So, little me had a minor case of perfectionism blues coupled with weeks and weeks of sleep deprivation (thanks, kitty), and here we are again. But did you truly think I'd let Pride Month roll by without doing anything? Hell no, I say. See if I don't explode in rainbows instead. Here's to you, my LGBTQIAD+ fam, wherever you are in the world or closet-wise, for being absolutely fabulous. And whenever you're feeling down, just remember the time when we allegedly stole the rainbow from god like the badasses we are.

Trigger warning (TW): flashback scene. Please skip the first scene if you're not comfortable reading about it.

Chapter Seventeen

translucent

Nathaniel

The town car dropped them off in Hyde Park.

Nathaniel and Bartimaeus found themselves close to what used to be the Rose Garden, a decapitated Statue of Achilles saluting them on the other side. The sun had left for its slumber, covering itself with a blanket of clouds and stars. There was the promise of rain in the air, but the wind was mild.

Nathaniel stared at the expanse of foliage with the same detachment he would consider a glass of water. There was nothing there. Just green. What did it matter what this place had seen when it was no more? Memories were insubstantial things, reality was solid.

He could do this.

As soon as he stepped out of the car, trepidation had Nathaniel in its grip. Slowly, tauntingly, the world began tapering off, erasing everything until it was just him and the park. Feeling his hands beginning to tremble, Nathaniel balled them into fists and shoved them into his coat's pockets. Bartimaeus's forgiveness had buoyed him in a dreamy cloud of warmth. Now there was little of that warmth left, substituted by a cold certainty that he wasn't ready for this at all.

"Hey," whispered Bartimaeus, nonetheless startling Nathaniel by his closeness. Bartimaeus stepped back without comment. "If you want to wait in the car—"

Nathaniel shook his head stubbornly, not trusting his voice to say anything. And then he saw it—a hybrid. Nathaniel choked on a scream. He ordered his legs to move but was ignored. What was he doing? There was a hybrid—no, two. Three. Where was the staff? How could he have dropped it?

A Detonation hissed right by his ear and Nathaniel whirled around, seeing the wall of fire behind him for the first time. Hybrids danced around the fire, throwing bodies into it. The screams were buried deep, deep in Nathaniel's skull. Unable to handle any more of it, Nathaniel stepped back, only to bump into something. He went for a backhanded punch, but his wrist was caught in a firm grip.

"Nat?" It was Bartimaeus, he realised. The djinni had placed himself between Nathaniel and the upturned soil that led to the Glass Palace. They were still so far away. Why? And where was the bloody staff?

"Hey, look at me."

Nathaniel forced himself to find Bartimaeus's eyes, but his attention kept shifting to the destruction. The Glass Palace was on fire behind Bartimaeus, collapsing on itself with a pained groan. There were people screaming and running, disformed creatures rushing after them, cackling, pointed tongues licking huge teeth.

There was blood everywhere.

He was going to die. They were going to die. Without the staff, it was pointless to even try. He desperately looked at Bartimaeus, trying to convey with his eyes only that they needed to do something. Run or help, he wasn't sure. But Bartimaeus didn't move, and miraculously, not a single Detonation hit them.

"Breathe slowly," Bartimaeus said, and Nathaniel noticed how ragged his breathing had become. "I'm here, Nat. You're safe. I've got you."

But the hybrids. Couldn't Bartimaeus see them? They were everywhere!

"Breathe. In for four and out for eight."

It was hard to push against the need to breathe faster, to take in as much air as possible right away, but Bartimaeus's voice was familiar and soothing, pressing softly into his mind. He inhaled and counted to four, he exhaled and counted to eight.

"That's right. Nicely done, keep going. Now let's move a little, alright?"

Nathaniel nodded, still trying to get his breathing under control. Bartimaeus put two fingers to Nathaniel's elbow and walked him over to the decapitated statue. His legs wobbled the whole way and he turned around to check on the hybrids more than once, but they didn't seem to be any closer. If anything, they were getting dimmer. Bartimaeus kept assuring him that he was safe, and that was enough for him to get one unsteady foot in front of the other.

Nathaniel fell against the statue, heart hammering, blinking rapidly to keep the tears from his eyes as understanding sunk deeper and deeper into his stomach. His hair and clothes were a bit wet, but he hadn't noticed the drizzle until that moment. He was cold, not warm, and there were chills running all over his body. Desperate for an anchor, Nathaniel found the surface of the statue behind him and thumbed the lines of the plaque, trying to make out the words without looking. This was real and solid and safe.

There was no fire.

The hybrids were gone.

In their wake, they'd left a shaking, panting, scared boy. His stomach trembled with each breath he took, as if protesting having to belong to such a weak body. There was a piercing coldness in his bones, and his skin was tingling, rubbed raw by his demons.

"How are you feeling?" Bartimaeus asked softly, gaze travelling all over Nathaniel's face. Everything had been soft-spoken. He never knew Bartimaeus could even produce such a sound. It was the best discovery of the whole day.

Nathaniel's hand shot out to grab Bartimaeus's of its own accord. He needed to feel something—anything—that was alive.

Bartimaeus's cold, soft hand was all that and more.

"Sorry, just for a minute. Is that alright?"

Nathaniel's fingers were trembling too, of course, because the situation wasn't humiliating enough already. Bartimaeus was gathering the best material for payback later. This went well past knowing Nathaniel's birth name, or having been in his very mind and nearly watching him die. No, now Bartimaeus knew just how weak Nathaniel was, and how to draw out that weakness.

Bartimaeus laced their fingers together and squeezed, putting a stop to his spiralling.

"Agreement, four letters."

Nathaniel looked at Bartimaeus in confusion, getting an eye roll in return. "So I get bored sometimes and complete a few crossword puzzles. Let's not make a big deal out of this."

"Okay?" he heard himself mumble, baffled at what Bartimaeus had just told him. Still, playing along couldn't be worse than shivering under the scarce protection of a headless statue while holding hands with a djinni who knew exactly how to ruin him.

"So… agreement, four letters."

Nathaniel's mind was pushing against rubber, unwilling to focus on anything that wasn't the hybrids and the fall of London. Nonetheless, he powered through the cobwebs and the fog in his mind. It couldn't be 'contract' since it had too many letters…

"Pact?" he offered meekly.

He turned his head hesitantly to find Bartimaeus grinning impishly at him. "Right in one," he said. "I reckon we should make one. A pact."

Still trying to hush the panicked voices in his head that wanted to drag him to the past, Nathaniel didn't have the mental space to think much of Bartimaeus's suggestion. So he simply asked, "What would we put in it?"

"You know we don't have to do this now. We can keep playing. I have quite a few puzzles memorised."

At any other time, Nathaniel would have called out Bartimaeus for being a show-off. But not now. He barely had the energy to breathe. "No, I need to think about something else."

"I bet," Bartimaeus said, rubbing his thumb soothingly over Nathaniel's. It was such a small gesture, but some of the knots of anxiety came undone just like that.

"Okay then." Bartimaeus cleared his throat as he scanned the rose-less Rose Garden. "For starters, you need to consult me when you're making decisions about yours truly."

"That's… fair, I suppose," Nathaniel said, frowning at nothing in particular.

"Damn right it is," Bartimaeus grumbled good-naturedly, gently shoving Nathaniel with his shoulder.

Nathaniel tensed up momentarily, then relaxed against him. He had this strange urge to rest his head on Bartimaeus's shoulder. "And what else should be in this pact?"

"You ask me for stuff rather than expecting it."

Nathaniel kept his eyes trained on the horizon as the reality of those words pressed on him. "I'm allowed to ask?" He hoped his voice wasn't as tiny as it sounded to his ears.

After everything that had happened, and after getting such vehement rejection when he'd asked Bartimaeus to help him with the overruling pentacle, Nathaniel had concluded that he simply didn't have the right to even ask anymore.

Kitty's words about Bartimaeus's reality weren't lost on him, nor was the weight of Bartimaeus's memories and feelings—with or without Ptolemy in them. Once he'd allowed himself to think of Bartimaeus as a person, it was a lot harder to ignore everything he'd done, an instinct he'd already had to fight before delving into Bartimaeus's mind. Nathaniel had managed to get Bartimaeus's forgiveness and that bolstered his confidence for the future, but he'd apologised for a misunderstanding, not mistreatment.

There was still so much he needed to do.

"You can ask, and I can decide if I want to do it or not," Bartimaeus said matter-of-factly.

Nathaniel nodded, not trusting himself to say anything.

"Now, what do you want?" Nathaniel's astonishment must have shown, because Bartimaeus promptly continued: "If we're going to keep spending time together, I can't be the only one making demands. That wouldn't be a fair… relationship."

For some reason, that word made Nathaniel blush. Bartimaeus was tense too, studying the sky like it held all the answers to his predicament. Suddenly acutely aware of their joined hands, Nathaniel's heart had moved to his throat, ready to run out of his mouth. Whoever had first talked about wearing one's heart in one's sleeve surely knew nothing about hearts, at least as far as Nathaniel's was concerned. It didn't stay neatly tucked away, lying in wait for the next time it would be needed. No, it did whatever the hell it pleased, especially when he was around Bartimaeus. And now Nathaniel was beginning to realise that there were some words saved there meant only for him.

"I want…" He swallowed, hoping to bury at least some of the words before he made a further fool of himself. "I want you to tell me when something I do isn't right with you. I can't hope to stop making the same mistakes if you don't tell me what's wrong and how I can fix it."

Bartimaeus's gaze landed on him, surprised and so intense the shivers returned. "That's… unexpected, but I'll try my best."

"Great," Nathaniel squeaked. "Next word!"

They played for a few more minutes, Bartimaeus stealing smile after smile from Nathaniel, until all the awkwardness bled out from them. The shivers never left, however, fluttering up and down Nathaniel's stomach every time Bartimaeus squeezed his hand or laughed. Nathaniel found he didn't mind these quite so much.

"Better?" Bartimaeus asked eventually.

"Yes." Nathaniel swallowed over a new lump forming in his throat. "Thank you, Bartimaeus. Truly." There, that wasn't so hard, and Bartimaeus looked utterly gobsmacked, which was definitely a bonus.

"You're welcome," Bartimaeus said. Was Nathaniel imagining the tightness in his voice? "Now, I have to go search for that dumbass. What do you want to do?"

Nathaniel blinked at the scenery before him, breath catching again at the thought of moving further in. "I can't—I…" He snapped his eyes back to Bartimaeus's face. Taking a deep breath, he concluded: "I can't go on. Not right now."

"Fair enough. I'll get you to the car, and then I'll see if they're still around."

"There's no need, I can see the car from here."

But Bartimaeus was already tugging on his hand. Nathaniel allowed himself to be guided, fighting every thought concerning their hands. Because Bartimaeus was just…

He was just what, exactly? Nathaniel doubted Kitty had told Bartimaeus to do all this.

Fine, so Bartimaeus wasn't evil. That was fine. He could work with that. Fine.

Nathaniel let go of Bartimaeus's hand and got in the car, mind still in knots.

"Bartimaeus?" he called as he rolled down the window.

"Hm?"

"Just…" Nathaniel struggled mentally. He could feel Bartimaeus's eyes on him—curious, but a little impatient. His stupid heart would get him in trouble one day. "Be careful, alright? Adamastor isn't counting on you showing up. We don't know how they'll react. From what Kitty told us, Adamastor can be quite unpredictable."

Bartimaeus's eyes gleamed with mischief and something else Nathaniel couldn't quite place but still made his insides feel funny. "Ooh, I'm very much looking forward to that. On the off chance that I catch them still here, I'd very much like to see Kitty's face when she realises you told me where she'd be."

Ah, there it was—the urge to push Bartimaeus into a bush. Nathaniel did indeed feel better. He rolled the window back up after giving Bartimaeus an unimpressed look. The djinni's laughter echoed in the car as he took off flying in the guise of a crow, soon disappearing amidst the darkness.

Nathaniel flexed his hand, trying to stop the residual tingling and failing.

Kitty

A car pulled up outside Nathaniel's mansion.

Kitty looked up from her spot on the stairs, cheeks squished between her palms. It was about bloody time they deigned to show up.

The Almighty Duo of Headaches stepped out of the vehicle before it took off again. Nathaniel looked exhausted, but Bartimaeus seemed a bit… lighter than when she'd last seen him. Her eyes hopped between the two, trying to piece the story together just from their body language.

"Did you forget your key again?" Bartimaeus asked cheerfully, coming to a halt in front of her with a flourish. He was disguised as an elegant man in his thirties who seemed to have been born in a suit. It was becoming a bit of a habit of his to not only avoid beastly guises but to also capitalise on attractiveness.

Kitty raised an eyebrow at him. "No. I was waiting for you. Where were you?"

"Oh, off to a midnight stroll. We all know this one needs the exercise and I the sanity."

A midnight stroll her arse. Kitty's narrowed eyes moved to Nathaniel, who had a distant look in his eyes that she didn't like. She returned her attention to Bartimaeus. "It's eight."

Bartimaeus scoffed. "Don't be so literal. Now, let's go inside. It's about to rain again and that just isn't good for my essence."

"Hold on," Kitty called before Bartimaeus could enter. "I brought a guest."

Bartimaeus leaned back to stare at her. Even Nathaniel seemed to have snapped out of his stupor. "A guest?" Bartimaeus asked, coming back down the steps.

"Hm. We can talk about respecting boundaries some other time." She shot each of them an annoyed glare, lingering on Bartimaeus when he dared mutter something about going to all that trouble to find her. "I got Adamastor to the library. Don't worry, Shubit's keeping an eye on them. Adamastor insisted on speaking with John about the pentacle, and after the information they gave us, I couldn't exactly refuse."

"You invited a hybrid into the house?" Bartimaeus asked, aghast.

"You managed to get a hybrid past the sentries?" Nathaniel asked, equally aghast.

"The amulet can be very persuasive, you know?"

Nathaniel and Bartimaeus shared a look. Then Nathaniel took a very deep breath and nodded stiffly. "Well, I trust that you know what you're doing. Besides, Shubit's with Adamastor."

"Oh, sure, Shubit's with Adamastor. I suppose now I can rest easy, eh? No one will blow up anything."

Nathaniel blinked lazily up at Bartimaeus, face blank and lips curved slightly down. Kitty gladly allowed Nathaniel to take this one. "Bartimaeus, you blow up stuff all the time, so I'm not sure you want to go down that particular path."

Bartimaeus grumbled some more, but Kitty could tell his little outburst had been diffused, at least for now.

"Right," she said, slapping her hands on her jeans and getting up. "Now that you got that out of your systems, Adamastor actually has some interesting information to share, so shall we?"

Kitty stayed back as Nathaniel, Bartimaeus and Adamastor engaged in a staring contest, wishing she'd brought popcorn with her. She spared a glance Shubit's way. He acknowledged them with a nod, wrinkled his nose at Adamastor, and resumed his reading, placing a book on top of a pile on his left and opening another from a pile on his right.

Bartimaeus was the first to snap out of it. He moved forward with narrowed eyes, looking Adamastor up and down. If left to his own devices, Kitty bet Bartimaeus would produce a stick and poke one of Adamastor's scaly limbs with it.

Speaking of the hybrid, Adamastor was standing tensely in the middle of Nathaniel's library, looking every bit the cornered animal. The desk and the coffee table had been slightly pushed aside by Adamastor's tail. Kitty could tell for two reasons. One, Nathaniel would never allow for things to be out of place; she suspected he even had measuring tape in one of the drawers for that specific purpose. And two, Adamastor was holding their tail, presumably to keep from causing more damage.

"You're not an afrit, are you?" Bartimaeus asked. "I can't see your true form under all of this—" he gestured broadly at Adamastor— "Earthen manipulation, but you don't feel like an afrit. They're too insufferable." Shubit coughed from the table and was promptly ignored. "So what is it, then? Elemental? Maybe semi-marid?"

Adamastor shrank further under their curious gazes. "Elemental…"

Bartimaeus nodded sagely. "My thoughts exactly. Water, then? No, is it earth?"

"Air, actually."

Kitty stifled a laugh behind a fist. Nathaniel's lips twitched and he relaxed a smidge. She could tell this information interested him, however, as it did her. Kitty hadn't read much about elementals during her studying, but she remembered learning that they were quite powerful. Still, it had puzzled her to learn that afrits weren't considered elementals even though they were fire spirits.

Well, maybe she could bother Mr Button at another visit.

"Of course. I'm definitely picking up air magic energy."

"Right," she said, deciding to intervene before the situation got to critical levels of awkwardness. "Adamastor is here because they're being tailed by the police, and even some hybrids. Three guesses who's leading the charge."

Bartimaeus's expression sobered in the blink of an eye. "Asmodeus," he growled.

Nathaniel paled. "And where is he now?"

"Don't know," Adamastor whispered, jumping a little as all eyes returned to them. The tail flicked in Adamastor's paws. "I can't tell you much about Asmodeus. He's been looking for me, but I've managed to escape him. Running, I'm always running these days. Running from the police, from the mean hybrids, from the mean wolf... I just want to go home. Please."

That finally snapped Nathaniel to attention. "We will help you any way we can, Adamastor. Just tell us what you know about the Commoners' Alliance and Asmodeus and we'll find a way to set you free. You have my word," Nathaniel said with such fierce determination even Kitty believed him, and proceeded to shove his hands into his pockets. Kitty frowned. That was new.

"Th-Thank you," Adamastor mumbled to the carpet. "It's an honour to meet you, Mr Mandrake."

Bartimaeus let out an aggravated sigh.

"And you too, Mr Bartimaeus."

"Mr Bartimaeus?" he echoed, and Kitty could see his chest inflate to dangerous proportions. Kitty scanned the room for a needle. "What a civilized fellow." Bartimaeus clapped his hands together, looking at Nathaniel and Kitty meaningfully. "What are we waiting for? Let's get to helping this gentle soul, shall we?"

Kitty rolled her eyes at him as Adamastor tentatively smiled.

"Humans," Bartimaeus whispered to Adamastor, proceeding to plop down on the carpet and motioning for Adamastor to do the same.

Kitty and Nathaniel shared a look and followed Bartimaeus's lead. She supposed Bartimaeus had actually thought it through this time around, concluding that the sofa was too small for the four of them and that Adamastor's tail would just get in the way.

Throughout the next half hour, Adamastor gave them some names of the Commoners' Alliance members, as well as the places they held meetings. Kitty had already heard all of that, so she got a few pieces of paper from Shubit and wrote it all down. They would need to pinpoint the exact locations later and possibly find some sort of pattern after Adamastor was done. So far, she was happy to mark every name she recognised from her days working at the Frog Inn. Her mind kept circling back to George Fox. It was odd that someone who hadn't wanted to get involved in the first place was now making rousing speeches in secret caves.

Then again, it was odd to think that a previous member of the original Resistance was now trying to track down the members of the current Resistance. And when she did… what would she do? Could she really turn them in? Did they deserve to be turned in?

The Commoners' Alliance had to be responsible for at least some of the looting, otherwise she didn't know how they would've gathered resources. Which meant that maybe they'd been the ones who'd tried to attack her when she'd summoned Bartimaeus. After all, that house used to be big. Surely there were some valuables.

Which meant, in turn, that they could get violent.

Still, should she go looking for them? And when she found them, should she turn them him? She didn't know what sorts of punishments would await them now that Rebecca was the Prime Minister and the council was being reformed. Regardless, Kitty wasn't any better—she'd stolen and terrorised people too, and now she was being offered a seat in the council and being called a hero. How could she stand on any moral high ground and point a finger at people who were doing the exact same thing she'd done?

Bartimaeus elbowed her and said, "Give me that. You've missed three names and an address while you were daydreaming."

Kitty handed Bartimaeus the papers and the pen without complaint, noticing how Nathaniel was now showing Adamastor a set of drawings he'd pulled from his pocket. Nathaniel and Adamastor kept a safe distance between themselves; Nathaniel went so far as to use a pencil to point out certain details on the papers. His hand was trembling slightly.

None of that was surprising. Adamastor was fidgety and shy by nature, and Nathaniel… Well, Nathaniel had experienced one too many traumatic encounters with hybrids. The fact that he even could sit in the same room as one was impressive.

What was surprising, however, were the looks Bartimaeus kept shooting Nathaniel. And how close they were sitting. So Nathaniel had apologised, and Bartimaeus had forgiven him, like Kitty knew he would. Finally. She whooped internally, resisting the urge to put her arms over each of their shoulders and squeeze them into the most uncomfortable hug possible.

Adamastor cleared their throat, pausing Nathaniel's explanation and getting everyone's attention again. The hybrid shifted uncomfortably, grabbing their tail again and massaging it almost subconsciously.

"Thank you for showing me the pentacle, Mr Mandrake. It looks…" Adamastor's eyes shone with hope for the first time since Kitty had met them. "It looks like a promise. I am very grateful to you for working on this so thoroughly."

Kitty scratched at her brow, avoiding Bartimaeus's heavy gaze. "A promise is a promise," she said. Bartimaeus snorted.

Adamastor seemed completely impervious to the silent exchange. "I wanted to see that you had something for me before I told you something else."

"Go on," Kitty encouraged them, albeit a bit hesitatingly. If Adamastor had saved this for last, well… She grabbed the papers and the pen from Bartimaeus, just in case.

Adamastor nodded, shooting an apologetic glance at the paper and confusing Kitty.

"I think I heard some members of the Commoners' Alliance mention Edward Norwood, but I'm not sure. I-I know he's your boss, and that he works for the government, but… It seemed like he was part of the Alliance… But I could be mistaken, so it's probably best not to rely too much on this information."

It was too late for that. Kitty had grown rigid, blinking rapidly and frowning. "That's why he reacted—That bastard," she growled, rushing to her feet and starting to pace.

She couldn't believe Norwood had managed to keep that from her, even though she was working for him. Now she could understand why he'd reacted so weirdly when his daughter, Melanie, had brought up being approached by George Fox. Which meant that Norwood would find out about her visit to Rotten Bones with Bartimaeus and she would be out of a job again.

Bloody fantastic. Like it wasn't hard enough to get a job in London.

God, how had she not suspected him? No one was that clean. True, she'd had a lot on her mind recently and part of her lack of attention could be attributed to her being kidnapped and hit on the back of the head, but still… Was she getting sloppy now that her body had aged? Had she been lulled into a false sense of security after everything that had happened with the hybrids and Nathaniel?

Kitty was vaguely aware of everyone else staring at her.

"I, um… Maybe I should go?" Adamastor mumbled.

"What? Of course not!" Kitty exclaimed, feeling her brain splitting between the two problems at hand. "You're being followed by police and hybrids alike. You can't keep running. We'll keep you safe here. Right, Na—John?"

Shit, she'd almost slipped. Nathaniel's eyes were huge and his neck tense, but he exhaled and got into business mode in a flash. "Right. Of course. You're staying. We'll manage to get the pentacle done much faster with your help too."

"We have to call Piper," Kitty whispered to herself. Her mind had already moved on to the next task. "I'll go get the crystal ball. You two find Adamastor a place to stay, won't you? Thanks."

Kitty didn't stay long enough to hear Bartimaeus's protests or see Adamastor's reaction.

Bartimaeus

London's endless disposition to rain on its inhabitants eased once more around midnight. Sitting perched atop the weather-beaten roof tiles of John Mandrake's house, a drowsy sand cat watched the stars blinking in and out of sight from behind spent grey clouds. After the day's many excitements, stillness was irresistible, and the last thing the cat wanted was to think back on the boring conversation that had ensued via crystal ball.

Look, nothing of note had happened. Kitty and Nathaniel had thought it wise to update Piper on the status of all things, like Kitty's failure to blend in with the Rotten Bones' crowd, Shubit's inability to so much as lift an alleged ancient Seal, Mr Button's usefulness having apparently been reduced to—of all things—a book on coats of arms, and—to top it all off—Nathaniel and Kitty's half-cooked plan to house a hybrid. (1) There were some bitter words exchanged about Nathaniel having kept the pentacle a secret from Piper, and then Piper had to go deal with some press—because apparently that is the only way to make sure diplomacy is being served—and yada, yada, yada. Boring.

(1) Needless to say that Adamastor fled as soon as Kitty left the room. Not even Nat's diplomacy could hold him, which is an attitude worthy of respect if you ask me.

Now, returning to the important matter (2), the sand cat was pondering on how to give Asmodeus the most epic wedgie of a lifetime before shattering the little devil to smithereens. The strategy needed to be flawless to account for maximum length and shame, so naturally I couldn't leave it to chance, even though I did love a good improvisation.

(2) I.e. me.

Unlike certain insufferable magicians, who turned into bumbling messes if someone so much as suggested leaving some wiggle room for improv. Nathaniel had vetoed my every suggestion that evening, either labelling it as too risky or not being relevant to the plan. And I thought we'd bonded during his episode in Hyde Park, but no, good old Nat always had the energy and the wits for planning and putting things in neat little boxes.

First, he and Piper had agreed that approaching Norwood now was too risky and that Kitty should pretend she didn't know about his involvement. According to Nathaniel, neither had anything to gain from exposing the other or a plausible reason for knowing about the other while they kept their respective relationships with the Commoners' Alliance a secret. In other words, if Kitty didn't know about Norwood, Norwood couldn't know about Kitty. So she'd keep working at the bakery like nothing had happened.

In case you were wondering, I didn't have a problem with this train of thought. I wasn't a fan of keeping Kitty at the bakery, but it did offer a privileged opportunity for spying on the enemy. No, it was just the fact that then Piper decided that a spirit should be put in charge of tailing Norwood until further notice and Nat had protested exactly zero. So much for his new ideals, eh?

The second offense came when it was implied that I was going to help with the pentacle. By implied, I mean that Kitty went on a tangent, saying that, "We need to get organised and start working as a unit," and et cetera. You know how these go. We, she said. The nerve.

Of course, Nathaniel jumped at the opportunity to swing things in his favour, and his exact words were: "The pentacle is a priority right now, not only to get Adamastor home, but also to get rid of the hybrids, once and for all. The mystery of what's under the bridge will have to wait. Plus, we have Mr Button looking into it already." (3)

(3) I am just as astounded that I am able to remember this hogwash verbatim. Sometimes my abilities are more curse than blessing.

After that, Nathaniel gave everyone a set of tasks. He actually made lists. I burned mine the moment it touched my hand, of course, but he still told me what he needed me to do. Yes, he did say please, but that was hardly the point. He was lucky the only thing I did was recite that poem about his eyes. I got a nice catalogue of reds out of it too.

So, like I said, all very passable. It was one of those meetings where napping through it was not only acceptable but also encouraged. And if I had, I might have been less annoyed.

The whisper of wings in the night alerted me to another presence. A pigeon circled the roof a few times, lazily descending until it alighted beside me. I blinked and a black cat blinked back.

"Ah, Shubit. I would ask to what I owe the displeasure, but I'm not particularly in the mood for a chat, so shoo." I waved a paw dismissively. "Off you go. There are plenty of tiles to choose from."

Shubit considered me. "I've been wondering about this for a while, but… Are you one of those prejudiced djinn?"

I rolled my eyes at him and replied dryly, "Is it prejudice if it's fact?"

"There is hardly a need to feel insecure because master summoned a superior being to help," Shubit said blandly. "You know how powerful magicians get. It was only a matter of time."

I tilted my head at Shubit and asked as calmly as possible: "Excuse me?"

"Master summoned me because he needed help with the pentacle and getting the hybrids to the Other Place," Shubit explained patiently, like I was a human child in need of parental guidance. "I'm saying that you shouldn't take it personally. These things happen all the time."

I narrowed my eyes at him. The audacity of this nincompoop.

"He did summon you, yes. Because I refused to help. So, in truth—" I grinned at Shubit's confused face— "you are just a second option. Or third. Or fourth. But who's counting?"

Shubit shifted on the tiles, curling a long tail around his leg. Then, he turned his muzzle back to me with what I assumed to be a very serious expression. (4) "That's interesting. So he offered you the same conditions as me and you just told him that you didn't want to do it? And he let you? So he wasn't lying about that?"

(4) See, this is the problem with taking on cat guises. How can you emote like a cat when no one has the foggiest idea what these creatures are thinking?

"So many questions," I drawled. "Don't know if he's lying. Probably not. Mandrake's annoying like that. Also, he's not my master."

"He isn't?"

"No. Someone else summoned me to help."

"Oh, so that is why you're sitting over his personal chambers. You were charged with protecting him. Apologies. I didn't mean to sound rude earlier," he said cordially. "Now I get it. You're jealous of the deal he offered me. That's perfectly understand—"

I looked to the heavens above for inspiration. "No. I have a better deal than you, if you must know. My master lets me do as I please."

"Oh, that is quite—Good. Good for you."

I grinned toothily. Those words must have tasted like acid.

"So why are you guarding him?"

My mind screeched to a halt. "What are you—I just came out for some air."

"But I always see you here at this hour, so I thought—"

"It's just a nice spot. Relaxes me. Helps me think. Is the interrogation over now?"

There was a glimmer of recognition in Shubit's large, yellow eyes. "I see."

I didn't know what he saw, nor did I want to find out. And I didn't have to, because next I heard a loud crash coming from below us. Exchanging a quick look with Shubit, we both changed into crows and flew down to Nathaniel's window.

Inside, Nathaniel was collecting pieces of glass from the floor and still in one piece himself. Tension left my fake body.

I found Shubit staring at me.

"What? Is my guise slipping somewhere?" I checked the higher planes, but everything looked as fine as ever. I wasn't even aching, given the recent change.

Shubit shook his head, focusing his attention on Nathaniel. "You like this human."

My impression of Nathaniel sputtering was spot-on, if I say so myself. Finally I settled on the tried and true, "Sod off, Shubit."

"I usually don't buy into gossip, so I assumed that, like me, you'd helped him because you disagreed with the hybrids' actions. But the way you've been behaving and now this…" Shubit shook his head. "How? Why? I mean—"

"Sod off," I hissed. "And don't go around interpreting things however you please. Don't you have research to get back to?"

Shubit gave me one long appraising look which I met with equal tenacity. Then he shook his head and flew off, leaving me alone perched on Nathaniel's window.

Inside, the unknowing culprit had finished gathering the glass pieces onto a piece of paper, like the dimwit he was. The floor was carpet. He would need to vacuum the thing to get rid of the tiny fragments.

And what would you know—next the idiot cursed and got up, shaking his finger. The grimace melted into confusion when he turned around and found me staring. For a moment, neither of us moved. Then Nathaniel crossed the room and opened the window. I fluttered in with the cold midnight wind.

"Very stupid of you, this," I admonished, changing into a tanned blonde for the novelty value. I'd been in human guises so often lately, and mostly dark-haired, that it felt nice to go for something a little bit different. (5)

(5) I never thought I'd categorise anything 'human' as different. The horror.

"You like being a crow," Nathaniel said like we'd been talking about the weather.

Before I could reply, he walked around me to go into his bathroom. I closed the window while he rummaged in the other room, trying to reconcile the fact that Nathaniel had paid enough attention to know I didn't mind being a crow. I was still on the verge of a metaphorical aneurysm when he came back with toilet paper wrapped around his index.

"Like I was saying, a crow is one of your frequent guises, especially when you need to fly and remain inconspicuous. Besides, none of my Nexuses went off. And you're—" He stole a glance my way before quickly looking away. Nathaniel cleared his throat. "You're in a human guise."

"Oh." What? What was I supposed to say to that?

"So, what are you doing here?" he asked the glass shards, having learned not to touch them this time around. His nose was crinkled in disdain like the glass represented a real failure in his house owner sheet. It was also an attempt at nonchalance, even though I could see the sweat lining his forehead and gluing his pyjamas to his back in spots, the way his hands were shaking.

Nathaniel reeked of nightmare.

"I heard a noise."

A pause.

"I was tidying up. Didn't mean to alarm you."

"Shubit was the alarmed one. He was about to jump through the window and karate some furniture into oblivion."

That got me a little chuckle. "Where's—"

"So, you were cleaning at midnight?"

Nathaniel narrowed his eyes at me for a second longer before slowly nodding. "I couldn't sleep. It soothes me. And while I'm organising I can check the room for—" He cut himself off. "Never mind. I need to clean this before I—"

"Nat." I grabbed his wrist before he could move and he sighed in defeat. I knew bloody well what he'd been checking for. "First, how about we stop that bleeding properly before you really ruin the carpet, hm? We can worry about cleaning at ungodly hours afterwards, alright? Especially if we're going to end up waking up the entire house while doing so."

That coaxed a reluctant nod out of him. It was something at least. A few months ago this whole interaction wouldn't even be happening. In fact, I was having trouble believing it was happening right now.

The first aid kit was on the first floor of the house and I didn't feel like doing the trip for a simple cut, so I took some more toilet paper and wrapped it neatly around his finger, finishing it with an elaborate bow. Nathaniel examined it critically.

"What's the verdict on my handiwork?" I asked him. "Marvellous? Stupendous? I'll settle for fantastic."

"Dramatic," said the ungrateful git sitting in his reading nook. Because of course he'd have a reading nook in his bedroom, complete with integrated bookshelves and curtains for maximum privacy. All part of the haughty magician kit. "But I suppose it is sufficient. That was an awful lot of blood for such a tiny cut. So thank you."

"I—you're welcome." I cleared my throat, still unused to this new dynamic. "So, ready for bed? It's best not to risk waking up Kitty and incurring her wrath. I don't like your chances, Nat."

Nathaniel shook his head and half smiled at the thought, but when his attention returned to the bed, so did the grimace. "I think I'll stay up a bit longer and go through the book Mr Button lent us, but you go on ahead, Bartimaeus. Are you flying somewhere today?"

"I—" I hesitated, taken aback by his interest. I hadn't gone anywhere since Kitty had summoned me. I didn't have to tell Nathaniel that, and I wouldn't, because he'd find a way to distort it into something preposterous. But seeing him still so vulnerable and remembering the horror and panic in his face in Hyde Park made it hard to leave him alone.

"I have an idea," I declared, getting up and opening the window.

Nathaniel was instantly alarmed. "What are you doing?"

"We're getting some air!"

"It's freezing."

"So bring a blanket and keep your socks on."

"Bring a—what? I thought you meant—You opened the win—Where are we going?"

"The roof, obviously."

Nathaniel snorted, but his face quickly became alarmed. "You're serious?"

"I'm always serious."

Nathaniel gave me a bemused look, but he did get up—very slowly, very reluctantly—making sure he grabbed the blanket from underneath the pillows. We both had to duck to remain standing inside the nook.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?"

He opened his mouth—undoubtedly to protest—but before he could say anything, I put an arm around him and pulled him close. My essence stirred, pressing at the edges of my guise. Nathaniel gasped and tensed up like a brick, the newly discovered muscles in his back going taut under my hand.

He was making it hard not to take his disgust personally.

"Unless you want to climb by yourself."

Nathaniel shook his head and put his arms around me, lips thinned in a straight line. "Here we go again," he grumbled.

Rolling my eyes, I sprouted a pair of wings (6), held him tighter and off we went. It was a long, arduous journey. Nathaniel dug his nails into my back the entire time. If I found one stuck there afterwards, I would throw him off the roof.

(6) If you've got it, flaunt it. I don't make the rules.

After five gruelling seconds, we landed on the roof and Nathaniel immediately let go, nearly sliding off in the process. I yanked him back with an aggravated sigh. Humans.

"That's not how you learn how to fly."

"Thank you. I'm glad you told me."

"You're wel—Did you just sass me? I didn't think you had it in you."

"Dear life." Nathaniel groaned. "We can't stand like this all night. Your plan failed."

"O ye of little faith." I took the blanket from him and laid it down on the rooftiles. And then, motioning grandly with one arm: "Ta-da!"

Nathaniel scrutinised it for an agonising two seconds, making me all the more conscious of our proximity, before disentangling himself from me and plopping down on the tiles. "You know, the roof's still wet. The water's probably going to seep into my clothes in spite of the blanket."

I joined him on the blanket. "Yes, and aren't you glad you have this ridiculously big shower where you can fit your scrawny body and your huge head?"

"Is this your idea of cheering me up?"

"Who said anything about cheering you up? I'm cheering me up."

"Fine." Nathaniel huffed and spent the next few minutes staring up at the night sky in blissful silence.

I stole glances his way every now and then, finding the silence just as disturbing as his ability to whine about the most trivial things. Nathaniel wouldn't have just thanked me, naturally. My expectations in bringing him here were beyond me as well. I couldn't dismiss whatever was eating away at him with the power of nature and starlight. In fact, I hadn't realised I'd been trying.

You like this human.

I mentally flipped Shubit off. Not hating a human wasn't the same as liking one. Please. So what if I had read a few books on physical and mental health? Knowing your enemy was the best strategy. Trust an afrit to misinterpret everything.

"Found a kettle," Nathaniel said suddenly, pointing at an agglomerate of stars that looked nothing like a kettle.

"We need to get your eyesight checked. I don't see a kettle."

"Here." Nathaniel scooted over, grabbed my hand, and started to draw in the air with his index. "And that's the handle, see?"

"Uh-huh." I swallowed. "And that's you pouring it." It was my turn to take his hand and do some invisible drawing.

Nathaniel was frowning when I finished. "Why is my head so big?" he asked drily.

"Nathaniel," I said, shaking my head in deep regret, "I don't have the answers to the bigger philosophical questions. You should know that by now."

He glared at me. "Is that so? Then…" He found my hand again, this time leaning further into my personal space as he began drawing from my side.

"Excuse you, I don't have that many tentacles. And my horns are much more refined. Also, what are those protrusions supposed to be?"

"Your crooked teeth," he stated, voice strained. When I turned to check on him, the bastard was fighting to keep himself from laughing. His body shook slightly against mine. This absolute git.

I sucked in a breath. "I have beautiful teeth. Pearly, I tell you. You would be jealous."

"I don't know, Bartimaeus. I have impeccable oral hygiene," Nathaniel retorted, attempting to sound serious and failing spectacularly.

"My teeth are as white as these wings."

Nathaniel turned a little to consider the wing that was currently around him. Smiling softly to himself, he ran his fingers along the bones and down the feathers. My essence trembled in my stomach, but I didn't dare pull the wing away.

"Bartimaeus?"

"Hm?"

"Your teeth must be pretty shoddy if they're like your wings. The tips are all muddy."

I indignantly slapped him over the head with my gorgeous wing, thank you very much. "And whose fault is that?"

Nathaniel was properly laughing now, unfazed by my attitude and the fact that I could send him flying to his demise if I so pleased. Despite myself, I snorted and chuckled along with him. Our mirth ebbed away naturally a few moments later, replaced by a comfortable silence I hadn't known possible in his presence.

Then again, Nathaniel no longer had his nightmare attached to him like a second skin, so maybe nature and starlight were what he'd needed all along.

Hi, it's little old me again, here to thank anjumstar as always. She's brilliant and the reason why the beginnings of the scenes don't suck (as much (keeping my bases covered, you know?)). Nothing but standing O's for my boo.