Sorry for the wait. My internship is kicking my butt, and this chapter didn't want to edit itself. It was a whole thing. But I'll shut up now and let you read.

Chapter Six

shadows come to life

Kitty

Kitty watched Sam and two other nurses rush into the room, followed by Dr Elgar, who seemed to be struggling with moving as fast as she needed to. Sam had pulled Piper to the side, and she was currently standing frozen by the window as the nurses shouted numbers and incomprehensible words at each other and Dr Elgar ordered them around in a calm, firm voice.

As for Bartimaeus, he was glued to Nathaniel's side like he hadn't just denied caring about him in the slightest. He still had his hand on Nathaniel's wound, even though the magic exchange had stopped already. Kitty knew the situation called for a big emotional response, but she couldn't help but see the comedy in it. She'd later chalk it up to mental exhaustion and weird psychological responses.

Nathaniel's eyes were still glazed over, but they were definitely gaining focus, and they seemed to alternate between Bartimaeus and herself. Kitty went for a reassuring smile, hoping to soothe Nathaniel. Waking up to a room full of medical staff couldn't be anyone's idea of fun, especially when no one was standing still. She guessed it would be even worse for someone as used to having control over things as Nathaniel was. He didn't return the gesture; in fact, Nathaniel didn't react much at all.

Eventually, Sam came to usher the three of them out of the room, and as much as she wanted to protest, she supposed they were getting in the way. Bartimaeus did grumble a bit about humans not being reliable, but Sam either pretended not to hear or was just so used to this sort of abuse by patients' loved ones that he simply did not notice anymore.

"Trust me, it's better this way," he told them before rushing back in and closing the door.

Muffled voices still travelled through the wall, but Kitty couldn't make out what was being said. It was like her ears were filled with rushing water. Plus, Piper was still clearly taken aback, so Kitty put one reassuring arm around her and made for the waiting area, motioning with her head for Bartimaeus to follow. He did, surprisingly not commenting on it, plopping down on a chair and grabbing a magazine from the pile. He frowned at it and chose another, repeating the process a few times before settling on one.

Kitty sat Piper down by the water cooler and began filling her a cup as she noticed Bartimaeus ripping the magazine apart page by page. She frowned at him, but all he did was give her a bored expression before resuming his antics.

Piper accepted the water in shaky hands, struggling a bit with the coat and the suitcase before placing both on a nearby chair. It really must have been shocking for Piper, having barely come into the room after a day's work to find Nathaniel finally waking up.

Kitty was barely done with that thought when Piper suddenly broke down in front of her, tears flowing apparently without her noticing it. Kitty, mildly in panic, started slapping her jean pockets until she found a pack of tissues. Piper started when Kitty handed her one, looking confused for a millisecond before touching her own face and proceeding to dab at her overflowing cheeks with the tissue. Kitty had never been happier about her new constant sniffles.

Still, she felt a bit out of her element. She had never been one for comforting words or big speeches, so the best she could come up with was a reassuring hand on Piper's knee and gently tell her to drink some water and take a few deep breaths.

"He'll be fine," Bartimaeus blurted out. Kitty looked at him over her shoulder. Bartimaeus didn't seem to notice her as he produced a pen and started on a sudoku. All the other magazine's pages were in small, crumpled balls around him—on the nearby chairs, on the small coffee table, and on the hypoallergenic carpet. One of the balls had even made it to the top of the flowerless plant on the other side of the room.

"Bartimaeus is right," Kitty said.

Kitty figured Piper's tears had started as relief that Nathaniel was awake and then moved on to something else. She had never seen Piper this thoroughly defeated before. The meetings had been rough on her, with the commoners' representatives and magicians alike constantly tearing her apart. The only backup she had was Harold Button. However, he too was distrusted by both magicians and commoners, for not siding completely with either group. Piper had told her all of this three days ago when Piper had taken her home, the news of Jane Farrar's death weighing on their minds.

Kitty hadn't known Jane well enough for it to truly affect her, but the very real threat of further attempts on the hospital's patients' lives wasn't lost on her. More so because the spirits they'd sent after the hybrid had come back empty handed, if at all. Bartimaeus was restless, Piper too, and Kitty's poker face had seen better days.

Bartimaeus grumbled something. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. But Kitty didn't hear it, so she asked him to repeat.

"I said that he's so unbearably stubborn that there's no way he'll die now. He's got it ingrained in his little brain that he needs to come back to annoy the living hell out of me and everyone else, so that's what he'll do. Once that brat sets his mind to something, stopping him should win you an Olympic medal. I'm surprised there hasn't been a category invented yet. The Olympics need a little revival, so maybe we should pitch the idea, see what the committee thinks. Maybe that way the world will stop hating London so much."

Kitty couldn't help the snort that came out of her mouth. Piper's face too evolved from a blank, far-off look to a frown and finally to a reluctant grin. Kitty giggled a little, Piper following soon, and Bartimaeus, much as he tried not to, evolved from scoffing to an actual laugh that reverberated a little through the walls.

Kitty, who'd been kneeling in front of Piper despite her protesting joints, fell on her butt as her laughter evolved into an uncontrollable fit, tears prickling at her eyes. Piper was already hugging her stomach with one hand, the other covering her mouth. Kitty could understand why—they were getting curious looks from a few passing nurses and visitors. But Kitty couldn't care less.

The three of them laughed for a minute or two more, Bartimaeus's remark ringing true and acting as a beacon of light in the middle of all the drama. Kitty locked eyes with Piper, seeing in the other's facial expressions how the relief of finally getting to witness the results of their wait wash over like rain.

It was just like looking in a mirror.

(…)

When Dr Elgar came out of the room a couple hours later, the laughter had died down long ago, and Piper's eyes were dry again, albeit a bit red still. The two nurses who had arrived earlier left in as much haste as they'd gone in, and Kitty was again reminded of the state of things in London at the moment. These poor people were probably running on fumes.

Kitty snapped out of it and followed Bartimaeus and Piper in greeting the doctor by the door. Dr Elgar had a tired, satisfied smile plastered on her face as she greeted them back. She removed her gloves a bit mechanically as Piper and Kitty took turns firing questions. Out the corner of her eye, Kitty could see Sam back in the room, softly talking to Nathaniel as he gently rearranged his pillow and pulled up the bedsheets.

Dr Elgar lifted a hand to stop their incessant questioning. "He's awake, and stable." Then, with a genuinely happy grin directed towards Bartimaeus: "The treatment worked."

Kitty couldn't exactly say she knew Bartimaeus well. She'd read about him, and not found much to begin with. All things considered, their relationship had been more one of mutual need, and then had developed from there. She'd learned a few things along the way, but most of them had been due to observation and not by being told something directly. But she knew enough to recognise the happy glimmer in his eyes, even as his lips curled into his characteristic self-satisfied smirk and he made a comment about his many accomplishments.

Kitty didn't care; she was too happy to snort at him or even shake her head in disbelief. In that moment, she could have tackled him into the tightest hug of all. Maybe she would later, have him deal with it as he saw fit. Craning her neck a bit, Kitty tried to meet Piper's gaze, but it was trained on Elgar. That was just as well; she was clearly happy and relieved too.

"I suppose it would've taken us less time if we'd attempted your idea of pushing the magic instead of pulling it sooner," Dr Elgar continued. "But I believe it's safe to say that under a week of treatment is a remarkable time, considering the circumstances."

"It is," Kitty said, unable to keep quiet for a moment longer. Lack of energy had plagued her so much recently that this news was making her feel more than a little energised. It was like she'd been waiting on Dr Elgar to open the bottle where she kept all her energy, to give her permission to relax. "And we're so grateful, doctor. To you, to Sam," she smiled at him as he approached, and he easily smiled back, "to the rest of the team."

Bartimaeus cleared his throat.

"You know I'm the most grateful to you, so stop that," she said with a lilt of laughter in her voice. Relief was filling her lungs so much she might not be able to speak normally for a bit.

Bartimaeus gave her an eye roll, but he too was smiling.

"What's next?" Piper asked. Kitty was mildly surprised that Piper had gone back to the cool and collected demeanour she used for her political endeavours. It was impressive how Piper managed to go through so many emotional reactions in such a short time and still come back to this guarded self. Surely it was exhausting to do it every day. Kitty's own attempts at controlling her facial expression for three years had left her exhausted at the end of every single day of those years.

"We'll be closely monitoring Mr Mandrake for the next twenty-four hours, but for now it seems that he's heading for a full recovery. However," she stressed before any of them had a chance to express more happy thoughts, "it will take Mr Mandrake a while to get back on track. He'll need to do some physiotherapy, and to stay on a balanced diet to build some muscle mass. He hasn't spoken a lot yet, so we do not know the extent of the mental damage he could have sustained, nor if there are any indicators for psychological repercussions.

"This means that he'll need a lot of patience and support from his loved ones. And under no circumstances should he return to work so soon. It'd also be ideal to keep stressful news to a minimum. He'll need to get back to his life slowly."

"But also, don't treat him like a child," Sam added. "Understand that he might be very upset about his circumstances, showcase some symptoms of psychological distress, but don't patronise him. That can be very frustrating and a deterrent to his recovery. The struggles he'll be facing are very real, even if they may not seem so to you. You all know what he went through, at least to some extent, so try to be empathetic, kind and encouraging as much as possible."

Dr Elgar nodded along with Sam's words. "And if at any time you find that he may need the help of a mental health professional, do not hesitate to let us know. We'll need to collaborate in order to ensure Mr Mandrake's rapid and effective recovery."

The three of them nodded in acknowledgement. Even Bartimaeus seemed to recognise the assertiveness in their voices and didn't try to spice up the moment with his sass. Kitty was glad for it. She knew they were already treading some sort of invisible line with keeping him there.

"What about visits?" Piper asked. "Can we continue as we were?"

"It depends on how he'll react. Seeing as it's just the three of you, and knowing you and Ms Jones have your own work schedules, I won't restrict visitation times. But please keep in mind that Mr Mandrake needs his rest."

"Maybe I should sit this one out, then," Bartimaeus commented with a sigh. "Not to state the obvious, but if it is excitement you're trying to limit, I should be the first to go. After all, I'm the most entertaining out of all of us. I wouldn't want to give dear John a heart attack."

Kitty gave him the best deadpan expression she could muster, and even Piper was looking at him bemusedly as he spouted those words. Really, for someone who'd just visibly relaxed upon receiving the happy news, Bartimaeus's need to separate himself from his feelings for humans was both remarkable and annoying.

"Please ignore him, Dr Elgar. No, actually," she trailed off, giving Bartimaeus an amused look. Bartimaeus's own amusement died down in response. "Maybe you could have that mental health professional come by to look at him. This has been 5,000 years in the making."

She shook her head in deep regret even as Bartimaeus narrowed his eyes at her. Then Sam suggested they all do a therapy session and the spell was broken, returning Bartimaeus and Kitty to the same side of the offensive, both vehemently shaking their heads at the offer.

Piper sighed. "I'm sorry to waste your time like this." She ignored the indignant sounds Kitty and Bartimaeus made. "Can we see him now?"

"Of course." Dr Elgar smiled. "Just remember. Keep it calm and quiet."

With Piper's assent, the doctor and the nurse were off, which left the three of them awkwardly staring at the room. Kitty shifted her balance from foot to foot, feeling the seconds pressing on her shoulders, her chest, her bones. This had been a month in the making. Longer even. She was more than ready. It was the beginning of something good, she was sure.

But then, Piper, unable to handle the silence any longer, abruptly turned to Bartimaeus with deep resolution in her eyes and a huge frown of concentration. Kitty jumped a little from Bartimaeus's other side, worried that Piper would curse up a storm and summon a spirit to drag Bartimaeus to the depths of hell now that his task of healing Nathaniel had been completed and there were no witnesses around. She felt Bartimaeus shift a bit backwards too, probably readying to flee.

And then Piper bowed her head a little and rushed out: "I'm sorry for the way I acted last week."

"Heh?" Bartimaeus eloquently asked.

Piper frowned some more. "I'm sorry for threatening you. That was wrong of me. I've… never tried to trust a spirit before. It was ingrained in me not to. I believed you'd try to harm him whenever the chance presented itself, but you did the exact opposite, even after I was so rude to you."

Bartimaeus looked as gobsmacked as Kitty felt. He hadn't even attempted to drop his chin to the floor or bug his eyes out their sockets in a show of mock surprise, so this had to be genuine. Kitty smiled at the two of them. This was good. This was definitely the beginning of something good.

"I'm not sure I entirely understand or agree with this method," Piper continued, "but it's clear it works for you and Kitty. And I cannot argue with results." Piper extended her hand to Bartimaeus. "Thank you for bringing him back."

Kitty saw Bartimaeus hesitantly take Piper's head and give it a single shake. Kitty smiled some more at the formality of the situation. As Piper broke the contact and nodded at him once more, Kitty reckoned they'd be alright. All four of them. If anyone could do this, it was them.

She was ready.

Or maybe not.

Kitty didn't know exactly what she'd been expecting. After all, she'd left the room just a couple hours ago. Nathaniel didn't speak much, and seemed to be barely listening too. He simply stared straight ahead, lost in thought. He'd smiled a bit at her and Piper, but then Bartimaeus had come in after them, and Nathaniel's eyes had clouded over.

"So, how are you feeling?" Piper asked. She was sitting on the edge of her chair, on the opposite side of the bed from Kitty. Bartimaeus lingered behind.

Nathaniel's eyes glimmered faintly in recognition. "Fine," he croaked.

Kitty automatically reached for the water. Gently lifting the breathing mask with one finger, she directed the straw towards his mouth. Nathaniel took a few pulls, but it was clearly taxing for him. Again, Kitty didn't know what she'd expected. She'd known there'd been a lot of damage done, but this. She'd half expected him to be asking questions, demanding to know where he was and be embarrassed even to be taken care of.

"Thank you," he said, panting a little to refill his lungs. Kitty put the mask back in place, but held onto the cup. She needed to have her hands busy with something.

"You're welcome. Do you need anything?"

He shook his head, closed his eyes with a frown. "Dizzy," he puffed out, like it annoyed him. Kitty nodded. That she'd expected.

She exchanged a look with Bartimaeus, but neither said anything. During the past few days, they'd talked about getting Nathaniel out of the hospital as soon as possible. Kitty knew Bartimaeus couldn't fight a hybrid in the state he was in. Really, it still surprised her to find him standing guard every day when she came in. Part of her had expected Bartimaeus to have dismissed himself already. If not purely for the purpose of making some sort of standing.

But now, being reminded that Nathaniel still had a long way to go, she didn't know what they'd do. Obviously the medical staff wouldn't even consider him stable enough to send home, and she couldn't condemn that. But he needed to get better now. London was in chaos, the council was too busy arguing and Piper lacked the confidence and authority to lead. It wasn't like Kitty thought Piper couldn't do it, but Piper definitely thought she couldn't. That was glaringly obvious.

Unconsciously, Kitty began bouncing her right leg in a frantic rhythm. The more she thought about their possibilities, the more impatient she became. For one thing, staying in the hospital wasn't just making Nathaniel vulnerable—the other patients were also at risk. Regardless of how much Sam reassured her that the hospital had redoubled their security, Kitty knew it was just for show. What could a bunch of foliots and a couple djinn do against a murderous afrit or a marid? Those magician fools hadn't summoned lesser spirits into themselves; no, they'd gone for the powerhouses.

Kitty frowned at the thought. It was just like Bartimaeus had stated: the resources the hospital had weren't enough to identify or deal with hybrids. According to Piper, Nathaniel himself would provide the best security for himself, but that wouldn't happen any time soon. The fact that no one else knew he was alive also posed a problem. They couldn't just have magicians send spirits to protect the hospital without raising suspicions. Piper could say whatever she wanted, but Kitty didn't believe they'd do it for commoners. They'd argue there was already a security department at the hospital and that resources were thin what with the hybrid hunt situation. And Kitty wouldn't want to pull resources away from that either, since they were fighting the same problem. It just didn't seem to be working.

She stopped her leg when Piper gave her a curious look, chastising herself for letting her impatience and anxiety bleed out in front of Nathaniel, and right after he'd woken up too.

Piper gave her a half-hearted smile, probably reading her like the open book she was. "It's okay if you want to go back to sleep," Piper gently told Nathaniel, smiling brighter when Nathaniel looked at her.

"Bartimaeus is going to stay with you," Kitty added, determined to participate.

"Is that supposed to make him feel better?" Bartimaeus mocked.

And just like that, something lifted. "Really, that's not very considerate," Nathaniel whispered with a ghost of a smile.

Bartimaeus sighed in fake annoyance. "Biting the hand that feeds you, eh?"

The corner of Nathaniel's lips twitched, but he didn't reply. He was clearly spent from this small interaction.

Kitty reckoned magic was a funny thing. Bartimaeus had twice used it to wake Nathaniel, although he probably hadn't realised that this time around.

Kitty smiled to herself. It was alright. More than alright. Nathaniel was tired and a bit out of it, but he was responding well and knew who everyone was. Besides, he'd just woken up from a coma. She needed to remember that. So, this was normal. Yes, completely normal. She punched down her less positive thoughts with as much might as she could muster.

They were going to be fine.

"Well, we have to get going," Kitty said, standing up. Piper followed her lead, albeit a bit reluctantly. "But we'll be back tomorrow, okay?"

Nathaniel nodded.

"See you tomorrow," Piper said with a small, awkward wave.

"See you tomorrow," Nathaniel said.

Kitty and Bartimaeus shared another look. She smiled when he rolled his eyes.

"See you tomorrow."

Kitty huffed and puffed as she moved a sack of potatoes from the lorry to the back door of Edward Norwood's bakery. Her back had started to ache more than a half-hour ago, painfully reminding her that, despite her thin stature, she still lacked muscle. Edward's daughter, Melanie, was peeling potatoes in a corner, as her two brothers moved sacks of goods to the pantry and pans around wherever their father ordered them to.

On a portable gas stove, supported by a group of bricks, was a large stockpot, simmering on low heat, steam coming off it and filling the air with the smell of beef stew. Edward's wife, Hannah, was stirring it and serving a line of hungry people that carried all the way to the corner of the alley, and Kitty felt something pull at her heartstrings.

With renewed vigour, she grabbed the plastic tub with dirty bowls and tableware at Hannah's feet and headed for the kitchen. She dropped it in the sink, folded her jumper's sleeves and got to work. Kitty made small talk with Melanie as she worked, but her mind took her elsewhere.

Just a few hours earlier, she had argued (again) with Piper about her evening activities. As much as Kitty tried to explain that Edward Norwood wasn't trying to take her Prime Minister position by talking Kitty into joining his campaign, Piper wouldn't believe her. Not that Kitty could vouch for him; they weren't that close. After George had gone out of business, Kitty had been left unemployed. She worked part time at Norwood's bakery, and volunteered for his soup kitchen as much as she could. Her popularity helped her get goods for free, and Norwood didn't stick his nose in her business. He even let her do the shifts most convenient for her, although she was certain he hadn't really needed another pair of hands.

To be fair to Piper, Edward Norwood was popular. The commoners found him relatable, one of them, and he was always humble and polite to the magicians. In all the meetings Kitty had sat in, she hadn't once witnessed Norwood raise his voice or try to begin conflict. That was not to say he didn't argue with others, but he kept his head while he did. Unlike some snooty, teenaged prats, like Ronald Kingston. Kitty rolled her eyes. Figures he'd choose a grandiose magician name to go with his annoying personality. Well, Kitty supposed the contrast did wonders for Norwood's popularity, as did this soup kitchen.

Kitty sighed. There she went, being cynical again. Neither Norwood, nor his family had ever given her reason to believe they weren't genuine in their efforts. She supposed her life so far had just conditioned her to always expect the worst. Watch everyone around her to know when to dodge the bullet.

Kitty briefly wondered if that was what Piper felt; what Nathaniel had felt throughout his life, and every magician, really. Tough life, she reckoned. For all of them. Yes, even Ronald bloody Kingston.

"You know," Melanie was saying, "it's really nice of you to come by and help."

"Oh, not at all. I'm just sorry I can't do more."

"Aren't we all?"

Kitty sighed. No, not really. Not everyone was keen on helping these poor people. Ronald bloody Kingston certainly wasn't. Kitty really needed to let the last meeting she'd attended roll off her back, but it kept coming back to annoy her.

"Your father must be exhausted with running the bakery, attending council meetings and still cooking this much food at night."

"Well, we're not the only ones doing it. Besides, there's a lot of baked goods that'd end up in the trash by the end of the day. It's really sad, when you think about it. Even before this happened, there were a lot of homeless people in London."

"Yeah," Kitty muttered. Again something tugged at her heart. She squeezed the sponge and rubbed harder, trying to make the sensation go away. If she scrubbed hard enough, maybe she would feel a tad useful for a change. One month of weary bones at the age of nineteen put things in perspective. "But your father always gave the leftovers to the poor."

Melanie turned from peeling carrots—she had switched from potatoes ten minutes ago—to look at her. "How did you know?"

Kitty smiled at the dishes. "He's famous. Besides, he always gave me the best mince pies on Christmas."

Melanie smiled fondly at her and reached over to squeeze her hand. Then they both laughed because she'd managed to get soap all over it.

"You are all very nice people. No, really," she insisted, because Melanie was starting to protest. "The world is less shit with people like you in it."

"You are not so bad yourself, Jones," Melanie quipped with a wink.

For a while, both returned to their respective tasks, Kitty scrubbing and rinsing, going back outside to exchange clean dishes for dirty ones, and Melanie moving from vegetable to vegetable with practiced ease. The brothers walked around, helping their father, distributing warm tea or feeding some of those who couldn't eat by themselves. They always seemed to find an extra blanket, an extra jumper, and an extra kind smile. Edward Norwood divided his attention between refilling the stew for his wife and prepping for the next day.

And Kitty knew there were unsung heroes in making this evening possible—like the vegetable donations from small farms on the outskirts of London—but, in that moment, it felt like she was among a superhero family and she was the powerless outsider who tried her best to help. She had to force herself to think that every drop of the ocean counted, but it was hard not to be disheartened by the circumstances.

Melanie had stopped cutting the vegetables a few moments ago, but Kitty hadn't noticed, automatically going about her chore and lost in her conflicting feelings. With a clench of her hands, Melanie walked over to Kitty and said, "I feel like I should warn you."

"Warn me?"

"Yes." Melanie took a moment to fiddle with her dirty apron and looked around to make sure no one was paying them attention. "I didn't want to say anything to father because he… he always wants to believe the best in people, you know? He'd probably dismiss it. But the rumours are true: there is a new Resistance being formed. I was wondering if—"

"If I had anything to do with it?" Kitty couldn't keep the biting tone from her voice.

Melanie nodded, again averting her eyes.

"No. Nothing at all." Kitty didn't say it, but she was surprised. Not necessarily at the existence of such a group, but at the speed with which it had been formed. That was, if it had been formed only now.

"I see." Melanie leaned in closer, pretending to pick a sharper knife from Kitty's row of clean silverware and dry it with a clean cloth. "They asked me to join the other night. I was serving soup like usual, and this middle-aged man told me how my father wouldn't be able to make a real difference this way. I refused, of course, but he didn't seem to take it well."

Kitty quirked her eyebrow at her. She didn't like where this was headed at all.

"I'm afraid they might come back and try to… you know. But I didn't want to worry my family, or make it into a bigger deal than it is—"

"Melanie," Kitty interrupted, "this is precisely when you should worry your family." Kitty sighed and tightened her hold on the sponge under the bubbly water. She didn't want Melanie to see how agitated this was making her. "You need to tell them, okay? It's better to warn them before someone tries to approach them too."

Melanie reluctantly nodded. "I just didn't want to bother anyone, you know? We all have so much on our plates already."

Kitty truly could sympathise. "I know. But we also need to be able to trust each other in times like these. And I'm grateful that you told me. Maybe later you could give someone I know a description of this man?"

"I could try."

"That's all I ask."

When Kitty finally left the bakery, the clock had long since struck midnight. She walked the irregular streets of London bathed in dim moonlight, biting at the tuna sandwich Melanie had given her. The night's orchestra reached her ears as she went, with lampposts humming and clicking at irregular intervals, insects helplessly buzzing around the light, her boots splashing on small muddy puddles from the afternoon's rain. Kitty subconsciously slowed down, grateful for the clear skies. The wind still bit at her cheeks and nose, but she simply finished the sandwich in one large bite and pulled her scarf up.

Noisily chewing, she trashed the napkin and returned her hands to the warm solace of her coat's pockets. Her head was swimming with the information Melanie had shared. The irony of the situation wasn't lost on her—she'd been part of the original Resistance, and now she was going to try to stop one. Well, not directly stop it. She didn't know that there was much that she could do besides telling Piper. But should she even do that? Piper already had so much on her plate, and after that meltdown at the hospital, Kitty really didn't want to add to it.

Before she could decide, a dissonance mixed with the night's song.

Steps.

Kitty didn't look back like she was itching to; instead, she picked up the pace, listening for the other's steps. Her heart jumped to her throat when she heard them match hers in speed. Kitty breathed deep gulps of air to calm her heart. She had a knife in her left boot and the Amulet of Samarkand around her neck, she reminded herself. As if noticing her agitation, the artefact's pulses started matching her heart's. Kitty could have laughed.

Kitty turned a corner, taking the chance to look at the figure behind her. She could only make out a black humanoid mass, which wasn't much help. She turned again, and her stalker did the same. If she turned one last time and they followed, Kitty would be one-hundred percent sure she was the target. They'd be going in a circle.

So, she turned, and they turned. Oh god. Okay, no, calm down, she coached herself. Kitty quickened her steps as much as she could without breaking into a run. She was close to her room; she could see the building already, sandwiched by identical shoddy-looking buildings. Should she go to her room? There were two foliots standing guard at her door, courtesy of Piper, but she didn't know if they'd be much help. Could she even make it in before getting caught?

Her heart hammering in her chest, Kitty abruptly turned around and grabbed her silver knife in one swift motion. But nothing was there. Her hold on the knife only tightened as she swept the area with her eyes. She could feel the sweat that had accumulated between her shoulder blades uncomfortably drip down her back. Had she been imagining things? Kitty began slowly retreating in the direction of her building, her feet grinding against the gravel the only sound in the night.

"Ms Jones," a childish voice said just as the lampposts went dark. Kitty jumped around, knife slicing the air in front of her. She panted, body electrified with the need to flee. The figure stood before her, still cloaked in black. She could make out the outline against the light of the moon, but that was it.

"What?" she demanded, hoping her voice didn't sound as frightened as she felt. Noncorporeal voices in the dark really weren't her cup of tea. She gulped as memories of the night at Westminster Abbey flashed before her eyes.

No, concentrate, she told herself, shaking her head and widening her stance.

The figure took a step towards her, and she took one back.

"Ms Jones!" Definitely a different voice this time around. Kitty jumped at the call, and the figure turned too. The two foliots were running towards her in the guise of two skinny teenagers.

"Wait!" she warned.

The foliots had fired two Detonations before she could even finish the word. The figure before her jumped smoothly out of the way, higher than a human would. The Detonations were promptly absorbed by the amulet, but Kitty was too busy watching the figure shrouded in darkness jump from wall to wall to notice the horrified looks on the foliots' faces.

The foliots' attention returned to the leaping creature too. Kitty saw their hands gleaming with magic, ready to blast some more in its direction. But if they did that—

"Stop, you idiots!" Kitty shouted. "You'll hit the houses!"

Guilt quickly washed over her at the insult as the foliots' very human ears drooped at being chastised. Fortunately, her words reached them in time.

However, when the three of them looked up again to search for the creature, it was already gone.

Anjumstar is the best. Really, that's just it. I'm grateful to have her in my life.

Stay safe, everyone!