Chapter Ten

the world is spinning on our time

Nathaniel

In a white-tiled bathroom stood a naked young man with pasty skin and a prominent ribcage. His blue gaze pierced the mirror as he found fault in every millimetre of his visible self. There were the tiny, fading scars on his face, neck and hands, hollow cheeks and empty eyes, the angry red scar on his right shoulder he often traced with his fingertips just to feel the sharp, thin line between life and death.

The hand moved south towards the belly button, which was abnormally titled to the left, the skin surrounding it pulled up to converge on the ugly scar on his side. There were two fist-sized, reddish brown bumps, coarse like dunes, now covered in a fatty cream he had to apply twice a day. He inhaled deeply, his ribcage sticking out further and the skin stretching uncomfortably, pulling at the stitches on his side.

His gaze remained indifferent throughout all this, like it was watching a stranger instead. After what seemed like a long time, Nathaniel taped the dressing back on with a resigned sigh. He mindlessly padded around the bathroom, stuffing his pyjamas in the laundry hamper and getting dressed in what he now considered his exercise clothes—a faded black t-shirt and equally worn black trousers.

Thinking back on the previous week revealed it as a blurry sequence of events in his brain. First, the press was behaving like a dog with a bone, and it didn't seem like it'd calm down soon. Piper came to visit every day with all sorts of bizarre tales that greatly amused Kitty, who seemed to be expertly dodging the unwanted attention. They'd assured him that nothing too bad was being written, which Nathaniel couldn't confirm because he refused to read any article that mentioned the Glass Palace. But he figured it made sense; most newspapers were probably still afraid of going too far for fear that the government would try to silence them.

Second, Nathaniel found that being alive came with a lot of mail, most of it asking him for interviews, with the odd declaration of love thrown in the batch, and the good old amateur poisoned letter too. Nathaniel couldn't decide which was worse: the poisoned letters or the love letters. Bartimaeus enjoyed both equally and was having a lot of fun lighting those on fire while singing some deranged lyrics about a 'Disco Inferno'. Nathaniel didn't know what sort of spell a 'Disco Inferno' was, but he certainly didn't want to find out.

Nathaniel wasn't daft, though. He doubted the press would stay away from his house, but he also doubted they would try anything too risky. So far, Bartimaeus had spotted a few suspicious individuals walking by or idly sitting at a distance, apparently engaged in other things. Nathaniel was almost certain they'd been followed on Thursday, when he'd left for his check-up at the hospital. But since no one had jumped at them, he'd assumed it was just the press and therefore didn't care. Doubly so, since Dr Elgar had told him things were looking good.

If only he could feel it. His side still wasn't happy about all the stretching and 'light' weightlifting, much less the 'light' cardio. They could call it whatever they wanted, but 'light' it was not. Nathaniel was always panting and sweaty by the end, not to mention red in the face. If he heard Bartimaeus call him strawberry cheeks one more time, he'd take him to the grocer's and introduce him to other fruit and vegetables, broaden his world a bit. Nathaniel was beyond hoping Bartimaeus would just stop with the comments, so that was the next best thing.

He was also beyond hoping that Bartimaeus would stop with the morning ritual. Really, it had become sort of tradition over the past week to have Bartimaeus barge into his room in Ptolemy's form with breakfast in tow. The problem was that instead of wearing just the usual loincloth, Bartimaeus had chosen to don the fluffiest mittens and apron in the world. Nathaniel didn't know if this was another form of torture or if Bartimaeus was overcompensating for not using his usual grotesque guises. Which didn't make much sense on its own, but very little did where Bartimaeus was concerned. Regardless, it was getting hard not to laugh. Just the thought made the corners of his lips twitch.

And that wouldn't do. Nathaniel put his robe over his clothes—it was cold, and he wasn't going to exercise right now—and opened the door to his bedroom. But what he found was not what he'd expected. For starters, there were no signs of Bartimaeus—there was no breakfast tray, the curtains were still drawn, and his sanity was still intact. However, as he approached his unmade bed and obsessively checked that his sketchbook hadn't been moved a millimetre, he noticed there was a small note lying on the bed.

Nathaniel inwardly debated for a moment on whether he should pick it up—this could have only come from Bartimaeus, after all, and the chances of it being a prank were high. Curiosity got the best of him in the end.

Nothing jumped at him, and the paper didn't burst into flames. No, it was a note written on cheerfully designed paper with pink hearts galore. It read, "So we don't give you a heart attack today." There was the symbol for the heart instead of the word, because this note wasn't ridiculous enough already. He turned it around. "Kitty and Piper brought cake. Act surprised."

Nathaniel figured only the limited amount of space had made Bartimaeus get straight to the point. Such a bizarre note. Had Bartimaeus done this so he wouldn't jump out of his skin? After what had happened at the hospital… Could that also be why there was always music playing in the house and the startling kept to a minimum? Why Bartimaeus never chose to impersonate a gruesome mythological creature these days? If that were true, then Nathaniel felt even worse about being privy to Bartimaeus's memories of Ptolemy. And worse still for having him around.

But it couldn't be. Or that was what he'd say if they hadn't shared a mind. Bartimaeus had done a lot of things he didn't have to do, even before Nathaniel had woken up from his coma, and even before Kitty had bullied them into joining minds. But no, this was too much. Someone must have told him to. Perhaps Kitty or Piper, perhaps Dr Elgar or Sam. Still…

No. He was reading too much into it. He swallowed the errant feeling down as he folded the note in two and put it in his robe's pocket, deciding he'd dispose of it later. Now he needed to act surprised.

There were too many balloons.

That was the first thought that registered once the lights were on and confetti rained down, making a huge mess on the floor. The second was that he was glad he hadn't showered yet. Then came the singing. Nathaniel simply stood there uncomfortably as Kitty and Piper clapped and sang like he imagined two normal people would—somewhat softly and keeping to the melody—and then…

And then there was Bartimaeus. He was belting it out, harmonising, and doing all sorts of runs that would sound impressive to someone more musically inclined than Nathaniel. But that wasn't all—no, Bartimaeus was also pirouetting around the kitchen, kicking the balloons everywhere and miraculously not bursting a single one. Piper and Kitty kept giving him looks and he knew this hadn't been planned at all.

By the end he wasn't sure who should be clapping for whom. But the ridiculousness of it all cracked him up before he could decide. Nathaniel laughed so loudly and for so long that the three of them had no choice but to join in. It sounded strange to his ears—he didn't remember ever laughing before, not like this, much less having others laughing along with him and not at him. It filled him up from within.

After they all calmed down, Kitty came forward to give him a hug, kicking balloons everywhere to reach him. "Happy birthday," she whispered. He gave her a gentle squeeze in acknowledgement, not trusting his voice.

He'd been seeing a lot more of Kitty these days, and every time he did, she looked younger. The lines on her face weren't as harsh as before, and she moved with more ease. As for her hair, her natural dark roots were proudly showing now and had reached eye level, but the rest was still grey. She'd told him she wouldn't dye it; she'd rather wait it out and see if her body continued the process on its own. Besides, she'd grown fond of it. It certainly suited her, but that wasn't for him to decide.

After they broke apart, Piper followed, practically tackling him and squeezing him so hard he couldn't breathe for a bit. It felt like she'd been meaning to do this for some time, which in turn made him think of all the long hours and brainstorming sessions they'd spent together. Nathaniel squeezed back.

When Piper was done smothering him, she cupped his face and gave him a radiant smile. "May this be the first of many birthdays that we celebrate together." Nathaniel nodded and smiled right back, swallowing down the telling tightness in his throat. He very much wanted that.

After Martha Underwood, no one had bothered with his birthday—not with learning when it was, much less celebrating it. Which wasn't surprising since he had never had friends, not real ones, but going through such an extreme event together had seemed to accelerate something—at least he hoped that was what it was. Now that he knew what had kept Piper and Kitty from visiting him, there was no reason to be resentful. He was just humbled they'd tried so hard when neither had anything to gain from it.

When Piper let him go, Nathaniel noticed Bartimaeus was standing back and examining the cake as Kitty told him she'd bought it the previous night at Edward Norwood's bakery, so of course it wasn't poisoned. Watching Bartimaeus sniffing a birthday cake while surrounded by balloons of every possible shade was something Nathaniel had never envisioned. It was both ridiculous and decidedly unprecedented, just like most things with Bartimaeus.

"Lemon sponge cake," Bartimaeus decided. "Definitely hints of mint and ginger." And then, after a dramatic pause: "He's recovering from a coma, not a cold!"

Kitty replied quite petulantly with, "He didn't strike me as a chocolate person!"

"So you got him glorified throat medicine?"

"Don't be like that, Bartimaeus. It's actually quite good. I've had it once or twice in the past," Piper diplomatically intervened.

Overcome by a sudden, alien wave of affection for the three of them, Nathaniel stayed rooted to the spot during that entire exchange. Well, he certainly wasn't expecting Bartimaeus to wish him a happy birthday, much less hug him—that'd be preposterous. To be honest, he hadn't been expecting hugs at all. Besides, Bartimaeus probably wouldn't understand the significance of birthdays anyway. Yet, here he was, discussing cake flavours like it was the most important thing in the world. It was a wonder he'd even participated—ah, it was for the performance, of course.

Still… As the three of them sat there eating cake while Bartimaeus let his mouth run like usual, Nathaniel had to viciously fight the smiles that kept wanting to form. Because Bartimaeus simply wasn't funny and he shouldn't be encouraged in the slightest.

Somewhere in the back of his head a wayward thought whispered that he'd never been this happy, and Nathaniel swallowed another bite of cake, trying not to think too hard about it.

Instead he thought that Piper was right—he hadn't eaten a cake this delicious in his entire life.

Later that morning, after they'd all settled down and Nathaniel had mustered the courage to climb the stairs back to the third floor, Piper came to find him in his library. Nathaniel discreetly put aside his notes and books he'd been looking over—not wanting to have to explain why he was doing anything besides relaxing—as she settled in front of him like she had many times before. The familiar picture brought a sense of steadiness to his otherwise jumbled mind.

"I'm loath to do this on your birthday," she started, nervously squirming and staring over his shoulder at the books lining the walls, "but I have a favour to ask."

Nathaniel frowned. This was a first, but he didn't think he was in a position to refuse. Nor did he want to, which was new and a bit alarming, but nothing he couldn't stomach. "Of course."

Piper's smile was tremulous and instantly worried him. "Can Kitty and I move in with you?" she blurted out before he could ask her if something was wrong. Nathaniel sat there stunned for a moment, something which Piper probably took as a refusal, because she immediately started explaining herself. "It's just… I rushed into a promise before thinking… I told Mr Button I would give up my house. He's trying to get the deceased magicians' houses for a programme to reduce homelessness in London, which is especially important after recent events, so you'd think everyone would be on board, but—" She sighed in exasperation. "Most of the magicians in the council are fighting it, and I thought I should set the example, and well—It's absolutely fine if you say no! I can get another place, but Kitty… Kitty needs to stay somewhere safe, and I figured your house is probably the safest place at the moment, especially since I'll be leaving for a bit soon. But really, it's alright if you—"

"Piper," he interrupted her, raising a hand for good measure, "that's a lot of information and I'm a bit confused right now." Which was an understatement. A programme to reduce homelessness? How had he not heard of that? And Piper giving up her own house? Did Kitty even know about this? And why was she leaving? Where was she going? For how long? But Nathaniel chose not to bombard her with all of those questions. She was already twitchy enough. He had to go about this slowly. So he started by asking, "Does Kitty know about this?"

"Not yet," Piper admitted, deflating a bit. "But I thought I should ask you first. If you said no, then there wouldn't be a point in bringing it up with her."

"Indeed. But does she know that you're leaving? Or is that confidential information?"

"It is not exactly confidential, but it is sensitive information."

Nathaniel nodded. "Alright, I understand that."

But he didn't like the idea. Nathaniel wasn't sure what he wanted to do with his life from now on—if politics was the way for him at all or if he should choose a completely different path—but he'd grown used to being kept in the loop at all times, so this was a bit infuriating. He'd learned his lesson at the hospital, however. Right now, there was no telling how he'd react when faced with uncomfortable situations—Asmodeus showing up at the hospital had made his anxiety peak. But there was more to it than that. His anger often crept up on him with worrying speed. He flinched at sudden movements and noises. He always had to open his closet and all the drawers in his room before finally going to sleep, look behind the curtains with his heart in his throat, and still he'd have nightmares that would leave him in a pool of sweat. Worse still—sometimes he'd forget the order of the events leading up to his near-death experience, or lose memories for a bit, and that brought a cold kind of panic he'd never experienced before.

Piper's voice cut through his thoughts. "I really don't want to make you feel uncomfortable at a time like this. I can only try to imagine what it's been like for you, staying here by yourself—well, with Bartimaeus." She made a face. "I'm not sure what's worse."

Nathaniel's lip twitched in amusement, his grim thoughts dissolving into the back of his mind. "He's behaving for the most part."

"I should hope so. He was acting off when he told us about your birthday."

More new information. Bartimaeus had told Piper and Kitty about his birthday? Well, he supposed someone had had to. Still, it seemed that eighteen came with a lot more questions than answers. "How so?"

"Oh, it's hard to explain. He kept saying we shouldn't celebrate it, because the press would pick up on it. And since the government isn't the same anymore, there could be a leak of information if someone started looking at birth certificates. Who knows if they destroyed all the evidence, etc. Really, he went on for a while. Then Kitty told him we'd buy you cake and he just shrugged and shut up."

Nathaniel said nothing. In the past he would have shrugged this off, chalked it up to Bartimaeus's incomprehensible whimsy, but now something told him this had been Bartimaeus's way of getting Kitty and Piper to celebrate his birthday. After all, he had done the same thing to get Kitty to save him from the golem. But he wasn't in danger now, and thinking of possible reasons why Bartimaeus had done this only made his mind run wild imagining the kinds of information Bartimaeus was now privy to.

"You don't have to tell me your decision now," Piper said softly, reassuringly. She made to get up.

"No, no, that's alright. You can move in. This house is so big, and Bartimaeus keeps ranting about how much space I'm wasting." He was the one blabbing now, wasn't he? No matter, he felt strongly about this—Kitty and Piper had gone out of their way to help him, so it was only natural that he should do the same. Besides, Bartimaeus had a point, but Nathaniel figured he shouldn't tell him that.

"Really?" Piper slid back down on the chair, her eyes wide and glimmering with gratitude. "I—thank you. I'll talk to Kitty tomorrow." A shadow crept on her face as she remembered something. "I feel that I should warn you that if we do this, people will talk. The government doesn't have such a strong hold on the press now either."

"Aren't people already talking?" Nathaniel said dismissively.

"I meant about you and Kitty. Maybe about you and me. Well, maybe about the three of us…"

Nathaniel scoffed at the idea. "I know what you meant. Well, maybe that'll stop the ridiculous love letters." He made a disgusted face as he thought back on the letters Bartimaeus had kept just to annoy him.

"Aw, not all of them are that bad," Piper teased, her previous nervousness a fading memory. "Wasn't there a poem about your eyes?"

Nathaniel shuddered. "Don't remind me. Bartimaeus framed that one. I don't even go into my living room anymore."

Piper giggled. "Of course he did." They smiled at each other for a moment longer. "Well, I'll leave you be now. We'll discuss the details later. Thank you again, this means a lot."

"Not a problem."

He was preparing to open the books he'd been looking over, energised by their conversation and its revelations, as Piper got up and grabbed her handbag, as they said their goodbyes. But then she stopped at the door and told him quite plainly: "Oh, we're going out for dinner tonight. Be ready by 6:30pm."

And she was gone after that, leaving him gaping but with no chance to protest or refuse the invitation.

Nathaniel, Bartimaeus, Kitty, and Piper had made it to a highly praised restaurant for dinner, just like Piper had announced they would. In fact, she and Kitty had taken turns calling him to make sure he was getting ready. Nathaniel had mentioned his health, the risks of going out, and the press, but Kitty and Piper had argued that they needed to stop hiding, that getting out would be good for his health, and that the owner was discreet and accommodating. Nathaniel had waved his white flag. Piper and Kitty were relentless and, frankly, a little scary when they teamed up. Which he supposed served him right for indirectly introducing them.

At first Nathaniel had been surprised to learn that the restaurant was inside a modern, luxurious hotel in Whitechapel with a penchant for wide, floor-to-ceiling windows and sandy hues. But now he was glad for the privacy it provided—not many people were inclined to stay in London at the moment, much less to dine out in hotels. Only the odd clinking of silverware and whispered conversation hinted at the presence of other guests, but it was mostly drowned out by the pleasant piano music playing on discreetly located speakers around the room.

The privacy went further than that, however. At Piper's request, the owner had prepared a table in an area somewhat hidden by wooden screens, plants, and—strangely enough—an aquarium, while also still providing a good view of the small stage. The staff didn't stare, the food wasn't poisoned, and there wasn't a single afrit in sight. All this had warranted much self-pinching throughout dinner.

The silky beige tablecloths and the expensive dishware hardly impressed Nathaniel, who'd been to many places like this in his short life. Kitty and Bartimaeus had spent a big part of the meal talking about the decoration, however—Kitty scoffing at the ostentatious details and Bartimaeus commenting on the architecture. Then Bartimaeus had moved on to tell embarrassing stories of Nathaniel's past adventures, and Nathaniel had felt the need to correct his many exaggerations. Kitty had joined in at some point, telling a very shocked Piper of that time she'd punched a fourteen-year-old Nathaniel, backed up by Bartimaeus's calls of "deserved it" and "my hero". Nathaniel had eventually interrupted them to talk about the food, which had ensured Bartimaeus's silence for the remainder of the meal. He'd focused instead on playing with the candles in the centrepiece.

It was, admittedly, a pretty centrepiece, made of fine stained glass and filled with water, where a dozen candles floated about, casting a ring of colourful flowers on the tablecloth. So far, Bartimaeus had made the water bubble and produce new, hypnotic patterns with the candles. Presently, he had joined them close together and made one big flame, further aggravating Nathaniel. He gave Bartimaeus a warning look and the djinni blatantly ignored him, widening the flame until Nathaniel felt that his eyebrows were at risk.

"So, tell me again why he had to come," Nathaniel said, motioning with his head towards Bartimaeus, who looked offended by the gesture.

"Because Kitty wanted to eat an entire pizza by herself but didn't want anyone to know, so she thought she'd pretend we'd split it," Bartimaeus retorted. The remnants of the mushroom risotto on Kitty's plate told a different story, however.

Kitty sighed wistfully. "You know me so well," she said in a fake sweet tone, grinning and batting her eyelashes at Bartimaeus. This was only Nathaniel's second time seeing her formally dressed, and she looked beautiful in her knee-length burgundy dress. The light makeup and slim silver necklace were also new additions, but they suited her. Nathaniel suspected that Piper had spent a long time convincing her to do all this just to eat dinner.

"Yes, mind-reading is one of my many talents."

Against his better judgement, Nathaniel decided to intervene. "Well, what will we do with your food now? They'll ask why you haven't touched it. At least scramble it a little."

"Like you did?" Bartimaeus asked sardonically, giving Nathaniel's grilled calamari a pointed look. Nathaniel only glared in response. He had enough of this at home, since Bartimaeus was preparing almost all of his meals; Piper had dismissed both his cook and his two human servants not to accumulate unnecessary expenses when they didn't know what was going to happen to him. Hiring help now didn't seem wise for many reasons.

Bartimaeus shrugged at his lack of response. "But that's not necessary. I can make it disappear."

Nathaniel had never heard of such magic before. Frowning in doubt, he asked, "You can?"

"Of course." Bartimaeus took the plate and handed it to Kitty. "Open up, Jones."

Kitty directed a blank stare at Bartimaeus. Nathaniel could've sworn he saw her give Bartimaeus the finger behind the table's edge, but the tablecloth hid part of her hand, so he couldn't be sure.

Piper shook her head at them in amusement, her golden jewellery catching the light, then turned to Nathaniel. "Answering your question, it's safer this way. And it's less conspicuous if he's in full view and not buzzing around our ears."

"Not to mention more hygienic," Kitty supplied with a smirk.

"You've showered today because Piper forced you to. Don't act like you're the Queen of Hygiene. No, that's birthday boy over there, who took two hours getting ready."

"My movements are limited, as you well know," Nathaniel replied in a tight voice, his face burning up.

He certainly didn't enjoy having to be extra careful not to let too much water hit his side; the waterproof dressing wasn't as waterproof as advertised. At least his shoulder was healing much faster. Still, the worst part was how much effort it took for him to move. Never had he imagined that showering would be a struggle or leave him a tad breathless. But nowadays it always took him ages to wash or dry his toes. Sometimes he even had to sit down on the toilet to dry up and Bartimaeus wouldn't know about that in this lifetime if Nathaniel had a say in it.

Dr Elgar had told him that all this was normal and assured him that he was healing faster than expected, probably because of the magic—not that she allowed that Bartimaeus continued with the treatment without her supervision. Nathaniel still had a hard time picturing how it could be worse or slower than this.

Kitty snorted, bringing his attention back to the topic at hand. "Says the one who hasn't showered in five-thousand years. Don't think that just because you look gorgeous tonight I'll forget where that essence has been."

"No need to be hurtful," Nathaniel protested.

"I didn't mean you. It's your birthday," Kitty told him seriously like she hadn't just gleefully made fun of his fourteen-year-old self. "But didn't you last summon Bartimaeus from inside a silver tureen of fish soup?"

"Thanks for that lovely memory, Kitty. I can still feel bits of herbs and garlic swirling around." Bartimaeus shuddered.

Nathaniel frowned. "Does that mean I have bits of garlic and herbs floating around inside me?"

"Hadn't thought of that. Hopefully they just knew to go straight to your digestive system." He turned to Kitty, apparently done with the subject. Nathaniel could only think how odd it was for Bartimaeus to know about the digestive system at all. "But let's focus on the part where you said I'm gorgeous."

Kitty rolled her eyes and gave Nathaniel and Piper a look, as if to say, "Can you believe this guy?"

"This is what you get for flattering him," Nathaniel said flatly while Piper simply shook her head again as if no, she couldn't believe it.

"It's not flattery if it's the truth." Bartimaeus waggled his eyebrows at him. His stupid, perfect eyebrows.

Bartimaeus was right, of course. He looked as handsome as Nathaniel had ever seen him, in the guise of a dark-skinned young man with messy brown hair. Nathaniel had seen this guise before, but not often, and Bartimaeus usually appeared dressed only in belted jeans. Which meant that Nathaniel knew how he looked under his white shirt and suit jacket. Which in turn made him blush and vehemently reprimand his foolish mind for the picture. And then wonder why he had a mental picture saved at all.

Piper saved him. "I think Mr Brunetti is coming to greet us, so maybe we should… act normal?" She said this while looking straight at Bartimaeus. His eyes twinkled with pure mischief and Nathaniel was reminded of the many times Bartimaeus had ruined his public appearances. "Please, Bartimaeus?"

That surprised him. He didn't know much about how Piper handled her spirits, only what he'd seen from her handling his whenever he was too busy, or simply not in the mood to deal with Bartimaeus. But Piper had never asked Bartimaeus to please do something as far as he remembered.

Bartimaeus looked surprised too. "Well, since you put it so nicely." Nathaniel didn't believe him for a second.

"Maybe you and I should hit the bar," Kitty suggested, getting up and pulling at Bartimaeus's elbow. Nathaniel eyed his water unhappily. He had been drinking alcohol since he was fourteen just because he'd been part of the government, but on the day that he was turning eighteen, he couldn't drink. The cold, stinging irony wasn't lost on him.

"Fine, but I'm not pulling your hair out of your face if your martini does a round trip," Nathaniel heard him say as the twosome disappeared behind the aquarium. Through the water, the large oval-shaped bar looked blurry, but he could make out the pristine granite countertops and the twinkling of countless bottles arranged in two glass columns. Three stoic-faced bartenders stood by, idly polishing glasses and preparing ingredients.

Nathaniel and Piper barely had the time to share a relieved look before a big, tan man appeared from behind the aquarium, arms outstretched as if for a hug. "Madam Prime Minister, what an honour to have you!"

It was an odd feeling to watch Piper being fussed over. Nathaniel had grown used to her quiet efficiency, her near invisibility. In fact, he'd appreciated those qualities—they were the reason he had chosen her as his assistant. But the situation had certainly changed, and with it had come the need for Piper to adapt.

Nathaniel didn't remember the moment when he'd learned Piper was the interim Prime Minister. Frankly, he'd probably been focused on other things, and when it'd finally dawned on him, a reaction wasn't expected anymore. And while he didn't know much about the new council, he doubted there was anyone more competent than Piper. He'd meant what he'd said a week ago—Piper seemed to be accomplishing more than the past council would have were the situation different. Or at least she was trying to.

Piper got to her feet to greet Mr Brunetti, her emerald dress falling to her knees. She smiled politely as she stretched out a hand. But said hand was ignored in favour of two loud kisses. Piper blinked at the man in surprise and he let her go with a good-humoured beam. She recovered quickly, however, putting back the polite mask a magician should always have on hand.

"No, thank you for the invitation, Mr Brunetti. This is such a lovely place, and the food was exquisite. Our compliments to the chef."

Nathaniel mentally winced when Mr Brunetti noticed two nearly full plates and his smile fell. Nathaniel rushed to say, "Our friend's a vegetarian. He didn't know that carbonara has bacon in it. And I—well, I'm still recovering, so I can't eat much at a time."

The moment when someone noticed who he was always made for an entertaining reaction. Brunetti's brown eyes bulged out almost comically, his protruding lower lip trembled a bit as he decided on what to say. Then the smile returned, and he took two large steps to heartily shake Nathaniel's hand.

"Oh no, please do not get up. I insist, Mr Mandrake. It's such an honour to meet you. I had no idea you were giving us this honour."

Brunetti had big hands with meaty fingers; hands undoubtedly used to many handshakes and paper cuts. Upon closer inspection, Nathaniel could tell that what he had labelled as 'big' earlier should be changed to 'muscular'. He also noticed an old scar across Brunetti's right cheek and had to fight the instinct to touch his own face.

"No, please, you flatter me. I'm delighted to be here." Nathaniel's relief that the man had accepted his excuse was only rivalled by the relief he felt that Bartimaeus wasn't there to witness and potentially spoil this interaction. Nathaniel would have liked to get up, though. Sitting was a lot less comfortable than standing, but nothing beat lying down so far. However, how could he when Brunetti was so adamant that he didn't?

"I'm so humbled to have you both dining at my hotel. I'll take care to get something else for your friend."

"That's very kind of you, but it isn't necessary. He, uh, ate a lot of garlic bread." And as he thought this Nathaniel prayed to no one in particular that Brunetti didn't think to check their order.

"Oh, but that isn't a meal," he insisted.

Nathaniel grinned back tightly, discreetly trying to remove his hand from the sandwich Brunetti had created with his own. He sent Piper a silent cry for help, which she understood, bless her.

"Mr Brunetti, it is my understanding there'll be live music tonight."

That did the trick. Brunetti finally let go of Nathaniel's hand and returned to Piper's side, where he explained that the restaurant had live music every Saturday and that he tried to promote local talent as much as possible. Piper listened and nodded politely, but Nathaniel had lost interest. Music had always been his worst subject, and even now he didn't understand what the fuss was all about.

No, he preferred the quiet introspection that came with drawing. Nathaniel wistfully thought about his sketchbook back at home. He'd been so bored lately that all he did on his free time from his research was experimental sketches—from drawing still life to Kitty and Piper to Bartimaeus's many guises. He'd found that the variety in Bartimaeus's shapes challenged him the most, so now he had a reasonable amount of work to show for it, which Bartimaeus could never find because he'd most surely blow things out of proportion. And his ego would inflate to the size of the moon, which wasn't wise, seeing as it barely fit on Earth in the first place.

Soon after, Mr Brunetti excused himself to go speak with the musicians and Nathaniel relaxed back in his chair again with a sigh. "He's quite… friendly," he told Piper.

She smiled apologetically at him. "He's eager to please."

"I thought you didn't trust him?"

"Well, I don't trust that he doesn't want anything in return for his efforts in catching Asmodeus. But I figured it would be best to keep him closer just in case."

Nathaniel nodded. "Clever."

"Learned from the best," she told him with another grin. Nathaniel had to grin back.

They fell into a comfortable silence after that. From his vantage point, Nathaniel could see that more people had come in and gathered around the stage. The crowd talked in excited whispers, heads turned this way and that, eyes bright with curiosity. He spotted Kitty and Bartimaeus at the back of the crowd, leaning against the bar. Kitty had a glass in her hand and Bartimaeus was making her throw her head back with laughter.

Nathaniel drank the rest of his water and averted his gaze to the stage as an uncomfortable clench he didn't want to think about settled in his stomach. It was a simple rectangular platform with a black cloth covering it, barely large enough for the instruments—the grand piano and the drums took up much of the space, leaving little room for the double bass and the microphone, which was so close to the edge someone from the audience could probably yank it. He'd better keep Bartimaeus from getting too close lest he get any ideas.

"Do you want to join them?" Piper suddenly asked. She had her chin on her hand as she stared at Bartimaeus and Kitty, who was waving them over.

"I don't know if that's such a good idea," he said. Bartimaeus's gaze landed on him then and Nathaniel sat upright, feeling once more annoyed with himself for his reaction. This was absolutely ridiculous and inappropriate—there were a lot of beautiful people there that night—Kitty and Piper included. All three bartenders were good-looking, and Nathaniel idly wondered if that was a requirement for the position.

"I doubt you'll be recognised now. Look, the musicians have arrived."

It was true. The small crowd was cheering and applauding as it parted to let the musicians get to the stage. Nathaniel imagined what it'd be like to become part of that namelessness just this one time. Would he feel suffocated? Freed?

He looked at Kitty and Bartimaeus again, and felt something tugging at his stomach, pulling him. He had stood up and made it to the bar before he knew what he was doing. The music had started by then—a soft piano intro at first, and then drums and a powerful voice that had elicited more cheering from the audience.

Piper had followed him and was beaming at the stage. "What a pleasant surprise!"

"It is!" Kitty agreed. She put her martini glass down on the counter and jumped off the stool. "Let's get closer to the stage."

And off she went to the middle of the crowd, not waiting for them to follow. Piper shrugged and went after her, cocking her head for Nathaniel to join. He stayed where he was, however, not wanting to test his luck. Even if standing felt better than sitting, it was still a bit of an effort when he had to do it for longer than a few minutes.

Bartimaeus said something, and just by looking at his face Nathaniel could tell it wasn't flattering, but he had to ask Bartimaeus to repeat. He leaned in to do just that. "Afraid you'll embarrass yourself?" There was no breath ghosting over his ear, but the proximity of their faces made Nathaniel flinch.

"N-No." He cleared his throat in frustration as Bartimaeus raised an amused eyebrow at him. This was what he got for always being surrounded by power-hungry people three times his age—throw a good-looking, young adult his way and he turned into a bumbling mess. That had happened with Jane, and it was happening now, even though this was Bartimaeus and he should be nothing but indifferent. Disgusted even. Had he ever felt disgusted by Bartimaeus? Apart from when the djinni made it inevitable, he didn't think so. Worse still—had he just thought of Bartimaeus as a person? There went his last magician instincts.

But no, Nathaniel just needed to hold out until Bartimaeus dropped this guise and things went back to normal. Well, as normal as possible. To this new, strange dynamic built on reluctant mutual respect and understanding.

Which didn't mean Nathaniel wouldn't get Bartimaeus back for his comment. "Afraid your moves are outdated?"

Bartimaeus's smirk was slow to form, but it took over his whole face when it did—his eyes glimmering with amusement, eyebrow arching, nose wrinkled in a way that wasn't at all adorable. God, what was wrong with him tonight?

"Are you offering to teach me modern ones?"

Nathaniel hoped his blush wouldn't spread from his ears to his face. "Are you going to embarrass me?"

"Hopefully."

"Then better luck trying to get Kitty to help you."

Bartimaeus snorted and then forcibly exhaled through his nose. That was when Nathaniel noticed the smoke—a sweet-smelling haze that had settled around the bar. It was undoubtedly a combination of the cigarette smoke—a result from the many smokers watching the concert from the bar—and the incense someone had decided to use to counter the smoke. It wasn't working as they'd hoped.

"Are you okay?" he asked Bartimaeus, who simply shrugged in response. "Do you want to go outside to catch some air?"

"Are you okay?"

Nathaniel clicked his tongue and crossed his arms over his chest. "I've always known that this bothers you, alright? Now I know how much."

Bartimaeus nodded seriously, like he understood what Nathaniel wasn't saying. "Weird, isn't it?"

It was Nathaniel's turn to nod. "Very much so. But…" Bartimaeus prompted him with an inquisitive eyebrow. "Look, knowledge is always a good thing, right? Although the experience wasn't enjoyable at all, I've learned some things because of it. Including some things about myself."

"Oh?"

"Don't look so surprised. I know you did too."

Bartimaeus's eyes softened, but just for a split second. It was so fast Nathaniel thought he'd imagined it—maybe he'd been projecting Ptolemy onto Bartimaeus again. He seemed to be doing that a lot these days, as if his mind fiercely wanted him to see Bartimaeus differently, and he couldn't help but wonder if the changes he was beginning to notice in himself were bigger and broader than he'd anticipated. It was a scary thought. Sharing a mind with Bartimaeus had triggered this disconcerting uncertainty, something which he was beginning to realise had always been there. So now he was left walking in the dark, not knowing where he'd come from or where he was going. He couldn't help but worry that he'd be lost in limbo forever.

"You know," Bartimaeus ducked his head down to Nathaniel's ear again, "Kitty and Piper really wanted to make today special for you. So even if you can only stand for fifteen minutes at a time, wouldn't it be better to spend those fifteen minutes with them? God forbid you actually enjoy yourself a little too."

Nathaniel glared at Bartimaeus, but he had a point. Besides, it was getting hard to breathe with all the smoke. It was best to move away from the bar. "Fine," he grumbled. "But you're coming too."

Before Bartimaeus could protest, Nathaniel grabbed his wrist and dragged him into the crowd. As they slowly made their way, Nathaniel narrowly avoided getting elbowed on the side and hair in his mouth. And he told himself that he didn't care what Bartimaeus thought of this; Nathaniel wasn't going to leave him in the middle of all that smoke. As his grip tightened around Bartimaeus's wrist, he noticed that the fake skin was cold to the touch. But it wasn't a human kind of cold—Bartimaeus burned so hotly it felt cold to his nervous system. Another random piece of knowledge he'd put together from sharing the djinni's mind.

A flash of green in the crowd caught his eye—Piper's dress. When they reached the girls, Kitty grabbed Nathaniel's free hand and awkwardly and slowly spun him around, her laughter and the mirth in her eyes contagious. Then Piper grabbed his shoulders and gently pulled and pushed them to the beat of the song and Nathaniel was laughing and letting himself go. Again. This wasn't a song to energetically dance to, thankfully. As he looked around, he noticed people swaying this way and that, singing along when they knew the lyrics. He tried to stick to that easy rhythm, careful not to upset his injuries, and constantly turning his head this way and that to check if anyone had realised who he was.

But no one was paying him any mind, and soon it became clear why.

By the time he turned to search for Bartimaeus, the djinni had climbed on top of a speaker and was madly twirling his hips to the rhythm, wildly flailing his arms about and generally looking like a mad person. Later that night Bartimaeus would say that this was all to keep the three of them from being noticed, but Nathaniel didn't believe him for a second.

Kitty whistled along with the audience. Piper stopped to stare open-mouthed at the scene. The singer's voice cracked on a high note as she dissolved into giggles. Someone to his right shouted something about wanting Bartimaeus's underwear, which only made Bartimaeus throw his suit jacket at the crowd. It made it to Nathaniel's hands without him needing to move. He hid his face in it, but it was too late—the image was already burned in his brain.

And he laughed some more.

He laughed so hard his side started hurting a good kind of pain.

Did I seriously just write a chapter where only good stuff happens? *gasp* No, I haven't been kidnapped by aliens (although that would explain a lot), and anjumstar can attest to that, since she's been reassuring me that it's fine not to make everything suck from time to time. Many thanks to her, as usual, for her stellar beta work.

With that being said, I hope that you and your loved ones are doing fantastic and that this stupid virus dies soon so we can hug some people again. Seriously, my cat is so done with me.