Free Jonathan Stroud - Bartimaeus 1 by The Amulet of Samarkand 2012 11 13 11 53 18 573 Page B

on the task in hand. Now, if you're ready I want you to sketch that again, but this time with a blindfold."

    Six months into his training, Nathaniel observed a summoning for the first time.
    To his deep annoyance, he took no active part. His master drew the pentacles, including a secondary one for Nathaniel to stand in. Nathaniel was not even allowed to light the
    candles and, what was worse, he was told to leave the spectacles behind.

    "How will I see anything?" he asked, rather more pettishly than was his habit with his master; a narrow-eyed stare instantly reduced him to silence.

    The summoning began as a deep disappointment. After the incantations, which
    Nathaniel was pleased to find he largely understood, nothing seemed to happen. A slight breeze blew through the workroom; otherwise all was still. The empty pentacle stayed
    empty. His master stood close by, eyes shut, seemingly asleep. Nathaniel grew very
    bored. His legs began to ache. Evidently this particular demon had decided not to come.
    All at once, he noticed with horror that several of the candles in one corner of the
    workroom had toppled over. A pile of papers was alight, and the fire was spreading.

    Nathaniel gave a cry of alarm and stepped—

    "Stay where you are!"

    Nathaniel's heart nearly stopped in fright. He froze with one foot lifted. His
    master's eyes had opened and were gazing at him with an awful anger. With a voice of
    thunder, his master uttered the seven Words of Dismissal. The fire in the corner of the room vanished, the pile of papers with them; the candles were once again upright and
    burning quietly. Nathaniel's heart quailed in his breast.

    "Step outside the circle, would you?" Never had he heard his master's voice so scathing. "I told you that some remain invisible. They are masters of illusion and know a thousand ways to distract and tempt you. One step more and you'd have been on fire
    yourself. Think of that while you go hungry tonight. Get up to your room!"

    Further summonings were less distressing. Guided only by his ordinary senses,
    Nathaniel observed demons in a host of beguiling shapes. Some appeared as familiar
    animals—mewling cats, wide-eyed dogs, forlorn, limping hamsters that Nathaniel ached
    to hold. Sweet little birds hopped and pecked at the margins of their circles. Once, a shower of apple blossom cascaded from the air, filling the room with a heady scent that made him drowsy.

    He learned to withstand inducements of all kinds. Some invisible spirits assailed
    him with foul smells that made him retch; others charmed him with perfume that
    reminded him of Ms. Lutyens's or Mrs. Underwood's. Some attempted to frighten him
    with hideous sounds—with squelchy rendings, whisperings, and gibbering cries. He
    heard strange voices calling out beseechingly, first high-pitched, then plummeting deeper and deeper until they rang like a funeral bell. But he closed his mind to all these things and never came close to leaving the circle.

    A year passed before Nathaniel was allowed to wear his spectacles during each
    summoning.

    Now he could observe many of the demons as they really were. Others, slightly
    more powerful ones, maintained their illusions even on the other observable planes. To all these disorientating shifts in perception Nathaniel acclimatized calmly and confidently.
    His lessons were progressing well, his self-possession likewise. He grew harder, more
    resilient, more determined to progress. He spent all his spare waking hours poring
    through new manuscripts.

    His master was satisfied with his pupil's progress and Nathaniel, despite his
    impatience with the pace of his education, was delighted with what he learned. It was a productive relationship, if not a close one, and might well have continued to be so, but for the terrible incident that occurred in the summer before Nathaniel's eleventh birthday.

    10

    Bartimaeus

    In the end, dawn came.

    The first grudging rays flickered in the eastern sky. A halo of