Ptolemy's Gate

"Well, you're quite right, Bartimaeus," she said. "I am not a magician, thank goodness . And this is the one and only summoning that I ever intend to do. I've been planning it for the last three years."
    She took another breath and waited. . . A dozen more questions occurred to me.[4] But I said nothing.

    [4] Not to mention twenty-two possible solutions to each one, sixteen resulting hypotheses and counter-theorems, eight abstract speculations, a quadrilateral equation, two axioms, and a limerick. That's raw intelligence for you.

"This is just a means to an end," she went on. "I'm not interested in the things that the magicians want. You don't have to worry about that."
    Another pause. Did I speak? No. I just kept shtoom.
    "I don't want any of that," the girl said. "I don't want to acquire vast power or wealth. I think that's all despicable."
    My strategy was working, albeit with the pace of a tortoise in lead boots. I was getting an explanation.
    "And I certainly don't want to subjugate enslaved spirits," she added brightly. "If that's what you're thinking."
    "Not interested in subjugation?!" Bang went my strategy— but hey, I'd managed more than a minute's silence, which was itself some kind of record. The diminished demon fingered its burned region gingerly, letting off little oohs and aahs of discomfort. "You've got a funny way of going about it then. I'm in pain here, you know."
    "I was just proving a point, that's all," she said. "Look, would you mind not doing that? You're putting me off my stride."
    "Doing what? I was only feeling—"
    "I saw quite well what you were feeling. Just stop it. And while you're-about it, can't you change into something else? That really is the most hideous incarnation. I thought you had more class."
    "This —hideous?" I whistled."You really haven't done many summonings, have you? All right then, seeing as you're so sensitive. I shall cover my modesty." I changed into my favorite guise. Ptolemy suited me, as I felt comfortable in his form, and he suited the girl too, as his burned bits were hidden under his loincloth.
    As soon as I altered, her eyes lit up. "Yes," she whispered under her breath. "That's it!"
    I looked at her, eyes narrowed. "Sorry, can I help you with something?"
    "No, it's nothing. Um, that's. . . that's a much better shape." But she was all breathless and excited and it took her a few moments to regain her poise. I sat down cross-legged on the floor and waited.
    The girl sat too. For some reason she was suddenly more relaxed.. Where a minute earlier her words had been slow and cumbersome, now they burst from her in a veritable flood.
    "Well, I want you to listen to me very carefully, Bartimaeus," she said, leaning forward with her fingers jabbing against the floor. I watched them closely, just in case they chanced to jab a chalk line, maybe smudging it a little. I was interested in what she had to say, for sure, but I wasn't going to miss an opportunity of escape.
    Ptolemy rested his chin upon the back on one hand. "Go ahead. I'm listening."
    "Good. Oh, I'm so pleased it's worked out so well." She rocked back and forth on her haunches, almost hugging herself with delight. "I hardly dared to hope that I'd succeed. I had so much to learn—you have no idea. Well. . . maybe you do," she conceded, "but from a standing start I can tell you it was not much fun."
    My dark eyes frowned at her. "You've learned all this in three years?" I was impressed, and more than a little doubtful.
    "I started not long after I saw you. When I got my new identity papers through. I was able to visit libraries, get books of magic out—"
    "But you hate magicians!" I burst out. "You hate what they do. And you hate us spirits too! You told me so to my face—-which, I might add, rather hurt my feelings. What's changed that makes you want to call one up?"
    "Oh, I wasn't after any old demon," she said. "The whole purpose of my studying all this time, of my mastering these. . . these wicked skills, was to summon you"
    "Me?"
    "You seem surprised."
    I drew myself up. "Not at all, not at all. What was it that drew you back? My marvelous personality, I suppose? Or my sparkling conversation?"
    She chuckled. "Well, not the personality, of course. But yes—the conversation was what did it for me, what caught my imagination when we spoke before."
    In truth, I remembered this conversation too. Three years had passed, but it seemed longer now, back in the days when my perennial master Nathaniel