as protective as ever. But Ptolemy didn't mind. To see one person die for you when you knew you could save their life must've been pretty hard.

Rekhyt was the family Ptolemy never knew. Rekhyt and Kitty. Rekhyt was like a brother, and maybe even a father to him. Kitty was like a sister and a mother. Both were there to protect him, but there were also there to keep him in check. They protected him with their live. Rekhyt with his some five-thousand-year-old experience, and Kitty with her knowledge of defense, survival, moving on. Both had so much to offer him.

But what did Ptolemy have to offer them? Slim to nothing. Maybe knowledge from the books he'd read, but reading something in the theoretical world and actually living it in the real world were two entirely different things. He was hardly useful to them.

As though she could read his thoughts, Kitty spoke to him. "Ptolemy, I'm glad you're here. I'm glad I resurrected you instead of summoning you."

Ptolemy smiled. "What's so great about me?"

"I don't know. But I like you. A lot. You're the best magician I've ever known."

Ptolemy's cheeks got hot. "Thanks."

"Bartimaeus said you never used discipline. Ever."

"I didn't. I told him my birth name, too."

"Which is Ptolemy, right?"

Ptolemy nodded. "When I first summoned Bartimaeus, I felt I could confine everything about myself in him." He stopped for a moment. "And names mean little to me, so it never really mattered anyway."

"That's why you call Bartimaeus 'Rekhyt'?"

"That's right."

Kitty fell silent. Ptolemy resumed she was thinking about something. He let her alone; he knew she had a lot to think about.

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Finally, after a long walk, Kitty had found the place. Ptolemy studied it. It was the same as before. It was a wide building. It had a wide staircase leading up to it that rivaled—almost beat—the one of the Alexandrian library.

Kitty sat down on the steps and looked up to him. She rested for a moment, gestured for him to sit down with her. With some nervousness, he sat on her right side.

"Don't your feet hurt?" She asked him with a playful smile.

Ptolemy waited for a moment, listening to the messages his legs were sending to him. At first there was nothing, but then his legs exploded with pain.

"Now that I'm off them!" He shouted playfully.

Kitty laughed. "Same here. Do you realize how far we've walked?" Ptolemy shook his head. "At least two miles."

"I'm not familiar with your system of measurement, but I'm guessing that's a long while."

Kitty nodded. "It is." She sighed; let her arms drop onto her thighs. "So," she breathed. "Ready to talk to the animal?"

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A/n

(Sighs) Wow, here I am…writing this fic…for you people…Yeah…Next chapter Kitty.