Well, I did say I sucked at regular updates… Sorry. But, this one's big AF, so maybe that'll make up for it. ;)

As usual, many thanks for the reviews, and some extra special love to anjumstar for the multiple rounds of questions and debating various points with me. I know she prefers cookies to cake, but she still deserves love, guys. (I'm kidding. We shouldn't let such prejudices divide us.)

Chapter Four

the murmur of the land

Bartimaeus

The rubble had all been cleared away, the fires doused, but the grass still shone with glass.

The Glass Palace stood no more. In its place was a darkened circle of infertile dirt. The air remained hostile, carrying the smell of sulphur, ash, and death. Human eyes wouldn't catch the slow swirling of colourful particles in the air, lifting off the ground and disappearing into the sky. But humans kept well away from the epicentre of the explosion, as did most spirits. A few bigger spots of light floated about within the perimeter of destruction.

The wind brought rumours of a big statue in white marble–a magician standing tall against the dangerous foes, yielding a powerful wooden staff and risking his precious life to save the world from eradication.

How noble.

Perched atop a half-burnt London plane, a small crow surveyed the scene on all seven planes, simultaneously attempting to scratch an itch just over its beak. (1) Reluctantly, the crow opened its wings and began its descent to the dirt. There the characteristic smell of magic was stronger—thick with energy, as if a power plant had exploded right in the epicentre of this sad scenery and electrified the air. It was slightly suffocating.

(1) I feel like we've come full circle with this guise, so your human minds may relax and get back to what matters: the pleasure of reading my story.

The crow jumped around on its pencil-thin legs, head down, apparently plucking tiny seeds from the ground. It stayed away from a circle faintly drawn on the ground. The fiery squids that had gathered around the outer line of destruction drifted about impassively. They sighed in longing, their cores pulsing in a coloured mirroring of the airborne particles. (2)

(2) Will-o'-the-wisps may be some of the most insignificant creatures on the universe (and ranked right over humans to boot), but their primal instincts are quite interesting, especially at night. That is, if you're into observing them go about their lives.

A Shield had been cast here, there was no doubt about that. With that much energy still spinning around in the air a month after, and the will-o'-the-wisps lingering about, it had been a potent one. That did indeed explain how the brat had survived an entire palace and Nouda falling on him. My theory wasn't proving to be so unbelievable and impossible after all.

The skies shifted. The last rays of sunlight shied away behind grey clouds that accumulated into a dense, looming mass. A low rumble sounded far away. The squids began to move more restlessly. Some looked for shelter in or on trees. The condensation levels told me all I needed to know.

The crow was gone just before the first drop of rain hit the ground.

It'd been three eternities and a half since this keeping guard nonsense started. Kitty came back every day as promised, usually with Piper in tow, who seemed to be trying to carry all the paper left in London by herself. And you know me, I'm not one to judge another's hobbies, but I don't think Mother Nature would have liked to commune with Piper past this point. Maybe Mother Nature would curse Piper with horrible tea leaves for all eternity, or maybe even get in some poisoned ones in the batch if she was considered a major threat. (3)

(3) Look, all I'm saying is that you shouldn't play with forces whose powers you do not fully comprehend, like Mother Nature, myself, and tea leaves.

Dr Elgar came by every day as well, taking notes and animatedly chatting with me about an array of topics, including baby onesies (4), colour schemes, and how music can influence the brain's development. I'd noticed a possible baby bump, and immediately placed a bet with Nathaniel on who was going to notice it first—Kitty or Piper. I voted Kitty, of course, and he had no other choice but to put his figurative money on Piper.

(4) Yes, I'm positively drowning in excitement.

He'd been keeping quiet, which I guessed was to be expected, since he was in a coma. (5) But I could have used a chatting chum to spend the hours, even one as dreadful at it as he is. Even more so, perhaps, for the advantage of making fun of him and actually getting him riled up in the process. Good old days.

(5) There is some good news for him in this: the more he sleeps, the less you can tell he frowns for a hobby. Who could guess that all you needed to do to get rid of wrinkles is getting knocked out by a great, murderous spirit? No, Sleeping Beauty doesn't count. She was an afrit in disguise, ate everyone who dared to approach and enjoyed taking kips. Needless to say, there wasn't a happily ever after for that prince. But I digress.

Obviously, Dr Elgar's attempts at engaging me in conversation had the single goal of softening me up. For one thing, to get me to collaborate on her ridiculous experiment again. For another, to weaken the blow, I supposed. She seemed to think I cared, no matter how often I corrected her. When Kitty and/or Piper were present, she pulled out her medical terminology card and played it like she wanted to knock everyone unconscious by the sheer force of her wisdom. Most of the time it worked—Kitty and Piper would get too lost in the words to actually read (or listen) between the lines. They were thrown off the scent, but maybe they let themselves be. Apparently, humans are sometimes willing to be fooled in order not to have to deal with harsh reality.

Nonetheless, it was hardly my role to call any of them out on it.

Meanwhile, I'd grown used to the machines beeping, and to his even, weak breathing. Sometimes I'd catch myself watching his thin chest move up and down, and if this doesn't tell you how insanely bored I was, I don't know what would. Either way, he was still alive, and annoying me on a whole new level, bless him.

London remained eerily quiet these days. People refused to come out unless strictly necessary and became jittery at the simple mention of "demons". But that could also be because of this incessant rain. It'd barely stopped in the last three days.

Piper was always thrilled to announce that goods have been coming in from nearby cities, and some European ones have already started to become solidary to the cause. She kept whispering to Kitty about country representatives coming by, seeming to think they simply want to do their duty by the great city of London, heart of the British Empire in all its glorious stupidity (and worse, cruelty). However, I'd wager that if any of those fancy representatives came, it'd be to gauge the level of destruction and their odds of giving London the last nudge towards obliteration. Kitty didn't seem thrilled about the idea of having them around either, but Piper hardly let her get a word in edgewise about the matter.

Either way, the fact was that I was trapped sitting on an armchair watching over the person who would probably have a better solution or at least have acted proactively by now, much as I was loath to say so. But he hadn't stirred once, and his breathing kept getting shallower every day. I wouldn't keep my hopes up, but I hadn't told either of the girls this. Piper seemed to have put so many of her hopes on him that I feared she'd implode. As for Kitty… well, she was trying to keep up morale, so I wouldn't want to rain on her parade. There's hardly anything fun about teasing something when they're doing some genuine good.

Sometimes I wondered when I'd become such a softie too.

My eyes wandered back to him. Such a frail little thing, in a body I couldn't help but marvel at when we'd been one in the same. It'd been like living inside a well-oiled machine, but something had felt too sacred for it to be akin to one. A human-sized temple for a soul. An entire universe encapsulated within. It'd been the strangest thing to witness how frailty could be so strong.

As usual, my eyes eventually found and locked on his side. It was covered by the light blue blanket and his pyjamas, but I could picture it. Underneath it all, there was wilted skin, darkened by fiery magic. It was coiled in, pulled from his belly and back like dough from the stitches. There were purple and yellow spots all around it from the constant prodding. Dr Elgar had said those would have healed by now if he were healthy, but he wasn't, and they kept having to touch the wound because of exams, and for checking and cleaning the stitches. She'd also said they would have normally removed them by now, but the magical residues were complicating things.

"The stitches keep melting away," Dr Elgar had told me on the first day of 'the treatment', as she'd trashed another pair of single-use gloves.

"So why haven't you invented stronger ones? It's been a month." The Egyptian boy had been sitting on the opposite side, beating his bent legs like butterfly wings.

Dr Elgar had given me a look as if I'd said a particularly bad joke, but in my humble opinion that's just a ridiculous notion. "It isn't that simple."

A shrug and a sigh later—each coming from different parties—Dr Elgar had beckoned me over and indicated for me to look at his side.

"That's some shoddy work, doc. Are you sure you're at the top of your field?"

A huff. "Not my work, but I'm inclined to agree with you. What do you see?"

"A lot of skin?"

"Of course, but what about the magic?"

"Oh." Squinting did nothing for improving a perfect being's vision, but squinted I had. "It's faint, but it is there."

"Yes, that much I'd figured with the stitches continually disintegrating."

"If you want a good answer, you have to ask a good question."

"Touché."

Dr Elgar had produced a pencil from a pocket and shown it to me with a raised brow, prompting me to watch. With it, she'd gently prodded Nathaniel's injured side. The smell of burnt wood had instantly reached my nostrils, even though she'd left the pencil there for a second.

"Isn't it remarkable?"

"Not really. You should have been at Hyde Park before the palace went down. Burnt wood was the most coveted eau de parfum. And it was free. A true bargain."

"I meant the way the magic reacted."

"Oh. Well, that is interesting. Never seen anything quite like it."

"I was hoping otherwise."

"Well, I have nothing. Besides, should you be using an instrument filled with germs to touch his side? And how did you even stitch him up?"

"We used iron and silver equipment, obviously."

"Fair point. Now what?"

I was startled out of my reverie by approaching steps on the other side of the door. I could tell it was Kitty—she always stomped her way about, no matter where she was. Kitty stopped right in front of the door to chat with who could only be Sam about any updates he might have.

I easily relaxed back into the armchair, stealing another glance Nathaniel's way before she came in. It was hard not to stare at the only other living thing in the room when it was hooked to machines and still dripping with spent magic. I felt an odd pull to position myself by his injured side, which I ignored.

Whenever I spent time with Kitty these days, I barely knew what to say. It was easier before, when impending death wasn't hanging on everyone's shoulders. It was easier before, when I hadn't experienced the complexity of a human's mind and the emotions that came with it. (6) It would have been easier if I hadn't known what losing a loved one felt like.

(6) I vehemently blamed Nathaniel for this, and found myself wishing he would wake up so I could force him to take his memories and thoughts back.

Now don't get me wrong—I'm not saying Kitty loves Nathaniel. How would I know? It was highly likely they'd end up dating, at least for a while, but at the moment I didn't believe that's what was driving her. She'd said something about him not having anyone else, so I supposed duty was her motivation. Whatever the case, there were a lot of emotions hanging in the air, which I wasn't comfortable with. There were only so many friendly pats on her shoulder I could muster.

Kitty was someone dear to me, who'd attempted the impossible and who'd have my eternal loyalty because of it. But I'd paid my debt to her when I'd merged with Nathaniel. So, there was no good reason why I should have let her talk me into this situation, but here we were. It was partly because of Ptolemy's ideals, which I'd never believed in myself, but which were also hard to ignore after having another human take the risk to visit the Other Place to prove themselves. And, like I said, harder still when you take a trip inside a human's brain. (7)

(7) Never thought I'd see the day, but I was disgusted with myself. If Farquarl, Nouda and the rest of the gang really believed that by helping the humans I'd committed treason, I could only imagine how much worse this would be regarded.

Sam finally told Kitty he would notify Dr Elgar that she'd arrived and was ready for the treatment to begin. Kitty didn't come in straight away, prolonging her standing by the door to listen to some unconvincing attempts at irritation by the two foliots in the walls. She eventually told them to bugger off and came in. Her face was pinched, and she was panting a little, but her eyes looked bright with fresh determination.

"Well, don't you look awful," I quipped with a wide grin.

"Hello yourself, Bartimaeus," she greeted sarcastically, and immediately shifted her focus towards the machines and the occupant in bed. "How's he doing?"

"He's been awfully quiet."

Kitty gave me a look that bordered on an exhausted glare. Then she dragged herself towards the armchair I was sitting on, totally minding my business, and waved me away so she could sit on it herself. Youngsters these days. There was no respecting their elders anymore.

"Everything is falling apart, Bartimaeus," she moaned.

I fought the urge the roll my eyes. Yeah, let's talk about her problems. "Honestly, Kitty, for all your pride in your intelligence, sometimes it should surprise you how thick you can be. Wasn't this your main goal?"

She frowned, digits pressed against her closed lids and head dramatically thrown back. Finally, she groaned and uttered, "Not like this."

"Not when you would have to stay and face the consequences?"

Kitty's frown deepened. "Whose side are you on?"

"Mine, as always. Whose side are you on?"

"Ours!" she exclaimed, staring up at me as if I'd just asked the most ridiculous thing. "Aren't we supposed to be a team? Wasn't that the whole point of me visiting you?"

I shrugged and leaned against the window. It was cold and vibrated from the magic placed just outside. The rain drummed steadily against it.

"Maybe I'd have a bit more sympathy for your problems if I weren't trapped babysitting."

She narrowed her eyes at me a little, craning her neck to see me better. "I didn't force you to be here. I asked for a favour."

"There's no shame in getting a pair of glasses, you know. With your looks, people won't question it. Just don't show them your ID."

"You said I looked better!"

"You do."

Kitty let out a frustrated sigh. "We're getting off-track." She pressed her fingers to her eyes again. Someone really should tell her that's a fine way of getting an infection, especially in a hospital. "I know this isn't easy, believe me. I've been here every day for the past month. Hospitals have an uncanny ability to drain your energy."

"That they do." I gave her another look, a wave of sympathy hitting me right in my core. I rolled my eyes and gave her a friendly punch to the shoulder.

"Ow," she whined into her hands. "Don't hit a frail old lady."

I scoffed. "That'd only work if I didn't know you."

Kitty turned her head to me again and grinned a little. It was half-hearted, tired, but I'd take what I could get. I smiled back.

"You know, you keep whining, but it isn't true that you're trapped. You could've left already."

I clicked my tongue. "Sure, and have Piper summon me the next second to do the same. I'll pass. At least you don't know the proper words for punishments."

"Not true. I flicked your essence once."

I grimaced at the memory. "Number one, that's barely a punishment, so my point still stands. Number two, you ought not to remind me of that, what with not being inside a pentacle and all."

"You wouldn't hurt me." She sounded confident.

"No?"

"No. We're friends."

I snorted. "Is that what we're calling it now?"

"Obviously, you silly," she said softly. "I'd like that very much."

"Huh. I'll think about it."

"Just remember I could always go and study up on those punishments."

I shook my head. "Frail old lady my metaphorical ass."

Kitty giggled.

We remained in silence for a bit, listening to the machines beeping, watching the windows cry. I considered the jar of one-day-old red poppies on Nathaniel's nightstand for a few seconds, deciding I didn't know nor cared enough about flowers to ascertain their meaning.

Kitty was the first to break the silence. "I know you're weak, but I'm not asking you to go about shooting spells. Just to stay and help. It hasn't seemed to bother you that much."

I wasn't that tired, actually. Not much, anyway. Itchy? Absolutely. In pain? A little. But the exhaustion that had weighed on me for the latter years in Nathaniel's service had evaporated the moment he and I had shared his body. I'd first told her I was tired to get her off my back, and part of me had expected the exhaustion to return shortly after. However, the surge of energy I'd felt when Nathaniel and I'd merged had been so great, its effects hadn't worn off.

Regardless, I wasn't about to tell her that. Not yet. Who knew what she'd suggest I do next. Maybe something ridiculous, like curing cancer.

"I asked, and you stayed," she continued. "I didn't force you, and I didn't let Piper force you. And since then, I've been by your side in every session, and you haven't complained once. Not about being in pain, anyway. You were the pain."

"Such injury I must bear." I shook my head in deep regret. "But I suppose a human wouldn't distinguish between annoyance and admiration if it hit them in the face. Jealousy is a part of both."

"You're right, I do feel both. Annoyance at your never-ending complaining, and admiration at your never-ending complaining." Her voice had been taken over by laughter by the time she'd finished.

"Yes, hysterical," I grumbled. "I'm so tempted to throw myself out the window by sheer mirth."

Kitty continued laughing for a little, not at all perturbed that I hadn't joined in. (8) After a bit, she wiped the tears from her eyes and gave me what could be perceived as a rueful smile. If you squinted, that was.

(8) Some simply lack manners. I, a model for propriety, would never be caught laughing at a superior being's expense. Definitely not to their face.

"You want to be here," she said at last, eyes locked with mine and zero hesitation in her voice. Not even a magician could have topped that.

I was too flabbergasted to conjure enough sarcasm and derision for an answer. This simply had come out of nowhere; the topic had been dropped minutes ago! Trust humans to be socially stunted.

I shook myself out of it in order to come up with a smart, effective reply: "Huh?"

"Well, you heard me." Kitty crossed her arms and looked back at Nathaniel. Maybe she'd hoped he'd wake up to complain about the ruckus we were making. And I stole a glance, because honestly, that was far from being farfetched. "I don't know what exactly is keeping you here, Bartimaeus, but it certainly isn't me, and it certainly isn't London's charms."

"I'm here because you asked me for a favour," I said slowly, hoping that this way the words might sink inside her thick skull. "And because Piper would force me to otherwise. All things considered, I'd rather do you a favour than be ordered about by the Prime Minister."

"Maybe at the beginning that was true," she conceded, nodding and standing up from the armchair, all signs of previous laughter erased from her face. "But then you decided to stay for another day, and another, and another. Besides, you could have gone anywhere. As long as you didn't go back to the Other Place, Piper wouldn't find you."

I opened and closed my mouth for a few seconds, before frowning and saying, "Like I said: doing you a favour. God knows you're one wrong step away from breaking a bone and not being able to so much as walk here."

The corner of her mouth twitched at that. "Is that so? Well, I thought a big, bad djinni wouldn't take orders from a frail old lady who can't even draw a proper pentacle."

Dr Elgar found us about a half-hour later, each of us busy with introspection. Now listen, I won't even address Kitty's preposterous accusations. It's nothing but a waste of precious time, and I've been doing a lot of that already.

Pleasantries were exchanged as usual. And—again as usual—Dr Elgar went straight to business: "So, shall we begin?"

Kitty nodded and stood up, but I was already sitting beside Nathaniel, so I didn't move.

"Any news?" Kitty asked.

"Not quite yet, no," Dr Elgar answered. Then, in a softer tone: "Remember that it could take a while for the treatment to work."

"If it works," I grumbled under my breath.

They both ignored me in favour of going over the usual caboodle: how was Kitty feeling? Was she sure she didn't need a prescription? Was she sure they couldn't take a closer look at her condition? All these questions did nothing to convince me Dr Elgar wasn't just using me and Nathaniel to advance her career, but Kitty either didn't notice or didn't care.

I looked back at Nathaniel, counting his breaths per minute, noticing a few more minute scars on his face and neck. He had a big one on his shoulder now, of course, but that had been due to a proper cut at the Mercenary's hands and not the Pestilence. For the first time, I noticed a tiny scar cutting the corner of his left eyebrow, causing a small asymmetry issue I was sure he'd frown about.

His scars were the only white thing on his face. It looked like a child had randomly used a white pencil all over it but had been too bored to be thorough. On the other hand, yellow and purple really weren't his colours, but his face was regrettably so painted. (9)

(9) Two days ago, I suggested a few slaps to introduce some red to his cheeks and maybe even wake him up, but no one took me seriously. When I went to act on it, Piper's head nearly exploded.

"Bartimaeus, are you ready?" Kitty asked me. Dr Elgar was also looking at me, pen hovering over her clipboard to write down the 'time of commencement'.

I shrugged to showcase my lack of enthusiasm.

The pen scratched the paper for a few seconds, and then Dr Elgar was indicating for Kitty to sit down. She did so across from me. I stared at her over Nathaniel's chest and she gave me an encouraging smile. I rolled my eyes in fake exasperation.

Dr Elgar busied herself with taking the machines' readings and preparing a set of iron and silver equipment. My essence reacted immediately—I jumped a little to the side. She took the hint and put more distance between me and the set. She'd never used any in front of me. Usually she took blood from his finger for fast analysis. She'd told me they'd tried to take blood from his side to see if the magic was affecting that section in a specific way, but nothing conclusive had come up. The tissue samples hadn't helped a lot either, except with diagnosing exposure to the Pestilence, and another magical attack. Like just looking at him wouldn't be enough. Humans.

I watched her lift the blanket and pull up the pyjama top a little. My eyes landed on the wound again. The first time they'd widened a little, but now my expression remained blank. I could feel Kitty's gaze on me. So far, she'd never seen the wound. Dr Elgar had said it was hospital policy, and that I was the exception because I needed to see in order to work. Kitty thought that was a bunch of baloney, but hadn't disobeyed yet.

In all honesty, I'm not required to do much. Besides, true to her word, Dr Elgar hadn't asked me to do anything involving any pain. It was uncomfortable and more than a little humiliating for sure, but not harmful to my essence.

Dr Elgar brushed her hands together vigorously, and the stench of alcohol rode right up my nostrils. I pushed the air out with a forceful exhale, but the smell remained. I gave her an indignant look. She barely noticed me.

"Whenever you're ready, Bartimaeus."

I huffed. Damn right I'd do it when I was ready.

See, this was the hard part—the critical part. I was performing magic I had never attempted before, and while in theory it was possible, it still required deep concentration.

Detonations, Infernos, and all the other fun stuff spirits could perform had been crystallised by our combined years of servitude. I barely remembered a time when those spells hadn't been available to me. But magic itself was nothing but a set of intentions. Magicians needed to verbalise theirs most of the time because they weren't magical themselves. But spirits—especially those of the finer standing, like yours truly—needed nothing more than to make that intention a reality.

Granted that most of the time we performed magic it was either for guises, defence or confrontations, but the possibilities were nearly endless. Dr Elgar seemed to be counting on this. She was watching me like a hawk.

I ignored her, focusing my attention on Nathaniel's side instead. When I felt ready, I reached up a hand. The familiar jolt of electricity ran from my fingertips to my shoulder—the magic within him was trying to push me away. It wasn't strong enough, and it didn't hurt me. This had happened every time we'd attempted 'the treatment'. At first, the magic on his side tried to discourage my touch for the first few seconds. Funnily enough, it always ended up settling around me, as if it recognised me.

The longer I hovered my hand over his skin, the further the magic reached. My ears buzzed with it, the hair on my arm began to stand. I clicked my tongue when Ptomely's chin started to prickle, and then touched the wound.

The skin was rough and flaky, more than a little warm from both the magic and the inflammation, I'd wager. However, the most interesting aspect was always the way the magic behaved. Presently the small stinging and static electricity had dissipated and been replaced by a warm, velvety sensation stretching from my fingertips to my hair to my toes. (10)

(10) Not enough of a description for you? Well, picture putting your hand inside a bowl of warm, melted chocolate. Then imagine you're diving in. That's how it feels. Not that any of the instances I'd been thrown into hot chocolate were happy, voluntary ones. But you humans seem to have an inexplicable fondness for it.

I heard Kitty move a little in her chair, but I didn't look up. In fact, to avoid temptation completely, I closed my eyes. The Egyptian boy's bony fingers trailed the stitches absentmindedly. They were more liquid than solid at that point, and my intrusion wasn't helping. Regardless, Dr Elgar had expected that, so I didn't pay it much mind.

Instead, I pushed.

This was the embarrassing and humiliating part. See, at first Dr Elgar had asked me to get rid of the magic on his side. (11) I'd drawn on it as told, but against all odds, it began healing me instead. I was activating it, yes, but the more I did it, the paler Nathaniel became.

(11) I know what you're thinking: why didn't you use the Amulet of Samarkand? Of course we'd thought of that, and tried it, but it didn't work. I had an inkling it had to do with the fact that it was protected by his body. Dr Elgar believed likewise.

So, we were changing tactics. Now I was trying to activate it from within. Dr Elgar had never attempted that, but that was probably because neither of her patients had been struck by defensive magic. She had made what spirits she had available suck out the magic to ensure a rapid recovery. Because magic was alien to a human's body, having it around wouldn't do them any good. Or so she claimed.

Nathaniel's case was the exception, for obvious reasons. So, as I tried to connect with the magic within him, I added some of my own. The idea was for the process to be complete; in other words, I was trying to resume the healing that had been interrupted. Now this sounded simpler and easier than it was, but healing humans had never been our objective. I didn't know a single spirit who'd attempted it, although I knew a few who had wanted to. Maybe the circumstances were the only thing allowing us the opportunity to try, or maybe there really was a possibility that we could help in general.

I wasn't sure I was a fan. As far as I could see, this would only serve as a way to further enslave us. Regardless, I tried. For Kitty. For the promise of going home soon after.

Faintly, I could feel Nathaniel's pulse quicken at the surge of energy, so I pushed further. I allowed my magic to be drawn in. The magic within him took it hungrily, but strangely I didn't feel robbed of mine. It was like they were intertwining, rekindling. Nathaniel gave a sigh, and I felt how his skin expanded and withdrew over his lungs. I pushed further still, properly encouraged.

However, just when we were getting somewhere, the door was thrown open. I had been so focused on healing Nathaniel that I'd forgot about my whereabouts for a while.

"Sam!" Kitty exclaimed, alarmed. She was the only one facing the door. "What brings you here?"

Sam himself looked quite stressed and didn't reply with his usual friendly greeting. He came in, barely acknowledging Kitty and I, and locked an anxious gaze with Dr Elgar. Two others came in—foliots—but I didn't remove my attention from the task at hand. Who knew what would happen if I pulled away too soon?

"Is something wrong?" Kitty asked.

Sam ignored her for a bit as he pulled Dr Elgar aside and talked to her in hushed whispers. I was too focused on Nathaniel to pay proper attention to them, but some words stood out: attack, fatality, security. Meanwhile, the foliots shuffled around the room, combing it from side to side. I growled at them when they got too close to Kitty and the bed, and they scurried away.

"Bartimaeus, that's alright. You can stop now." Dr Elgar was back at my side, scribbling notes on her clipboard. She was staring at the readings on the machines rather than at me.

I obeyed, gently withdrawing my magic. A pale blue mist uncurled from my fingers. Some of it came with me. I felt it settle in my essence—a foreign but familiar presence. Nathaniel didn't move nor produce any sound that would hint at his discomfort.

Sam moved to stand beside Kitty, intently watching Nathaniel as well. When it seemed apparent that he wouldn't be waking up and telling us all to give him some privacy, Sam sighed and turned to us.

"A patient was attacked a few minutes ago," he started, causing Kitty to stand up. "We did everything we could, but… the patient didn't make it."

"What? Just like that? How could they get into the hospital like that? I thought you had good security—"

"Yes, I know," Sam interrupted, putting his fingers on the bridge of his nose and pressing, eyes closed, jaw tense. He started pacing about, lost in thought and, presumably, anxiety as well. But he did speak shortly afterwards. "It was a hybrid. Our systems are absolutely defenceless against that."

My eyes widened against my will, and then moved back to Nathaniel, lying in bed, monitored, quite defenceless himself. Kitty seemed to be having similar thoughts.

"Do you think they meant to find John instead?"

"I can't say. No one knew he was here. But…"

"You've been too obvious," I said. "You and Piper coming here every day is highly suspicious, even if she's claiming you are both volunteering. No one believes magicians are that kind."

"Well, I am not a magician."

"No, but Bartimaeus is right," Dr Elgar said. "And if I'm remembering correctly, spirits can feel other spirits' auras and magic, can't they?"

"Well, yes, but—"

"Then it really wouldn't be difficult to piece together that at least a magician is here, and since most of the dead and the living are accounted for, this hybrid must have come looking for those who aren't accounted for."

"But why not single out the living ones first?"

Sam, who had been staring off into space, suddenly blinked back to Earth. "But they are being singled out. Some, at least. Like Piper, when she was attacked three days ago."

"What?" Kitty demanded.

"I thought you knew," Sam muttered. Then he cleared his throat. "At any rate, we must come up with a solution. I came to make sure Mr Mandrake was alright."

"Why did you come instead of security?" I asked.

Sam appeared to struggle for a moment. In fact, he seemed downright reluctant to elaborate on his story. Dr Elgar also gave him a curious look.

"Samuel?" she prompted, but still he was mute.

"I was doing my rounds when I heard sounds of struggling coming from inside a room." His eyes were haunted as he retold this.

"There was another magician here, wasn't there?" I guessed. It was a long shot. Most magicians had been accounted for, as Dr Elgar had said, but not all. Nat had been declared dead for the sole purpose of avoiding these kinds of situations. At least that's what Piper claimed.

Sam's eyes jumped up to mine, partially alarmed, but also partially relieved. I supposed I did unburden him from having to divulge that part of the information. Maybe he wasn't meant to share it, but was having trouble withholding it with the way Kitty and Dr Elgar were on his case. Speaking of the doctor, she didn't seem as thrilled to instigate a response from Sam now that she knew what was going on.

I spared him. "Is the hybrid still in hospital grounds?"

"It's gone. Left through the window when I walked in. It blew a hole in the nexuses like they were nothing," he said, his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth in a tight line. "We've contacted security and they're scanning the area, but it'll be useless. I've also sent for Piper. She should be here shortly."

"Wait. How do you know it was a hybrid and not just anyone else?" Kitty asked.

"It had wings."

"How the hell did wings escape your notice?" she cried. It was utterly baffling, I agree. If anything, it just goes to show how humans' observation skills are comparable to a carp's.

Sam raised his voice a little. "It didn't have wings when it came in." My comment about observation still stands, mind you. "It probably used magic to hide them." Still standing, I say.

"Do you have spirits looking for it?"

"Yes, but I don't know if we'll get anywhere now. The only true advantage we have is that the surveillance cameras caught it. We'll make everyone in this hospital memorise that face and we'll stay alert."

"That won't work," I said. "A little Glamour and you're all waving them in and offering them tea. Honestly, if this hybrid can hide wings, don't you think it could also change its appearance?"

"Maybe. But you can't exactly use Glamour on a camera, and security would be alerted to its presence straight away."

I shook my head. "It would be too late by the time they acted. And really, what do you expect human security will be able to do against a hybrid? Become a snack?"

"Like I said, we have spirits as well."

"Incompetent ones, clearly."

"All the more reason for you to be here, Bartimaeus," Kitty cut in at last.

I blistered, annoyed that she'd used this situation to further her agenda. I was about to tell her so when I heard urgent footsteps approaching from the hallway. I immediately shifted to my gargoyle form, wings spreading wide and knocking Dr Elgar a little to the side, claws sharp and ready. Kitty and Sam tensed up when they saw me change, and turned their eyes to the door, waiting.

Two seconds later, a dishevelled Piper burst the door open and rushed inside, past all our stunned expressions, and stopped only by the bed. She let out a relieved sigh and turned away with her hands in her hair after checking that Nathaniel was indeed breathing. All of our stances relaxed with her melodramatic display.

"Jesus Christ, Rebecca," Kitty chastised, "we thought you were the hybrid!"

Sam had moved to Dr Elgar's side to help her up. Once the doctor was steady on her feet, Piper thanked Sam for warning her. Apparently, the meeting was ending when the imp had arrived with the message. From then on, it'd been a matter of getting in the car and speeding through nearly deserted streets. That had barely taken them five minutes. Not altogether bad for humans.

"Who was targeted?" Piper asked in her business voice. She probably thought she sounded commanding.

Sam refused to meet her eyes.

"Were there fatalities?" Piper insisted.

"Just the one," Sam muttered.

"Who was it?"

Again Sam said nothing. Piper stomped her foot on the floor like a child.

"Do I need to remind you who's asking you this question?" Piper demanded, surprising everyone in the room. Many things she was, but Piper had never directly lorded her power over anyone in the room, as far as I could tell. Well, anyone but little old me, but we all know how magicians are.

Sam sighed like he'd lived a hundred years of servitude. I should know. I could write books on the topic.

We were all looking at him expectantly.

"Jane Farrar."