Chapter 47

Ptolemy

Having died when he was fourteen years old, Ptolemy had never known what it really meant to be in love. He understood that now. Thanks to Kitty, he knew what it felt like to love and be loved. Ptolemy felt a warm fuzzy feeling somewhere in the center of his chest.

Ptolemy held Kitty nearer and just sat there with her, thanking the gods for her and Bartimaeus. Without them Ptolemy wouldn't be here at all. And he wanted to be now. He wasn't upset about being resurrected anymore, he was thankful for it. Through Kitty, he was learning something new every day.

The kiss was the only part that really threw him off. It was everything he ever imagined; everything he'd ever wanted. But he couldn't help but feel odd. Part of him felt fine and inclined for more, but the other part felt that he was doing something wrong. Part of him enjoyed the kiss, whilst the other part felt uncomfortable. That was why he felt so odd. Now that he thought about it, the kiss was making his mind and body go haywire. Perhaps the kiss was a bad thing. But why would it be? He got the girl of his dreams to kiss him. What was so wrong about that? He wasn't sure. The more he thought about it, the more doubts raised. Ptolemy reasoned that it was better not to fight his emotions.

Love is a confusing thing.

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As the sun's final rays disappeared beyond the horizon, the only thing that crossed Ptolemy's mind was the kiss. He enjoyed it, but something else was telling him…something. It's just a kiss. Ptolemy told himself. But he couldn't come to believe it. In his own feelings, it was more then that. But how could a kiss be more then a kiss? Well, then again…a kiss could be a sort of love and then it could be another. One type was like from Mother to Daughter, and the other type was plain love. Actual love. Between two unrelated people. But the second one…It was more complicated then the first. It was hard to explain, but easy to experience. So, was he really in love, or was he experiencing something simpler? That was the question.

"Difficult." Ptolemy mouthed the word as he looked around and studied a random object. Kitty sat in his arms, silently pulling herself back together.

Kitty let go of Ptolemy and looked him in the eyes. She had pulled away from him now, wiping the tears from her eyes. "I hate crying," she told him as she continued on for another moment. When she was done, she looked into Ptolemy's eyes and just stared into them, as though she was being lost in them.

Both were silent for a long moment, thinking things over. The silence was broken when Jane howled downstairs and began battering against the walls of her prison.

"She's hungry." Kitty said aloud, breaking through the eerie sounds. "And loosing control. We have to hurry, and get her away from the window before she gets away."

"There aren't any windows in the bathroom." A foreign voice answered her. Kitty and Ptolemy looked to the source of the voice.

"Bartimaeus!" Kitty said happily. She stood. Ptolemy followed after her.

"You sound…oddly happy. Are you okay? Did I miss something?"

Kitty shook her head. "You didn't miss anything. And I'm fine. Can we go downstairs now? Did you find anything for Farrar?"

Bartimaeus nodded. "All the mythical stuff. But I don't think it'll work, seeing as she's been this way for so long."

"We have to try anyway," Ptolemy broke in between them. "We promised her we'd do our best."

Bartimaeus looked over to him, nodded. "Still, I'm not exactly sure it'll work…"

"You're five thousand and some odd years old and you don't know how to cure a werewolf?" Kitty asked playfully as she folded her arms.

"It also depends on how long she's been this way. And I'll have you know I'm five thousand twenty-four!"

"Then how long has it been since I've seen you last?" Ptolemy again broke in.

Bartimaeus again turned to him. "2,134 years, 7 months, 20 days, 10,340,09 seconds to the time I saw you again." He had answered without thinking. Ptolemy was impressed. Rekhyt had kept track of his death right down to the seconds. It was amazing what a djinni could do.

"You've been keeping track, down to the last second? Wow…" His voice drifted off when he saw a tall hairy figure looming behind Rekhyt. He felt his face drop all emotion as he continued to stare.

Rekhyt seemed to notice and turned around to look at what Ptolemy saw. "Werewolf!" He shouted as he dodged an attempted blow. "Kitty, Ptolemy, get over in a corner or something. Don't let her cut you!" Rekhyt held Jane's wolf hands in hers and tried to force her back.

"I'm not leaving you," Ptolemy and Kitty told him in unison. Rekhyt growled as Jane pinned him to the floor. He quickly regained control when he blasted Jane with a powerful Denotation. She went flying to the ceiling. Rekhyt took his opportunity and ran.

"Too bad!" He shouted to them. "I'm not going to give her any chances! And I'm defiantly not going to let you two get hurt! Go!" Kitty gave Ptolemy what he thought to have been a signal. The two of them ran out of the room and closed the door behind them.

"What do we do now?" Ptolemy asked Kitty. "We can't just leave Rekhyt!"

Kitty nodded. "You're right. We have to help him. But how…?" Her voice drifted off in thought. She looked around, moaned in wary despair when an idea came to her. "C'mon Ptolemy, I've got an idea." She began to walk away. Ptolemy quickly followed after her.

Ever since the kiss, Ptolemy found he wasn't as nervous around Kitty as he was before. He dubbed that as a good thing.

Kitty brought him to what looked like a kitchen. Ptolemy dubbed it to be so since it looked like the kitchen he had seen at Kitty's house. This one, however, was far more elegant. There was an island in the middle with a sink and small stove connected to it. Behind the stove was the actual part of the kitchen, another stove and another refrigerator. There were cabinets, another sink, knives, and other things. This particular kitchen looked as though it were meant to be used for show rather then cooking.

Kitty picked up a knife, a really big one, too. Ptolemy stared at it as it glittered and reflected the light. It was the only real thing in this kitchen he knew from his old lifetime. This was the instrument that was used for his attempted murders thousands of years ago. Ptolemy could feel himself shudder at its sight. "Why do we need that?" He asked her.

"Two things. One; it's silver. Werewolves are like djinn when it comes to allergies. They're both allergic to silver. Second thing; my plan."

"And…what's your plan?"

Kitty motioned for him to follow her as she walked away. She brought him back to the site of the dead body she had stumbled into before. She bent down, pulled the string. Again the body came down from its hiding place. The flies scattered again, but this time both Ptolemy and Kitty were ready for them. They weren't as startled as they were before.

Kitty took hold of the body and pulled it down onto the floor. Scrunching up her nose as she bent down near it, she removed the shirt. Ptolemy himself scrunched up his face in disgust. "What are you planning to do what that?"

Kitty readied the knife, answered. "Every time Farrar's wolf side took over and murdered, it left behind the heart. Why? Because it's the law of the werewolves. Don't ask why or how that law was made—I don't know. In her weakened state, the human side of her won't be able to control the wolf side. So…" She drifted off.

"We're going to lure her somewhere with a human heart," Ptolemy finished off for her, glum in his voice. "But wait, how would that work? The law says she's not allowed to touch the human heart."

"Exactly. That rule becomes void when she becomes a full wolf—to the point where she can no longer alternate between bodies. Most don't get this far, but I think Farrar's well on her way. I'm planning to help her to that final stage. When she caves and goes for the heart, we'll barricade her into a closet or something."

"That won't hold her long."

"I know. But it'll buy us more time." Ptolemy nodded. Kitty sighed, looked down to the body. "You might not wanna look if you're squeamish." Ptolemy knew it was best for him to look away, but he couldn't bring himself to. He watched—with some interest—as Kitty gently placed the knife at the person's chest, then dragged it down to just below the ribs, severing the skin and going deep into the body. Kitty took the two sides of the ripped flesh, tore them apart. The sound of it ripping was worse then the sight. It made Ptolemy's skin crawl. As wont of a dead body, it didn't bleed. Everything in it was silent, lifeless.

Ptolemy watched in amazement as Kitty tore through the body. He never witnessed a mummification, so he never saw what his insides looked like. They were nothing special, just grey, red, brown, and yellow blobs of matter. It was a good thing the Ba did all the thinking and not the Ka! How could those simple ugly blobs of matter function the Ka properly? But, according to those who specialized in mummification, there were four important…blobs of matter out of the body. The liver, both intestines, and the heart. These were the blobs of matter that really mattered.

But, snapping back to reality, Ptolemy watched as Kitty picked and identified the heart, began to cut the—cords?—that were attached to it. She scrunched up her face in disgust as she continued on. When the last cord was cut, Kitty set the knife down, pulled out the heart. She stood, faced Ptolemy. "Hopefully this works." She said to him, her voice full of doubt.

"And if it doesn't?" He asked.

She sighed. "Then we're in trouble." She was silent for a moment, studying the heart. She collected the knife, handed it to him. "Keep this with you in case anything happens. Let's go." She finished firmly, tightly closing her hand around the heart. Ptolemy nodded in what he hoped would look like confidence and took the knife.

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A/n

How's that for gross and gory after the lovey scene? I feel content with myself…