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Chapter Twenty-Seven

another domino falls

Kitty

"It's him."

The whispered words reverberated in the barren room, starkly loud, tearing at the dense silence.

"Are you certain?"

"Positive."

A pen swiftly scratched against paper.

"Piper, a word?"

From beside her, Piper straightened and followed Commander Adgate out of the room. The door clicked shut. Kitty's eyes never wavered from the one-way mirror, however. On the other side, her former boss sat rigidly on a metallic chair, wrists chained to the equally functional table in front of him. Puffy eyes darted pointlessly around the room, often straying towards the door; even from where she was standing, Kitty could tell that there was no way out of this. Unless you'd count the Tower, which the former government certainly always did.

"Regretting your life choices this early in the morning?" a deep voice drawled beside her.

Kitty glanced sideways at the purple-haired woman to her right, remembering how she'd been dragged out of bed before the sun had even deigned to show its face in order to identify the people who'd been at Rotten Bones. With a sigh, she replied, "Every day. Regretting leaving his side after your reunion?"

A toothy grin cut across the woman's face, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Not a babysitter, Kitty dearest. He's working on that little project of his. You know how he gets."

Did she ever. Nathaniel had already been up by the time Kitty, Piper, and Bartimaeus had left. "My point exactly. And if you're that worried, you can always have Piper check it over beforehand. Regardless," she continued before they got too derailed, "what do you make of this?"

"Hm, two dozen rebels caught two weeks before the soirée, decently armed to boot… On the flip side, I can already see the headlines praising your leaders for their swift action."

"Exactly. Smells fishy, doesn't it? But look at Fox."

"I try to avoid it, if possible. That nose…" Bartimaeus made a distressed sound.

Kitty rolled her eyes, glad for the privacy the one-way mirror provided them. No matter. She didn't need Bartimaeus to agree with her. George Fox remained very still on his seat, cool as a cucumber. The others who had been brought in were fidgety at best, and sweated buckets at worst, even though they were at the height of winter and multiple officers were wearing warm clothing. The CA members either kept their mouths' shut or insisted that the 'demons' had attacked first; many had burst into tears at the mention of the Tower.

But not Fox.

"We're missing something," she whispered.

Bartimaeus, naturally, picked it up. "What are you thinking?"

"It's like you said—they were caught just before the soirée, and right after you and John bumped into Fox. The timing's just…"

"Serendipitous?" Bartimaeus quirked a violently violet eyebrow. "They could be honing their plans, if they thought we were onto them."

"Maybe…"

Bartimaeus turned his head fully to stare at her. "You reckon it's a trap? They didn't have that many people in the basement of that filthy and aptly named bar. Throwing twenty away seems like too big a bargain, especially considering the reinforced measures Piper is adding to Devereaux's estate. You'd need either powerful artefacts or a higher being to slip through the Nexuses, Shields, and whatever else Piper and Ffoukes have been cooking up."

Kitty mulled over his words, trying to make sense of it all. Numbers did matter in a scenario like this, but so did the element of surprise. If the Commoners' Alliance was planning something they wanted to keep hidden, they'd need a proper smokescreen to throw the authorities off their scent. Fox had been lying low after she and Bartimaeus had found him in Rotten Bones, and his recent encounter with Nathaniel and Bartimaeus could have spooked him. But how did that lead to sacrificing two dozen members? That didn't sound right either. The Resistance had never willingly made that play.

…But they had been played.

"Did any of them try to run?" Kitty asked suddenly.

Bartimaeus considered this. "Fox did. But none of the others, as far as I am aware. Amare and Ezekiel—"

"Piper dismissed them earlier today. I heard them talking. She wanted them at full strength for the soirée."

"Bare minimum, but that's something, I suppose. We could still call them to ask, but I doubt they'd have a different answer."

Kitty didn't comment. Part of her wanted to defend Piper's character out of habit, but another, louder part wanted her to say something unkind—maybe even mean. She pushed it all down.

"I've seen this before," she muttered. "When Makepeace—well, I suppose it was Faquarl who was really behind all this, wasn't he?" A glance at Bartimaeus told her he didn't want to touch the subject, so she dropped it. "Fox knows something the others don't. Maybe they did really think it was an ambush—did you say that Amare was being held when you got there? That's strange if they wanted to claim you lot attacked first."

"Not really. Amare was alone, so Ezekiel and I couldn't comment on how it got to that point. It'd be a demon's word against multiple humans', wouldn't it? And Fox could've easily told them that they should wait and see if more showed."

"True, but that still puts Fox in a higher position than the others, doesn't it? But not at the very top."

"You're saying he was given a mission," Bartimaeus stated. "Which was to distract us?"

"Or make us nervous. Or both. Think about it—stealth wasn't their priority at all, otherwise they would've sent a much smaller party to feed us false information or something of the sort. But they're giving us nothing."

"So you think this is a show of force? In other words, they can spare this many people that it won't affect their plans at all? Or is this 'a bit of column A, a bit of column B' kind of situation?"

"Well, the Resistance certainly was expendable for Makepeace, wasn't it? A means to an end." Kitty hugged herself as the all-too-familiar chill ran up her spine like a frigid skeleton finger deliberately tracing each knob.

Bartimaeus's uncharacteristically warm hand closed around her elbow. "He gets a similar expression," he explained with a shrug.

Kitty smiled gratefully at him, giving his hand a gentle tap and getting her mind in order. "Regardless of what we think, we won't get anywhere with him refusing to speak."

Bartimaeus returned his gaze to the mirror. On the other side, Fox was sitting back on his chair, pointedly ignoring Adgate's attempts at engaging him in conversation. Earlier, Kitty had been told all of the captured members of the Commoners' Alliance had denied legal representation. Which made sense when she thought about her own trial against Julius Tallow a lifetime ago. And this, in turn, made her question their actions even further—if they knew that the justice system would never work in their favour anyway, why risk getting caught at all?

As if he'd heard her thoughts, Fox's eyes turned towards hers. Kitty startled. He wouldn't be able to see her at all, she knew. But he must have guessed someone was watching, and maybe even that it was her.

Fox smirked.

Bartimaeus

When I found him, he was several shades whiter than usual.

"Love what you did with the hair," I commented, watching his startled blues eyes until they registered my meaning. Nathaniel averted them bashfully, and I had to wonder if he was also thinking about the last time we'd been here in his library, when I'd held him and touched his hair. Or the time I'd found him after he'd summoned Shubit, nearly as sweaty as he was now.

"Sorry, thought you were Shubit," he had the audacity to say, voice rough from use, nonetheless wiping his hands on a cloth and then attempting to ruffle the chalk dust off his hair. He only succeeded in tousling it; the chalk stuck stubbornly to the tips. "I've been trying different combinations all day…"

I could see that. Nathaniel's library was extensive, and while most of it was occupied by shelves upon shelves of tomes, another large and carpet-less section was covered in pentacles. I had often been summoned into one of these, but now Nathaniel was modifying each of them into different versions of his new creation. Naturally, this meant that there were multiple books and herbs strewn around the floor. And in the middle of it all was Nathaniel, sitting on his heels, sweating as if we'd just been sparring, and overall looking like a powdered pastry.

"How did it go at the station?"

"Well, Kitty has a theory…" Which I detailed perfectly, with the required flair and small touches that make storytelling spellbinding.

Nathaniel rubbed at his eyes, nodding along to my masterful retelling. "All the more reason to stop focusing on these useless pentacles," he mumbled, nonetheless making no move to get away from them.

I approached cautiously, both to avoid stepping onto the clean lines and getting too close. Apparently, I couldn't trust my essence around this glorified ghost. Just yesterday I'd succumbed to his human vulnerability. But I knew better now; I was prepared for his wiles. Nathaniel peered up at me and smiled tiredly before returning to his notes. I scratched at the odd sensation fluttering around in my belly.

"Where's Shubit then?"

"I asked him to go and get some more incense, but he's taking a while. Pass the rosemary."

Scrunching up my nose, I floated the bowl over and nudged Nathaniel's knee with it. He shook his head with another exhausted grin as he placed a few dried twigs onto a small plate. The lines under his eyes were strained, however. He roughly wiped his shiny forehead with an equally clammy forearm.

"I hope this works," he murmured to the rosemary, willing it to cooperate. Poor Nat, so far gone that he thought talking to dead plants was going to save him. Such is the way of great human minds, I'm told.

"Well, can't say that the smell has improved since you decided to empty the contents of your stomach yesterday," I said, making him wince. "So you've clearly been at it for ages, haven't you? And speaking of bodily fluids—you're sweating up a storm. I can't believe I'm saying this, but please go take a shower."

Nathaniel's nose scrunched up in indignation, frustration simmering right under his skin. "Well, I spent just a couple months researching the pentacle, and a few hours attempting to summon Tchue, actually, so I'm sorry if my work's not up to standard—"

"Could you imagine how embarrassing it'd be, not having anything to show after all that hard work? Now that's nightmare fuel."

Nathaniel narrowed his eyes at me, mouth open and ready to clap back. And then, to my great astonishment, he smiled and shook his head. "I know what you're doing."

"You… do?"

"You're trying to distract me by getting me to bicker with you. I appreciate it, but I really should focus."

I blinked down at him, fighting the urge to shove a thermometer under his armpit. (1) "…Right."

(1) The world had truly gone to the dogs. Since when was Nathaniel of all people able to read me so clearly? Next Piper was going to show up with a carry-on and a one-way ticket to the Philippines, or Kitty would learn not to enter the house wearing filthy shoes. Madness.

I doubt he heard me, however. He was still going, the way he did when the walls were closing in and he kept digging the hole that made him prisoner. "I can't tell if the pentacle's not working or if Tchue's just… gone. Maybe I'm doing this wrong. Maybe the names of the magician hosts don't matter anymore. Initially I just used them to jog my memory, and they're not their birth names anyway. Besides, you saw Asmodeus and Adamastor—they'd completely shed the magicians. But what does all this even matter when the CA is toying with us and I have an elemental to free in five months! I shouldn't be bothering with this, or waste time going to therapy. I couldn't do it fast enough to save Adamastor anyway, so—"

Nathaniel stopped mid-pant. I opened my mouth, but decided to give him a moment instead. He took in several deep breaths, massaging his sternum as he slowly paced around the carpeted area of the library.

Yes, would you look at him. Nathaniel had come so far after just a few weeks of therapy through his own hard work, despite his words on the matter. He was getting better at predicting my moves during our training sessions too. (2) As I watched him now, deeply focused and determined to make things right, to truly make some changes, it wasn't that hard to understand why I'd found myself in this predicament. And knowing that he would keep getting better and challenging the world without me made my decision to leave both easier and harder. I would later hear the tales of all his accomplishments, I was sure—seen through other eyes, greatly embellished but always falling short in portraying all that he was. I would feel the ripples of his actions for centuries to come. And of my decisions.

(2) Legend had it that he'd thrown Shubit on his back the other day—just like I'd taught him, mind you—and I would have gladly given up the seventh plane to watch that. Alas, I would have to settle for Kitty's lacklustre retelling.

Perhaps the pentacle didn't matter in the grand scheme of things. After all, it was still a means of enslaving spirits, regardless of Nathaniel's intentions to use it solely for releasing hybrids from their earthen shackles. But this was a mission I'd started with him, and I was nothing if not diligent. Besides, a long time ago I'd made a promise to someone else, a promise that I'd try to see the world—the relationship between spirits and humans—the way he did.

I knew the risks. But I'd made a promise.

"Wouldn't it be better to try it out with a known hybrid first?" I heard myself asking.

"Well, yes, but we're a bit short on those," he replied immediately, not even looking up from scribbling on his notebook. "Asmodeus made sure of that." He lifted it up, comparing the design to the pentacle in front of him.

"I could do it."

"In your sleep, I'm sure," Nathaniel said, a lilt of weary laughter to his voice.

"Naturally, but I mean it. I want to do it."

That gave him pause. "You want—Why?" To say he was flabbergasted would be an understatement. He wasn't alone, of course. And, as usual, he was asking the difficult questions.

I considered him, exhausted yet resolute in his pursuit of a solution—very in character for him, of course. While I'd often found Mandrake in a similar state while searching for answers, this was Nathaniel's good-hearted version of relentlessness. And, albeit begrudgingly, he moved me.

"I promised Ptolemy I would help spread news of his pentacle."

His name felt foreign on my tongue. For so long I had sheltered and locked it away within. And now that I'd freed it, keeping the Other Place from slipping through the cracks was proving quite the hurdle. But I too had become better at tethering myself to the present. To this place.

"I was the only one left who knew about it. And I did try at first. But most people didn't care, least of all magicians. So I stopped, and it was easy, because talking about him transported me to that moment every single time. Kitty can tell you all about the shock she got the first time she summoned me. So, to put it simply, I want to balance it out."

Yes, I could have lied, but I found I didn't want to. Yet this was, of course, a half-truth. Or, rather, a half-answer. It simply wouldn't do to give him the other half, however. I still had some self-preservation instincts, thank you very much.

Which were quite hard to cling to with the look he was giving me right then, all earnest and vulnerable, making my insides tingle. If he didn't drop it now, I was going to throw the rest of my dignity into the rosemary bowl and kiss him within an inch of his life.

"You have balanced it out," Nathaniel said at last, suddenly snapping his notebook shut and getting up. He grabbed tomes as he went, then put them down on top of his desk. Just as abruptly, he whirled around, locking me in place with the anger in his eyes. No, it wasn't helping my situation in the slightest. "In fact, that was the whole point from the beginning. I dismissed you to keep you alive, and now you're trying to play the sacrifice card when you've called me out repeatedly for doing it?"

I'm djinni enough to admit I hadn't been expecting that sort of insightful comeback from him. Regardless, I couldn't let him get away with it.

"Who's playing the sacrifice card? Didn't you say you've been meticulously working on this? You want to do it for Adamastor—I get it, very principled of you—but it's not working and you don't know why. So, you need a test run."

"You are not a test run," Nathaniel snapped, shouldering past me to collect more books. Feeling oddly flattered, but also deeply annoyed, I followed him, not one to let him avoid looking at me during an argument.

"Naturally. I'm one of a kind, a work of art, et cetera. But what is the issue? It's not like I'm suggesting we join minds again. Perish the thought. I'm sure Kitty would love to take a turn, seeing how eager she was that we do it last time. So what's really eating at you?"

"We'd still be testing my pentacle. I would be the one to hurt you both! And I promised I'd never summon you again." He turned away from me once more, pretending to organize the books he'd just picked up. "This has never been done. And besides, you wouldn't be destroying Kitty's mind, so maybe the results aren't viable either way. We don't know what will happen. I may somehow prevent you from leaving her body—did you even consider that?"

"While the thought alone is beyond horrifying, you also promised to listen to me. Remember our pact? Or are you so blinded by your guilt that you can't see past it?"

He stilled. Finally. Nathaniel's blue eyes pierced me, searching. Which was just peachy, given the situation. While my discretion capabilities should never be brought into question, the answer to his silent Why? was blatantly obvious, especially with his newfound ability of seeing right through me.

"What about you?" he murmured, presumably tired of arguing. Here I was, offering him something he desperately needed, and Nathaniel had to argue, of course. Trust him to be contrarian just for the sake of it. "Can you see past yours?"

It was my turn to falter. Uncanny how right and yet how wrong he could be all at once.

"Enough to know this is right."

The left corner of Nathaniel's mouth quirked upward into a bittersweet smile. "You must have really loved him."

I held his gaze with mine for longer than was advisable. "I do."

All in all, it was reassuring to know that I could bend Kitty's will to mine just as easily all these years later, and that it wasn't solely dependent on golem attacks. A little bit of probing and guilt‑tripping went a long way. And so, grumbling and sighing, she joined us in Nathaniel's smelly library.

Funnily enough, the roles also switched. Nathaniel ought to have been hurrying us up, but instead he kept his silence. Kitty really should have been hesitating harder—after all, I was about to read her every embarrassing thought, (3) but she seemed rather amused. As for me, it was my brilliant plan, was it not? I wanted to see it brought to life as soon as possible, before I regretted ever making the decision and started dissecting the last words Nathaniel had said before I went to get Kitty.

(3) This idea cheered me immensely—I needed something else to tease her about these days. She had too much leverage over me. It was time to balance the scales.

Nathaniel had quickly and efficiently drawn the pentacle for Kitty to summon me, as well as erased part of the line to facilitate the process. This was the bit where he was meant to sit still, though he was doing anything but. Just short of creating channels on the carpet and floorboards, to be honest. Which was just so typical of a magician who'd never had to hoover this monstrosity of a carpet.

Kitty looked between the two of us and shook her head. Then she cleared her throat and said, "Bartimaeus, if you get trapped inside, I will purposefully get earworms every single day to spite you. So, whatever you do, answer on the first summons for once in your life."

"It's cute you think I wouldn't drive you insane first," I taunted back.

"You already do. Daily."

I ignored her. "Nat, everything ready?"

He nodded, not looking at me. Fantastic.

Kitty shot me an amused look, cleared her throat, and dismissed me. I didn't even get past the gate before I was summoned back.

The sensation was starkly different. Somehow I had expected a lot more similarities between the two of them, but while Nathaniel's mind was simultaneously neater and more chaotic in terms of his battling personas, Kitty's thrived on instinct and impulse, with an underlying assurance about her own self.

But that wasn't the oddest part. Oh no. Kitty's body felt uncomfortable, and I could tell that Essence of Bartimaeus wasn't welcome either. I couldn't rejoice in the lack of pain when Kitty's presence seemed to box it in, constrict it—repel it, even.

I take it from your confusion that it's not supposed to feel like this?

No. I feel like a canned sardine. No doubt the work of your resilience.

Huh, I wonder if that's why the sword—

"What's wrong?" Nathaniel asked, alarmed, and clearly having noticed Kitty's grimace.

"Oh, nothing much. It just feels incredibly weird and uncomfortable and I regret everything—Oh! Now I know what you meant!" Kitty said, more than a little wonder slipping into her tone.

That's what you choose to be impressed with, is it? You've been to the Other Place!

"You look very handsome, Nat. Some would even say radiant."

Wait, 'Nat'?

I'm just the messenger.

Nathaniel looked at us in confusion for a moment. "Oh, right. I didn't know that it'd be…"

I tried to open Kitty's mouth to speak, but was met with resistance. Confused, I then attempted to lift an arm to slap Kitty's face to no avail.

"Bartimaeus says that you recovered, but he seems to be experiencing technical difficulties. I thought he was supposed to be able to control me?"

Nathaniel frowned, leaving his pentacle to peer closely at Kitty's face. I vehemently wished he wouldn't come so near. Then again, it was Kitty he was getting closer to.

"Maybe your resilience is making things a bit more complicated."

"That's his theory as well."

"Just try to take a step towards me, Bartimaeus."

Kitty's feet simply wouldn't give. Nathaniel watched us expectantly, but no matter how many times I tried, Kitty's body wouldn't listen to me. Which I supposed was fair enough, since she'd never listened to anybody in her entire life.

"Still nothing?"

"Trust me, he's trying very, very hard."

I will eat your brain.

With whose teeth?

The worry lines on Nathaniel's forehead deepened. "I fear this may complicate things even further. If he can't move as he pleases, then how is he going to respond to an outside summons? Maybe it's best if you dismiss him."

Ridiculous. We're all already here, so why waste this opportunity? Besides, the hybrids will be more boxed-in given the time they've spent inside the other humans. They've started to meld together, haven't they?

Kitty relayed the message, which made Nathaniel frown even harder.

"This pentacle is at its preliminary stages. It's best to work from simple and then add on complications, not the other way around. Kitty, please dismiss him. We can try again later with me, if he likes."

Absolutely not.

I think he has a point, Bartimaeus.

So, naturally, I played a fanfare in her mind in protest while she recited the dismissal words. Kitty persevered, rolling her eyes at my antics. Eventually, she reached the last part and I resigned myself to my fate.

Only the sweet release from this confinement never came.

Next time I dismiss you, you better go. I have better things to do with my time than experience your embarrassing Nathaniel thoughts.

Rude and incorrect, as usual. Don't blame your lack of experience on me. You're the one who messed up the dismissal, and everybody and their mother is baffled by that.

I didn't—

The panic flared instantly. "He's still here," Kitty whispered to Nathaniel as if she were talking about an unwanted guest in her house.

"But your dismissal was—Go again."

Kitty tried again, this time without me providing the soundtrack. I reckoned her racing heart and my storming essence were sufficient.

I remained.

So she tried again.

And again.

And again until her voice became desperate and hoarse.

The implication settled over us like a frigid mist. Kitty and I had joked about getting stuck together, but neither of us had expected not to have a way out at this stage. After all, Nathaniel had dismissed me even while losing consciousness. But now, my good intentions had yet again brough me nothing but grief. I was already suffocating after a few minutes—I couldn't take years of being trapped inside this grandma body, or of watching these two fall for each other and whatever else that came with it.

And then, to my surprise, it was Nathaniel who broke through first. "Listen, resilience isn't imperviousness, alright?" Eyes stony with resolve, Nathaniel took both of Kitty's trembling hands in his, squeezing them and giving Kitty a tiny shake. For me, it became a flutter.

Kitty laughed tearfully. "The last time you freaked out in front of me, I slapped you."

Nathaniel laughed too, though I could see the panic behind his eyes. I was tempted to play them a tragic romantic soundtrack. "If it's all the same to you, I'd rather we avoid that this time around." He paused, sobering again. This close, I could make out every line exhaustion had pressed onto his face, the slumping of his shoulders, the red in his eyes. "Bartimaeus? I'm going to have to break my promise."

You better.

I had never been so eager to get inside a pentacle before. Every second was torture as Nathaniel re-examined the lines one last time. He removed the herbs and weakening runes, leaving only the necessary elements for the summoning of yours truly.

You know, Kitty started, if we get out of this one, we probably should have a conversation about Nathaniel. Including the fact that you apparently saved—

If we get out of this, Kitty, I will never tell a grandma joke again, and I'll prepare all your meals with extra calcium for your fragile bones.

Can it, sardine.

The candles lit and the final touches set in place, Nathaniel wandered over to his circle. He caught our eye, raised an eyebrow, the silent question obvious.

Kitty nodded our assent.

Nathaniel began the overruling summons in English, skipping all the intricacies of binding the spirit to this world and focusing only on the calling. I let out an excited sound in Kitty's mind as the fishhooks caught on my essence, giving me a good yank forward.

However, I hit a wall on the way out.

"Ow," Kitty protested.

You can say that again.

Nathaniel, now doubled over and wheezing from the effort, rasped, "I'm not done. I have another version, hold on."

This time, he used not only mine and Kitty's names, but also our location, strengthening the summons. I said this because this time the wall I hit was made of rubber, not steel. I could feel something give, but I couldn't pass through.

Oh.

Kitty, tell him to change the words for "passing through this vessel" instead of "leaving this vessel".

If this is how I die, I will be so mad.

I'll say. The carpet will be ruined forever. You can't really remove bits of brains, bone, and blood from a Persian rug, you know.

Lovely image, thank you.

Kitty conveyed the message.

Nathaniel merely nodded, recovering his breath. Each summons had sapped what little energy he had left. A fourth try wasn't on the table. I would be genuinely impressed if he managed the third in this state.

But tenacity he had in spades. So Nathaniel recited the summons a third time, switching the verb just like I'd asked him. The fishhooks had me in their grip before he was even done. They met no resistance. I fluttered out of Kitty as if she were a cloud, following Nathaniel's voice like a beacon and materialising in the circle opposite his.

He managed a chuckle before collapsing onto the floor. Behind me, Kitty did the same, falling onto the sofa instead. As for me, my mind and essence alike were still a raging tornado, so to the floor I sank too.

"Everyone alright?" Nathaniel asked, still winded.

"Just dandy," I managed. "But let's never do that again. Kitty?"

"Fine." She let out a groan, still sprawled on the sofa. "And seconded."

To my surprise, that elicited a laugh from Nathaniel. He rolled on the floor, unable to stop. Kitty followed, chuckling, grimacing, and clutching her stomach all at once. Finding all this ridiculous, I joined in. Soon our combined laughter was bouncing off the walls.

"Now, if you don't mind," I told them after a few more delirious minutes. "I'm going to throw my essence into the washing machine and forget this ever happened."