Ptolemy's Gate

the Other Place? Hit me with it. Give me the worst."
    During the imp's absence the magician sat slumped upon the desk, supporting himself with the Staff. His shoulder throbbed; the skin about his face and hands still burned. His breathing came in fitful gasps.
    The imp was back. Its face was newly scrubbed and gleaming; it could barely contain its eagerness to be off. "First question. The great spirits are at this very moment leaving the building. Observe." A picture in the depths: Nathaniel recognized the aged front of Westminster Hall. A hole had been blown in the wall. From this issued a cavorting throng—men and women of the government, bounding with awkward, inhuman movements. Detonations flashed, Infernos sparked, random bolts of magic plumed and faded. At their heart stalked the short, round figure of Quentin Makepeace.
    "Off they go," the imp remarked. "About forty-odd, I'd say. Some of them are s till a bit uncertain on their feet, like newborn calves. They'11 get used to it, I'm sure."
    Nathaniel sighed. "Very well."
    "Second question, boss. You'll find a cache of weapons up the stairs, third door on the left. Third question—"
    "Yes? Where is she?"
    "Upstairs, take a right, past the Hall of Statues. Door straight ahead. Here, I can show you if you like." A picture formed: a Whitehall administrator's study. On the floor, in a pentacle, a girl lay very still.
    "Closer in," Nathaniel ordered. "Can you get closer in to her?"
    "Yep. But it's not pretty. It is the same girl, mind. Don't think it's not. There. See what I mean? I couldn't be sure at first, but I recognized the clothes. . ."
    "Oh, Kitty," Nathaniel said.

30

    You took your time, Kitty thought.
    What do you mean? You've only just arrived.
    Rubbish! I've been floating here forever. They've been all around me, telling me to go, and that I was nothing and shouldn't bother looking, and I began to believe them, Bartimaeus. I was just giving up completely when you came to me just now.
    Giving up? You've not been here more than a few seconds. Earth time, that is. It doesn't work the same way on this side. More looped. I would try to explain it, but hey. The important thing is — you're here. I didn't think you'd come.
    It wasn't so difficult. I suppose it was because you helped me through.
    It's harder than you know. You're the first since Ptolemy to succeed. It requires the ability to separate from yourself, which is an impossibility for magicians, being what they are. Those who fail go mad.
    That's my problem now, that separation. Not being me.
    Why don't you try making yourself a guise? Something to focus on. You might feel better.
    I've already made some! The only one that worked was a ball, and that seemed to get the — to get t hem angry.
    We're not angry. Do I seem angry to you?
    Kitty considered the distant, flickering image. It was a stately woman, dark-skinned, long-necked, wearing a tall headdress and a long white gown; she sat on a marbled throne. Her face was beautiful and serene.
    No, she thought, not at all. But you're different.
    I don't mean her. That isn't me —it's a memory. I'm all around you. We're all around you. It's not the same as on your side of the Gate. There's no difference between the spirits here. We're all one. And that includes you now.
    Coils of multiple shades and textures swirled all around, as if in confirmation. The image of the woman vanished; others reappeared. Kitty could see each one a dozen times, as if refracted in an insect's eye, but she knew it was not the images that were multiplied, but herself.
    I don't like this much, she thought.
    The pictures are memories; some of them might even be yours. It is a bit hard to get your head around, I know. Ptolemy found it tricky too, but he perked up when he made himself a shape. Quite artistic it was, a good approximation of himself. Why don't you have another go?
    I can do a ball.
    I'm not conversing with a ball. Have a bit of confidence.
    Kitty steeled herself and applied her will to the surging substances; as before, she managed to create something that approximated a human form. It featured a big wobbly head, a long thin body ending in a triangular mass that might have been a skirt, two stick arms, and a pair of rather trunklike legs. It had an ungainly look.
    Several tendrils of matter inspected it tentatively.
    What's that bit?
    That's an arm.
    Oh, right. That's a relief. Hmm. . . Is this how you see yourself, Kitty? There's serious self-esteem issues going