Well, that did not go as planned. Sorry about that. Somehow writing a dissertation/report is a lot more time consuming (and annoying) than I first imagined. On a happier note, this is the longest chapter so far, and guess what—the longest chapter until now was also a Bart chapter. He just won't shut up.

A quick note: no offense meant to any religion or its believers whatsoever.

Chapter Nine

the scarlet avenger

Bartimaeus

Well, I should have seen it coming.

Two entire weeks of relative smooth sailing were too good to be true. Really, I'd been having such a grand time riling Nathaniel up that even Sam had told me on more than one occasion to mind his blood pressure—that's how well it was going. (1) And Kitty showing up dressed for what could only be a funeral should have been the last clue.

(1) Apparently his wardrobe was still a touchy subject. I'd merely asked for his opinion on the matter of the elasticity of his trousers, should the need arise for us to use them as a catapult. Which was a perfectly reasonable question, but you wouldn't know it by his reaction.

But then there came the explosion, and all went to hell.

It wasn't a particularly violent one, all things considered. The building barely grumbled from the impact, but the screams came soon after, ruining my chances of better pinpointing the source of the explosion. I could tell it had come from the lower levels of the hospital, but that was hardly helpful, since Nathaniel's room was at the very top.

"Sam, what happened to heightened security?" Kitty demanded from the door. She had her head stuck out to check the corridor, but she didn't seem to find anything. Well, apart from a lot of panicked people.

Sam fumbled for a moment, clearly baffled, and then hastily grabbed a small, rectangular device. "I, uh…" He squinted at it, then cursed. "My PDA ran out of battery." He shoved the device back in his pocket, this time producing a marble-sized crystal ball. "Show me the security department."

"I didn't know nurses had crystal balls," Nathaniel mumbled a bit distractedly. Were this another time, I would have made a hilarious joke. I almost felt robbed of such a golden opportunity. But Nathaniel was taking it the worst. He had jumped so much at the explosion and now was gripping the bedsheets to stop the trembling in his hands. And any time now he'd start hyperventilating. By all accounts, he looked ready for a proper panic attack, which was far from ideal. I needed him clearheaded.

Suddenly shocked out of my stupor by another explosion and more screaming, I grabbed the wheelchair and made for the bed. "Sam, you remove the IV. I've no idea how this works." Sam immediately pocketed the crystal ball and came closer, patting his other pockets. He found a small gauze packet and sighed in relief.

"This is far from ideal. I should change gloves and get some more gauze—"

"We're a bit pressed for time," I reminded him.

"Of course." Sam held Nathaniel's skin taut with one hand as he peeled the dressing back. "Mr Mandrake, if you're squeamish, I'd suggest looking away."

"I'm not—"

"Look at me," I told him as I grabbed his cheeks and turned his face to mine. "We're going to be fine." He gave me an almost imperceptible nod. "Good."

Nathaniel barely seemed to notice the catheter being removed, but he wasted no time in throwing the oxygen tube behind him. That didn't help the harsh breathing. He was taking mouthfuls at a time now.

"Here, press the gauze with your hand. It'll help with bruising," Sam instructed. Nathaniel nodded again. "And breathe slowly and deeply." Sam demonstrated with his own breathing, encouraging Nathaniel to copy him. So Sam had noticed too. Well, at least Nathaniel was listening to him; his breathing was slowing. He complemented this by counting down on his fingers, which Sam seemed to approve.

I spoke again when it seemed that he'd got it somewhat under control. "Okay, let's make ourselves scarce." Without waiting for a reply, I pulled back the blankets and moved Nathaniel to the wheelchair. Then I pushed it until we joined Kitty at the door.

"Do you reckon it's the same one?" Kitty asked, opening the door wider for us to pass.

"It's hard to say. The last time there weren't any explosions," I reminded her as we kept walking, sometimes nearly colliding with a panicked patient or medical staff. Sam quietly followed behind. "But I suppose the hybrid may have come back to finish the job and got frustrated."

Nathaniel turned to eye us both in confusion. We hadn't told him about Farrar because Dr Elgar thought it wouldn't 'promote healing'. And now really wasn't the time, but this idiot may just start thinking an attempt had been made on his life. Which, to be fair, we weren't certain about. But now that Jane was dead and there wasn't another magician besides him staying here, what else could it be?

Sam, who had been fiddling with the crystal ball again and was now looking extremely anxious, blurted, "The department was attacked. There's no one there, so it could have gone either way, but…"

"Bloody brilliant," I grumbled, increasing my pace. The lift was right ahead.

"Wait, we shouldn't use the lift in this situation," Kitty said, halting our half march, half run.

"I seriously doubt a hybrid will think to look in one," I retorted.

"It'll still be suspicious if we're the only ones using it," Nathaniel pointed out. He seemed more in control now. Not near as cool and composed as usual, but better than a few minutes before.

"Isn't this great? I get to carry you down the stairs."

Nathaniel frowned. "What about the window?"

I gave it a glance. "Nexus, Hexes, horlas. Need I say more?"

He clicked his tongue. "Kitty, do you have the Amulet?"

Kitty fished in her black coat's pocket for it and handed it to Nathaniel without comment. I winced. That blasted Amulet had caused me enough grief to last a lifetime, thank you very much. Imagine my surprise when he twisted around to give it to me instead. "It'll absorb the Nexus and Hexes, right? And the horlas wouldn't dare come near it."

Colour me impressed. Even when he had sweat pooling on his forehead and upper lip, and his hands were as steady as leaves in the wind, this piece of work had actually made a good suggestion.

So obviously what came next was the biggest explosion yet, followed by the green flashes of multiple Detonations. I threw Sam to the floor behind me and stood in front of the group, the Amulet glimmering and pulsing on my chest. It absorbed every single Detonation almost hungrily. There was some more screaming, panicked running and doors closing.

The explosion had taken down a wall, and there was a thick cloud of smoke billowing in through the hole. For such an explosive entrance, this hybrid sure had managed to be quiet when it counted. I was beginning to understand how he'd entered undetected the first time.

I didn't want to cast a Hurricane without knowing precisely where everyone was—spirits and humans; they are too destructive, and this hybrid was already filling in that role. Besides, doing that would only expose our position. Instead, I began to back away slowly, urging the trio behind me to follow my lead.

As the smoke cleared, the humanoid shape became clearer. There was something annoyingly familiar here, which was hardly ever a good thing. (2) The hybrid approached at a slow, menacing pace. Feeling extra paranoid because of that itching inkling that I recognised this presence from somewhere, I threw a Shield around Kitty, Nathaniel and Sam.

(2) The downside to having such an illustrious career is inevitably making some enemies along the way. But any wise being will tell you that it's never a good thing when everyone agrees with you—take the utukku, for example. Those intellectual creatures can barely distinguish between the sharp and blunt ends of a spear. You wouldn't want them to get behind your ideas. Or admittedly just behind you at all.

Soon, I was able to see him much better. The magician's body was almost entirely gone, pieces of skin barely clinging to the red flesh beneath it. A pair of majestic, bronze angel wings sprouted from his back, and four pairs of eyes from his face. He had protruding, sharp canines, and three amber fox tails standing on end. His four muscled arms covered in alternating gold and red scales were flexed and ready to fire. And then there were the fiery hooves, of course. (3) They scorched the floor where they stood.

(3) Yes, there they were, those thrice-damned hooves. Either afrits can't or won't get rid of them, and that'll tell you of their stealth skills.

It was the most bizarre combination the Other Place and Earth had ever created—for this could be nothing if not some begrudging compromise between the two, probably out of the hybrid's own volition too. No spirit looked that human. And yet this was so utterly perverse that it couldn't be called that either.

I could almost hear the wheels in Sam's brain screeching to a halt as he gasped. So this was probably the same hybrid that had killed Farrar. But we were all so astonished that we hadn't moved for a while and he was closer now. The view certainly didn't get any less disturbing, but it also didn't help me remember.

It all clicked into place when he spoke.

"You, spirit protecting those humans, we're the same kind. We're brothers! Come now and together we'll decimate them. You'll be freed!"

My essence began to simmer at that voice.

"Asmodeus," I greeted through gritted teeth. "It's been a while."

He paused, no doubt examining the seventh plane for an answer. He needn't have bothered—I'd been keeping Ptolemy's shape just up to the fourth. I could pinpoint the moment he'd found my true form from the glint in his eyes.

"It has, hasn't it? You'll have to forgive me for not recognising you straight away. We higher beings rarely ever concern ourselves with what you lesser spirits do. But seeing that guise… it does refresh my memory. I recall pursuing you while you protected your master—the same one you're impersonating in such detail." His stare was filled with contempt. "But that was what—two thousand years ago?"

"Two thousand, one hundred and twenty-nine years ago," I corrected, and Nathaniel gasped—Lord knows why.

Asmodeus ignored me. "I must say I'm a bit disappointed, Bartimaeus," he continued idly, glancing at a couple of humans hiding and whimpering behind a desk. "There are rumours you merged with magician John Mandrake over there and didn't take over his brain, that you killed the great Nouda with Gladstone's Staff of all things. These are all serious accusations, Bartimaeus. But you know me—I'm a merciful judge. What do you have to say in your defence?"

What do you say to this load of codswallop? I considered telling Asmodeus to shove his merciful judging in a place where the sun didn't shine, following that with a rude gesture and a Detonation to the head, but with three humans behind me, I was stymied. Even if I tried to jump out the window with them now, speed would fail me. Besides, my essence was spinning so fast and so hot that the edges of my vision had blurred.

"If you have business with me, that's one thing. But the others have nothing to do with it. Let them go," Nathaniel said thickly. And very dumbly. He was still shaking, that idiot.

"Are you stupid?" Kitty demanded, ever the observant one. "He'll tear you apart!"

"Please leave. This is a hospital," Sam tried to reason in a timid voice. "You caused enough damage last time." There was the confirmation. At least one of them was properly intimidated, because really, wasn't this the perfect opportunity for chatter. Right when the murderous hybrid was ready to strike. Some people really don't know when to shut up.

"I'm just here to finish the job," Asmodeus replied, keeping up the calm and composed act. "If you stand aside and let me take him, I'll try not to destroy the entire building."

"Very well," the suicidal imbecile said, rolling his chair forward.

"Are you trying to be a martyr again?" I asked incredulously, pulling the chair back with one hand. My rage was boiling so hard I was surprised my essence wasn't trying to spill from my ears.

"I'm just doing what's right—"

Asmodeus sent a Detonation in warning. The Amulet absorbed it, of course, but I could still feel the heat in my face. It wouldn't matter in the grand scheme of things. He wasn't a spirit anymore—not really—so when it came down to it, he'd gleefully punch me out the window and the Amulet wouldn't be able to absorb him.

Asmodeus gave me a knowing, mocking look. "Again, Bartimaeus?"

The image of a young boy bleeding out and left alone to die flashed in my mind. My essence steamed, making my extremities undoubtedly smoky. "Shut it, Asmodeus," I growled.

"I do remember how his cries echoed in that chamber. He was left to die all by himself too. Such a frail little human…"

"You absolute wanker," Kitty barked as she stomped forward to stand beside me, surprising everyone in the room, even Asmodeus, and snapping me out of it. "I thought spirits took no pleasure in their kills. After all, aren't they all ordered by magicians?"

Asmodeus shrugged, clearly unbothered by her observations, perhaps even a little amused. "Listen, girlie, I don't know what that blithering idiot told you, but the smartest among us feel no moral obligation towards any human. So I'd shut my mouth if I were you." He sounded eerily cheerful about this too, which wiped out my already little guilt regarding the unprofessional grudge I was holding.

Kitty had barely growled out a, "Bite me, arsehole," when the nearest water cooler slammed against Asmodeus, bursting in the process. Guessing that that probably wouldn't do much in the long run, I threw the vending machine as well. Luckily for me, he clearly hadn't been expecting a non-magical attack. Several canned drinks exploded as the machine dragged him back to the other end of the corridor, bringing me much bliss.

"What?" I asked the three bewildered humans. "Would you rather I threw the expensive medical equipment instead?"

No one protested. I swiftly changed into a bulky, four-armed youth with angel wings—just to give Asmodeus one last middle finger—and fired two Detonations at the wall to make a big enough opening for the four of us. Then I grabbed my three wide-eyed charges and flew out the window.

He wouldn't stay down for long, and I had already left an Asmodeus-shaped indentation on a wall, so I had to get out of the hospital to avoid further damage. It left me speechless that Asmodeus would come to a hospital of his own free will to avenge his—what? Boss? Idol? I didn't really know what to label Nouda, with the possible exception of utterly bonkers.

The cold wind hit my face as soon as we were out of the hospital. Night had fallen, but I doubted that would help us much. When Nathaniel and I had merged, my vision hadn't been impaired in the slightest; there was no reason for Asmodeus's to be less than perfect.

A mass of people had gathered in the gardens, half of them wearing hospital attire. I spotted a few security guards working in tandem with medical staff to carry out patients who couldn't walk. The horlas were going mad in their search, inspecting everyone at random to find the culprit and very nearly giving people heart attacks. I would have loved to tell them that that really wasn't the point of a hospital, but that would just keep the cycle going.

When we landed by the fountain, Sam and Kitty immediately wiggled out of my grip, both groaning and complaining about the flying. Nathaniel looked a little green himself, but it was hard to tell if it'd been from the trip or his general reaction to the attack.

"So this is the thanks I get. What an ungrateful race," I said indignantly, betraying my tone by gently putting Nathaniel down. There was no telling what vomit did to one's essence, and I wasn't keen on finding out.

"Bartimaeus, you fly like a drunken bird," Nathaniel rasped with a grimace. He swayed a bit, but didn't faceplant, which I'd count as a point in favour of my flying skills regardless of what he said.

"BARTIMAEUS!" Asmodeus roared from the opening I'd made just moments ago, attracting the attention of everyone in the gardens. There were gasps and whimpers all around. "Come and face me, you traitor!"

Honestly, what a melodramatic performance. This was why we were losing our reputation among magicians and commoners alike. Who was going to fear such a prima donna? By this point I half expected him to produce a sword and challenge me to a duel for the honour of beheading Nathaniel. Really, after all I'd endured, like hell anyone else would get the chance.

"We need to move," Nathaniel whined, putting a hand to the fountain's edge to support himself and touching his side with the other. His face was pinched.

"Right. Kitty, you and Sam try to find a phone or an imp. Police and fire services first. And then—you said Piper was at an event in Richmond, right?" Kitty nodded. "Call her, message her, whatever you can do."

"What about you?" she asked anxiously. This was some sort of cruel déjà vu for sure.

"Mandrake and I will get that lunatic away from the crowd. We can't risk a fight here."

Sam's eyes widened. "That's really not—"

"Can't talk," I cut him off. Asmodeus had spotted us and was flexing his wings. I hastily grabbed Nathaniel and took to the skies, Asmodeus immediately following. "What do you say, Nat? For old times' sake?"

"Hope not. Hearing your chattering outside my head is bad enough."

"Good to know you still have some fight left in you," I retorted as I dove out of the way of a Detonation. The Amulet was fun and all, but it wasn't on my back, and my Shields would only do so well against an afrit.

Nathaniel hissed when the Detonation hit a tree, immediately setting it on fire. "You need to fly lower and over the river."

"I'm not sure he'll be weak to water now," I protested, turning towards the Thames anyway and heading upstream.

"He clearly didn't like to have that water cooler thrown at him," he pointed out. "And this way he won't hit people."

Fair point. "Well, if we don't drown him, maybe he'll faint from the smell."

"Come back here, you coward!" Asmodeus shouted, firing another set of Detonations. The chase was getting old and we were barely two minutes in.

I ducked and spun out of the way of three with the grace of an airborne ballerina, but the fourth grazed my left wing. I cursed as I kept flying and spinning. Asmodeus wasn't stopping anytime soon. Meanwhile, Nathaniel hung on for dear life, digging his nails in my shoulders even though I was using two very strong and very capable arms to carry him. Honestly, I'd cut his nails this week! The sheer unfairness of this situation, I tell you.

"You could at least look over my shoulder and tell me what to expect!"

That stunned him silent for a moment. Then Nathaniel replied quite petulantly with: "You're a djinni! Grow eyes on your back, you fool!"

"Oh. Right." Taking his advice, I put a pair of eyes between my wings. Nathaniel muttered something about how I was always conveniently shirtless, but I was surely hearing things. After all, the wind was hissing violently in my ears and Asmodeus hadn't stopped shouting obscenities in a multitude of languages. It was foul, I tell you. "Let's see—oh! The horlas have finally worked out what's happening. It didn't take them the usual century." Indeed, they were hot on his tail, but Asmodeus was too enraged to slow down, so they wouldn't reach him soon.

Nathaniel seemed to be thinking along the same lines. "If the horlas get him…"

"Way ahead of you, Nat," I sang, giving him a mischievous smirk. He squinted ahead before turning to me and mirroring my expression. I'd almost forgot the old thrill of doing reckless things with him. Usually he was appalled, sometimes confused, but after our last stunt he must have absorbed some of my sense of humour. It was about time.

As we approached Lambeth Bridge, I began slowing down as imperceptibly as I could. Asmodeus kept going at full speed, his fangs bared in triumph. The horlas struggled to keep the pace. The closer we came to the bridge, the more grateful I was for its steel and concrete structure.

"Might as well give up now, traitor!" Asmodeus sounded closer than ever. He was right where I wanted him.

Just as it seemed I would fly over the bridge, I suddenly dove under an arch with vertiginous speed. Asmodeus kept going, aimed, and let out a handful of Detonations. But I had screeched nearly to a halt under the bridge and swiftly turned around, drawing a perfect semicircle on the water. In hindsight, he probably killed some fish, if there were still any surviving in these stinky waters.

The look on Asmodeus's face was priceless. He looked so gobsmacked you'd think I had actually smacked him across the face. Nathaniel seemed to think so too. He had twisted his head around to watch and I could feel his grin forming against my cheek. It was almost a pity when the horlas obscured him from my vision. But I would store that image for later. Now it was best to keep flying at top speed and let them handle it.

It didn't take much for the hospital to discharge Nathaniel. I suspected they were growing tired of hybrid attacks. And believe you me, so was I.

Dr Elgar and Sam didn't seem happy about this premature discharge, but I'd wager the former just wanted to keep examining Nathaniel until she cracked the mystery. At least Sam had shown genuine concern. It was in that endless hour of examining and bureaucracy that I noticed Nathaniel had grown somewhat attached.

Well, certainly not to everyone. Nathaniel seemed to view Dr Elgar as neutral territory for now, likewise for the nurses who came when Sam was off duty. His physiotherapist—Naomi? Noelle? None of my business?—had taken the brunt of his bad temper for sure. But Nathaniel treated Sam well—in a friendly manner even, which would be surprising if Sam hadn't already proved that he could probably cure terminal diseases with the power of a blinding smile and kind patience. It was positively disturbing.

But I digress. After Nathaniel was effectively discharged with a lengthy prescription and proper admonishment for his eating habits, Piper finally showed up looking like she'd attended a funeral. (4) She took her time examining him and Kitty before forcing us all inside her car.

(4) It baffles me too. Well, I suppose humans' senses of fashion have always eluded me. For one thing, no one listened to me when I said the hobble skirt was a mistake, yet I was the one who had to catch all those French ladies whenever they had to walk anywhere. Garden parties were a big human domino effect.

And that's how the four of us ended up in Nathaniel's kitchen at late hours, three of us looking ready to pass out on top of the table. (5) So far, Nathaniel had forced Piper to tell him what was going on with the hybrids and the hospital, which somehow had led to Kitty explaining their absence throughout the week—in other words, the tale of her midnight scare. Now there was only silence, unfocused gazes, and a very bored djinni.

(5) I draw the line here. If it's not obvious who the three are, then I can't help you.

"So," I cheerily began when the silence became too deafening, "what's next?"

Piper shrugged half-heartedly, not moving the blank stare from her tea. "There are a few parties searching for Asmodeus as we speak, but I haven't received any updates. Apparently, Mr Brunetti—he was at the fundraiser—volunteered to help, but no one else did, obviously. Not that I think he can do much. He'll probably want something in return afterwards too." Then she groaned in frustration. "The press is going to have a field day tomorrow."

"It'll certainly be exciting. Nearly as much as when that guy Jesus allegedly resurrected." I sighed wistfully. "Farquarl always had fun scaring humans silly. I have to say, for all his eccentricities, he sure pulled some hilarious pranks when the mood called for it. Pity he let the whole world domination thing take over his life."

The three of them stared at me. I could tell Kitty was trying not to laugh and failing miserably. Piper cleared her throat. "For now, we need to make sure panic doesn't spread. It's become clear over the past weeks that the hybrid situation hasn't been going as well as we'd hoped. We've been able to contain the minor incidents, but this… The press won't go easy on us." After a pause, she added, "If it hadn't escaped…"

Before I could throw an apple at her, Nathaniel said, "We did everything we could." I blinked at him, wondering if I'd somehow hit his head against a wall or a tree during our escape. "Bartimaeus couldn't hope to overpower an afrit." I opened my mouth to protest, but he wasn't done. "Besides, if he hadn't forced Asmodeus out of the hospital, who knows what would've happened."

"I'm not trying to imply it's your fault," Piper said slowly, giving me a serious look. "I'm glad you were there at all, Bartimaeus. If I'd had my way when Kitty first brought you in, who knows what would have happened to Mr Mandrake."

A pause. "Damn right."

"The press certainly won't put it that way," Kitty weighed in, sending another wave of optimism throughout the room.

Nathaniel had been slowly but surely lowering his face to the table since Piper had put a mug in front of him. There was only enough room between his chin and the table for me to flick his chin. I almost did out of sheer boredom.

But Piper's distress must have got to him. He forced himself to straighten up and grace us with his wisdom. "Well, I wouldn't worry too much about the press. Just be sure to address everything properly in a press release to avoid speculation. For starters, my condition was kept a secret for safety reasons, so that's that. Now that there are no magicians staying at St Thomas, it shouldn't be attacked again. From what you've told me, there are teams pursuing the hybrids, and you have alerted nearby cities as well. You may need more resources there, but at least you're not sitting around doing nothing like the former council would have. As for the damage done by Bartimaeus, I'll take care of it."

That little speech seemed to take a serious amount of effort. When he was done, Nathaniel fell back against his chair, breathing a little irregularly. Meanwhile, Piper looked as though Nathaniel had offered her an early Christmas present. Honestly, this woman needed to take a sip from the fountain of confidence the former council had seemed to bathe in. Sometimes it was hard to believe she was a magician at all. On the other hand, Kitty seemed vaguely impressed by Nathaniel's words. No doubt her being there had influenced him to be all breezy about this. He was probably fuming that he hadn't been offered a seat in council yet, even though he'd been discharged from the hospital only four hours before.

"Well, you heard him," Kitty said after a while. "We'll deal with it in the morning. Now we should go and let him get some rest. I don't know about you, but I could sleep for a week."

"Granny," I whispered. Kitty narrowed her eyes at me, but said nothing.

Piper's eyes widened as she noticed Nathaniel's state. "Oh, right." She hesitated before adding, "Do you need anything?"

Nathaniel gave her a half smile. "No, thank you. I'm going straight to bed now."

"Of course. We'll be back in the morning, but if you need anything—"

"Yes, I know," he said gently. I'd never heard him being gentle with anyone. He must be running quite the fever. "And you can call me Nathaniel, by the way. I know you know, and I think we're past formalities now."

First he'd told Kitty, and now Rebecca Piper, the Prime Minister of England. You'd think he hadn't thrown a fit when I found out. But no, it was the demon he had to worry about, not the person with the means to destroy him. Human logic.

And Piper looked delighted by this permission, of course. "Thank you, Nathaniel." She smiled. "Goodnight."

I maintain that an eye roll was the only appropriate reaction to this. Kitty caught me and shook her head at me as she grinned.

"Goodnight," Kitty echoed, already at the door. She motioned with her head for Piper to follow and exited the room. Then she remembered something and stuck her head back in. "Bartimaeus, be nice."

I glared at her. "Just go away." She laughed and, with a mock salute, finally left. The front door closed with a soft click shortly afterwards.

The silence stretched for quite a while this time around. Nathaniel took a few sips of his tea, not saying anything, but clearly going over everything for the hundredth time. After a while, I got up and took the mugs Kitty and Piper had left on the table. I washed them as he drank, for lack of a better thing to do, engaging in self-disgust as soon as I noticed what I was doing.

Not for the first time I noticed how this kitchen barely looked lived in, with its pristine granite countertops and empty dish drainer. If I opened the fridge, I doubted I would find much of anything. Which would make sense given how long it'd been since he was home, but this was no different from before. With the addition of Nathaniel's human perception still rattling my mind, and naturally years of personal observation, this kitchen felt about as homely as his hospital room. Perhaps even less so, since no one brought him flowers here. My essence lurched uncomfortably as I looked at him hunched over his tea, in his frail, vulnerable body, continuously shrouded in the shadow of responsibility. Right then I couldn't help thinking that he looked very lonely.

"Bartimaeus?" he called in a small voice, snapping me out of my bizarre train of thought.

"Hm?"

"I can't move."

Now he had my full attention. "You can't move?" I immediately began looking him up and down, trying to figure out what was wrong. To me he looked as puny as always.

And because 'surprise' was the word of the day, Nathaniel gave me a sheepish look. I nearly pinched myself. "I meant that I don't think I can walk. The adrenaline must have worn off." When I did nothing but blink back at him, Nathaniel cleared his throat and elaborated, "Adrenaline is the hormone responsible for—"

"Yes, I know what it is. Don't give me that look—I've been around for five thousand years."

He shut his mouth, but just for a moment. I knew what he was implying, and regardless of the fact that his body was probably beyond exhausted thanks to all the fun we'd had that day, I'd already figured I would have to carry him to his room. For one thing, his wheelchair certainly wouldn't get him up the stairs and, regardless of how well his physiotherapy sessions were progressing, climbing stairs still seemed like a daunting obstacle, especially today.

Finally, he said, "Right. I'm sure it'll wear off in a bit. I'll just sit here and finish my tea meanwhile. Kitty gave you free rein, right? Must be nice; you can go wherever you like." He topped it off with what he must have thought was a genuine and brave smile.

This stubborn, idiotic tosser. For the second time that day, the appropriate response was nothing short of a rude gesture. But that was it. If he wasn't going to grace me with the request, then I sure as hell wasn't going to offer to do it for him, no sir. I wasn't his slave anymore and he was absolutely correct in stating that I could go wherever I wanted.

"Right. Goodnight, then." And I turned and left, just like that.

Freedom is bliss. Let's see… where should I go first? France sounded nice. I'd get to point and make fun of all the ways fashion was being ruined these days. Ah, Greece. All those old temples were in dire need of mischievous spirits echoing madness to make the tourists run. Maybe I'd visit Prague again; I'd enjoyed the chaos of that city.

My footsteps ceased when I reached the front door. The image of him sitting by himself in the kitchen wouldn't leave me, nor would the look on his face when we'd heard the first explosion. Mentally swearing in French, Greek and Czech, I stomped my way back to the kitchen, only to find him leaning heavily against his chair, his skinny rear halfway out of the chair and his arms trembling from the effort.

That only annoyed me further. "You're a bloody idiot," I said, shoving a finger in his face for emphasis.

His surprise melted into faint annoyance. He struggled in vain to get upright. "Did you come back just for that? That's nothing you haven't said before, is it? At least come up with a new insult if you're going to make a dramatic return." All this was said with the healthy and potent breath of someone's granny, such was his current lung capacity.

Regardless, it robbed me of some steam. I reckoned he was too tired to get riled up, so I was forced to play that role instead. Stupid Nathaniel. I should have dropped him in the Thames to spare me all this trouble. "You'll get more effort in new insults when your actions deserve original content. Continuing to act recklessly and stupidly doesn't fill the criteria. Now ask me what you need before I change my mind."

"Aren't you hurt?" he motioned with his head to my arm, craning his neck a little to try and see it. I was back in Ptolemy's guise, and the small wound had transferred from my wing to my arm. It still stung a little, but there was nothing I could do besides wait it out.

"Please, who do you think I am? I barely feel it."

He nodded, seemingly pleased to learn that. Git. "Regardless, I told you I wouldn't summon you again after... you know." I raised an eyebrow at his blatant avoidance. If he couldn't even call it by its name, then it was worse than I'd thought. "I meant it. I won't ask you for anything anymore."

Such timing for self-improvement, eh? "You do realise that I stayed at the hospital as your babysitter and bodyguard for two whole weeks, yes? What is it now? Did you find a better djinni now that you have options? One who comes free of backtalk and doesn't know all sorts of weird secrets, hm?"

Nathaniel gave me an incredulous look. "You are being ridiculous. Kitty made you stay. You two are such great friends now that you do her favours."

"Green isn't a good colour on you, Nat. Really, you were just short of throwing yourself in front of her today. And they say chivalry is dead."

He managed to look genuinely confused when he said, "What are you talking about?" But he wasn't fooling me. "I saw no point in the four of us dying if Asmodeus just wanted me. Or of him destroying the entire hospital." He paused, staring at me and seeming to debate whether he should say more. "Besides, what would be the point of you dying after I used what little strength I had left then to dismiss you?" The intensity in his gaze contradicted his soft tone.

Suddenly the air in the kitchen felt denser. Nathaniel swallowed thickly and I reckoned it couldn't be my imagination if he could feel it too. Who knew how he was breathing this air? I checked the higher planes. No, I wasn't doing anything. Strange.

Finally I cleared my throat and said, "I suppose that makes sense." Before it could get even more awkward, I added, "But Kitty has been studying up on punishments and finding you sprawled on the kitchen floor certainly wouldn't look good. So shut up and let me get you to bed."

Nathaniel blinked. "…Okay."

It only occurred to me after I'd left him in his room that I'd done exactly what he'd wanted from the start.

Two hours later, a sand cat settled on the roof. It studied the waning moon with great attention as it absently scratched an itching spot behind one large ear with a muddied paw. There had been light showers all night, making the ground wet and the air smell earthy. Midnight sounds in London were rarely ever nature-induced, but tonight there were the waterdrops from leaves and roofs into small puddles on the ground, and the odd frog croaking and disappearing behind foliage.

All was calm at last.

By all accounts, Nathaniel knew what he was doing; he'd rigged the place with defences before leaving. Good thing for him that he'd been smart enough not to specify the timeframe for the sentries and foliots to be around. Not so great for them, obviously. He'd also been clever enough to employ a spherical Nexus instead of the typical dome. (6) Then there were the Hexes. They were multiple and all very nasty-looking. I'd nearly got my tail caught in one on the way to the roof and let me tell you—I did not like the malicious energy coming off it. No wonder none of his enemies had been able to land a hit.

(6) So I'd checked. Really, with our luck, Asmodeus or some other hybrid would come barrelling in and screaming bloody murder. Afrits weren't any fonder of diving underground than djinn, but if it hadn't deterred me from breaking into Lovelace's house, then it surely wouldn't stop a hybrid.

But it wasn't Nathaniel's fortress that occupied my thoughts that night. Rather it was Asmodeus and, by extension, Ptolemy. I didn't much like to think about Ptolemy's death. For one thing, it was pointless. For another, reliving it never cheered me up; it certainly didn't feel any easier now than it had two thousand, one hundred and twenty-nine years ago.

No, I'd rather think about Ptolemy at his best—studying, asking a plethora of questions at vertiginous speed, searching the market for anchovy bread. The sand cat smiled. Ptolemy sure had loved his anchovy bread. But all his passion and knowledge hadn't mattered in the end. To die just aged fourteen, thus robbing the world of such understanding and wisdom, and us spirits of the promised change to come, was beyond cruel.

For millennia it hadn't mattered to me who had done it or who had ordered it. I cared nothing for human wars and falling empires; it didn't matter which flag the killer had been waving. In the end, they'd all died too. And I couldn't blame fellow spirits from carrying out their tasks; after all, I would've done the same. Simple as that.

For millennia that logic had been enough. I'd carried Ptolemy's memory with me. I'd mourned a human. I'd sometimes worked with the spirits who had killed him, but we don't talk or brag about killing defenceless children. There is hardly anything noble or fun about it, is there?

A whimper startled the sand cat. Its ears twitched as the sounds continued, tracing its source back to the room below. The cat approached the rain gutter and, favouring its front left leg, hopped to a tree branch and then to the windowsill. Looking through the window and the space left between the curtains, the cat spotted a human twisting in bed. Checking planes two through seven didn't reveal a second presence in the room.

Another nightmare, then. Nathaniel had experienced a few in the hospital, but he'd usually just say gibberish and move a little. He'd wake up from hurting his side or his shoulder, sometimes from unknowingly pulling at the IV drip. It was taking him a while now, but I certainly didn't know how to calm him down. So I watched and waited until he eventually settled down. Meanwhile I fruitlessly tried to scratch at the itch below my ear. Annoyed, I changed into an owl and sighed as both the itch and the ever-present ache disappeared for the moment.

Feeling more clear-headed after the change, I allowed my thoughts to return to Asmodeus. I didn't know if he'd never had a kind master, or what horrible traumas he'd been subjected to. Really, after Ptolemy's death, I hadn't seen much of him. What I knew was that he'd stepped on the basic rules of decency among spirits: one, he'd gloated about a cruel kill, and two, he'd willingly left the Other Place to go on a killing spree, not caring if he had to kill fellow spirits to accomplish his goals. Not even Nouda had been that revolting.

Besides, my popularity back home had noticeably slipped. Even those who had opposed Farquarl's plans were mad at me. Needless to say that my stay hadn't been welcome and peaceful this time around. And this I'd happily blame on the hybrids.

Nathaniel mumbled something that sounded like begging and the owl shut its eyes with a sigh. Okay, fine—three, Asmodeus had targeted yet another (almost) defenceless human whom I happened not to hate anymore. He'd also not cared how many innocent people and spirits that would put at risk.

I wasn't daft—the only reason we'd made it out alive was because Asmodeus had never assumed I'd attack him, even after hearing all those rumours about Nathaniel and I working together to bring down the hybrids. Under normal circumstances, I suppose I wouldn't have. And under normal circumstances, I would happily go home and leave this problem to the humans.

But it was personal now. Asmodeus was going down if that was the last thing I did.

Many thanks to anjumstar for being her usual awesome self and finding the silliest mistakes. It could be argued that there'd be a lot more comedy without her edits, but you know how obsessed I am with linguistics.