Ptolemy's Gate

Ripples of wonder ran through Nathaniel's body; his brain fizzed with it. "You're so beautiful!" he said.
    "Oh, only now?" He'd really fallen into that one. It was the tone of stupefied amazement that had sunk him.[6]

[6] Nothing changes. Nefertiti was always doing that to Akhenaton, sidling over while he was doing the crop accounts, asking him how she looked in her nice new headdress. He never learned.

"No! I only meant—"
    I thought it was time to assert myself. The poor sap wasn't doing so well on his own. I took control of his larynx. "Do you mind keeping your voice down?" I said. "I can't hear yourself think."
    He went very quiet then. They both did. I felt him raise a hand to his mouth, as if he'd just hiccuped in company.
    "That's right," I said. "Me. What, did you think I'd be all nice and quiet for you? Think again, sonny. There are two of us in this body now. Check this out."
    To prove my point I lifted one of his fingers and methodically picked his nose. He uttered a squawk of protest. "Stop that!"
    I lowered the arm. "That's not all I can do if I put your mind to it. Sheesh. . . it's a strange little world in here . . . Like being dunked in chocolate mousse, except without the nice flavor. Some of your thoughts, Nathaniel . . . Well! If Kitty only knew. . ."
    He wrested control of his mouth again. "Enough! I'm in charge. We agreed that. We must act in harmony, or risk destruction."
    Kitty spoke from her chair. "He's right, Bartimaeus. We've wasted too much time already. You've got to work together."
    "Fine," I said, "but he needs to listen to me. I know more about Faquarl and Nouda than he does. I'll be able to preempt their actions. And I can move his body around all right. Watch this. . ."
    I'd figured out the leg muscles nicely; I bent them, stretched them—my essence did the rest. From a standing start we leaped over the desk to the far side of the room.
    "Not bad, eh?" I chuckled. "Smooth as silk." I bent the legs again, gave a stretch. . . At exactly the same time the magician attempted to walk in the opposite direction. Our body floundered, one leg up in the air, the other about 170 degrees akimbo from it. We did the splits, uttered harmonic cries of mild discomfort, and crashed upon the carpet.
    "Yeah," Kitty said. "Really smooth."
    I allowed Nathaniel to organize the business of getting to his feet again. "I knew that would happen," he snarled. "This is hopeless."
    "You just don't like taking orders," I snapped back. "Don't like your slave calling the shots. Once a magician, always a—"
    "Quiet," Kitty said. Whether it was her aura or not, something about her nowadays brooked no argument. We stood quiet and let her speak. "If you took a moment to stop squabbling," she went on, "you'd see that you're acting together far better than Nouda and the others are managing in their stolen bodies. Faquarl was at home in Hopkins, but he'd had practice. The others were almost helpless."
    "She's right. . ." Nathaniel said. "Nouda couldn't walk."
    It took a djinni to get to the nub of the matter. "There are two crucial differences," I said. " I haven't destroyed your mind. That's got to help. Also, I know your birth name. I'll bet that gives me deeper access to you than the other spirits can hope to gain. There you go, you see. I knew it would come in useful one day."
    The magician scratched his chin. "Maybe . . ."
    Our philosophical speculations were curtailed by an impatient cry. "Whatever," Kitty said. "Just tell each other what you plan and you should avoid stupid pratfalls. Now—how about the Staff?"
    How about the Staff? All this time we had held it in our fist, and even through Nathaniel's insulating bones and flesh I could feel its immanence. I sensed the restless writhing of the great beings trapped inside it, dimly heard their pleading to be free. The locks and binding seals that Gladstone had wrought upon the wood were still as strong as the day he fixed them. Fortunate, that—since, if released all at once, the pent-up energies would have leveled a city block.[7]

[7] Using an item like this is a bit like unscrewing the top of a cola bottle. No. Perhaps it is moderately more exciting: imagine shaking the bottle first. Then you slowly, slowly turn the top. . . The secret is to turn it enough to get just a little fizz.Then the magician can direct that power where he wants. Too much turning or doing it too fast, and your hands get sticky. In a manner of speaking. Notable buildings destroyed by