Bartimaeus: The Hearth's Warming Heart

by Mysterious Pony


Chapter One: Bartimaeus

The air grew still. Silence. For awhile it seemed that nothing would happen. Then, a loud moaning began to permeate the air. The candle flames guttered in their wicks and snuffed out as a hole appeared in the air above the pentacle, sucking in all the light. It expanded into a doorway as something on the other side rent through the opening, and the howling increased into a full fledge maelstrom. From the depths of the Other Place a figure sprang, his body a writhing mass of shadow, his eyes cruel sockets of flame. He stood confidently in the circle and set his eyes on whatever brave soul had attempted to challenge him.

Which immediately opened wide in shock.

"What is the matter? Has thou never seen a pony before?"

"I... er... well yes, but-"

"Then what is the problem, pray tell?"

When you’re a 5,000 year-old spirit like me, you tend to come across some strange things in your time, and boy, had I encountered some weird things. I had seen deserts coated red with the blood of fallen armies. I had seen palaces destroyed and rebuilt in the course of the same day. I had met many strange and horrendous creatures with most bizarre appearances.* I had seen other djinn willingly leaving the Other Place and dancing around the city streets. But nothing could have prepared me for what was sitting in the opposite pentacle. It was a talking blue horse, with wings and a horn to boot.

And that was the weird thing; it was an alicorn. This wasn't some Glamour or other magical illusion. I had already checked the Seven Planes** and she was an equine on all of them, even the seventh, where her true form would've shown if she were a spirit of some kind. I was able to detect a strong magical aura around her, but that just made things even more confusing. Thoroughly bewildered now, I looked around to get a bearing of my surroundings.

The room I was in was pretty traditional magician's fare. Dark velvet curtains were draped along the walls, obscuring the windows and casting shadows on every surface. The floor was covered in a carpet made of a similar fabric, the candles and bowls of rosemary and other incense placed at various intervals around the pentacle. A fire blazed merrily in a hearth across the room, and an old-fashioned wardrobe sat on the opposite side. Dominating the room was the large, plush bed in the center. It was very flashy, with indigo silk curtains surrounding the circular mattress while an twinkling chandelier hung from the ceiling above it, its lights shining in all directions to give the impression of constellations. It was in this royal construction that the alicorn lay in.***

She was tall and regal, with a deep azure coat. Her mane was a shade of indigo, and undulated gently in an unseen breeze. Her face was dominated by round, disproportionately large eyes. She also had a black tiara on her head, and a chest plate donned with a crescent moon, which was probably the symbol of some new lunar cult.

"If thou are done gawking, we have a task for thee." The creature's voice held a hint of amusement, or I assumed it did. She was shouting it out like she was a hundred miles away. Clearly someone didn't know the term, 'indoor voice.'

First things first, I had to figure out where I was. I decided to cut to the chase. The balrog crossed its arms indignantly. "Alright, What's going on here? Is this some magician's sick idea of a joke? What are you?"

The horse raised an eyebrow questionly. "This is not a joke. We are in need of thy services, demon. As for our name, does thou take us for a foal?"

"Well, now that you mention it..."

Her eyes narrowed, but other wise she remained calm. "Hold thy tounge. We do not have the time for idle chit-chat."

"Oh, sorry, are you in a rush? I had no idea. In that case, I'll just- mfffph!" My goading was cut short as a shiny zipper appeared unceremoniously across my mouth. The horse's horn stopped glowing and she observes her handiwork. "There, that should keep thy tongue straight."

Okay, this was creepy. The zipper spooked me even more than the talking horse. I certainly didn't add it onto my face, so who or what did? Random materialization didn't just happen, it goes against the laws of physics.**** Somehow this thing, or whatever was controlling her, had managed to directly manipulate my essence, and that scared me. This didn't make sense, but then again, what did right now?

The alicorn's voice snapped me out of my daze. "Pay attention, vile demon. We are not going to repeat ourselves." She shifted into a more comfortable position, and I noticed something that I hadn't seen at first. A tattoo of a crescent moon, the same symbol etched onto her chestplate, adorned her flank.

"Over the past three months, numerous fillies have been reported missing in cities all across Equestria. There are no signs of forced entry, no signs of struggles, no magical residue, they just disappear overnight. So far we have found no evidence to prove that they have been foalnapped, but it is nigh impossible that the are simply a bunch of coincidences. Somepony, or something is taking them, for what reason we do not know. Conventional methods of search have proved to be useless to us, so we have decided to take a more... subtle approach." She looks at me pointedly. "Demon, we charge thee to go forth and find the pony, or thing, responsible for these atrocities, using means of espionage." Her horn flares up again, but instead of using my essence as silly putty, a picture floats out of the cupboard and is set in my pentacle. "We assume that thou is able to change thy shape?"

Well that's a stupid question, I thought as I rolled my eyes. Any spirit stronger than an imp can change its form at will; it's one of the few ways we can gain respite from the cruel clutches of the earth. I would have pointed this out, but the obstruction over my mouth had other ideas.

A small, charcoal-grey unicorn gazed solemnly out from the painting at me. He was a short, squat little fellow, with a coat the color of ash. His mane and tail were a luxurious silver, and fell down across his face. His pale, watery-blue eyes were the size of ostrich eggs, and the fact that the rest of his body was miniaturized made them look even more freakishly large. I'd put his age around early foalhood at a haphazard guess. I looked up from the picture at the horse, who was looking at me expectantly. "Well, what is thou waiting for?"

She couldn't be serious, could she? How in the Other Place would I be able to be subtle strutting around as a miniature unicorn?***** I searched her eyes for any hint that this was a prank of some kind. Nothing. Her gaze radiated the cool authority of one who had long practice in giving orders and expecting them done. I reluctantly obliged, silently vowing to make her pay for this outrage.

It took a couple of tries to get my appearance in the form that the alicorn wanted. My first attempt had long, spindly legs like reed stalks, and the second's head was swollen up like a balloon. The third one wasn't perfect either; it was still a bit on the scrawny side, and the front bangs covered my left eye, but since my "mistress" was pressed for time, she accepted it as, "good enough."

She cleared her throat importantly before continuing. "The town thy shall be located to is known as Ponyville. A small, rural village with a fairly large filly population, it is likely that the foalnapper with strike there soon. We have made arrangements for thou to be stay at the Inn of the Prancing Pony. While stationed there, thou will integrate with the community and search for anything unusual that could possibly relate to the disappearances. Thy will be under the persona of Silver Tongue, an exchange student from Canterlot who will stay for an indefinite period of time." Exchange student? I guess you could do worse for a cover-up. She points her hoof at me, her expression hardening into a icy mask. "Thou shall reveal thy true demonic nature to no pony, nor will thou use any of thy foul magic in public unless it is absolutely necessary for the purposes of thy mission. Thou are a foal, don't forget. The most powerful spell one of thy age should be able to cast is a weak levitation. If even the slightest whiff of thy existence comes within reach of us or anypony else, we will sentence thee to the Dismal Flame without question."

Wow. She must be very afraid of someone finding out about her snoop if she was willing to put my life on the line for a simple use of a Detonation or Flux. I can only imagine how much her servants adore her.

"While in Ponyville, thy will meet an associate of ours, or it is more apt to say that she will find you. Through her, thou will relay weekly reports to us. Any questions thou will have retaining to thy mission you shall ask her about. It should also be noted that, aside from the previously mentioned associate, thou will tell no one of thy servitude to us. Does thou understand our instructions?" She unzips my mouth with her magic.

I nodded. "Crystal." Do some snooping, keep a low profile, and report back to the big boss every now and then. A pretty standard job for someone of my great skills. There were still a couple of things bugging me however. First was the obvious fact that I was talking to a miniature winged unicorn. Her constant referring to things as ponies, combined with the insistence that I be one, was getting really old, really fast. The zipper around my mouth didn't help things either. I was still sure that this was some sort of elaborate prank for who knows what ends, but a small part at the back of my head was begining to wonder otherwise. Second was her speech pattern. Last time I checked, thou hadn't been used for several centuries, and she also used the term Dismal Flame instead of the modernized Shriveling Fire. Either the puppeteer behind this liked to do things traditionally, or he was inexperienced and reading from a book. Finally was the nature of the mission itself. Kidnapping children wasn't something out of the ordinary, in fact it was quite commonplace,****** but if they were disappearing at random all over, then something fishy was definitely on the horizon.

A small golden slip of paper floated into my vision. Depositing it in my mouth alongside a small bag of golden coins that didn't resemble any modern currency that I knew of, the horse said, "This ticket is for the 3:00 train to Ponyville. Do not loose it along the way to the station. Thou are dismissed. For thy own sake, we hope thou does not fail." Before I am able to speak, her horn flares up in a flash of white, and the world dissolves around me.

Typical magician. Always has to have the last word.

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* One of the most notable would probably have to be Zarbustibal of Yemen. He was so deformed that some djinn actually assumed his form after his demise to terrify local villages. Not that you'd ever find me stooping to something that low.

** The Seven Planes are the levels of existence in which all things are expressed in various forms. Look, I've explained this all before, so if you don't know this by now then you really haven't been paying attention.

*** Someone had somehow managed to stitch a full pentacle into the bedsheets, so whoever occupied it would be able to give orders without even having to get up out of the comfort of bed. I have to admit, it was a pretty ingenious idea.

****Conservation of mass dictates that matter cannot be created or destroyed. Even when djinn such as myself change our shape, our essence still retains the same amount of substance. You can't just poof stuff out of thin air.

*****Not to mention it would be incredibly embarrassing if someone saw me in such a getup. I'd be the laughing stock of the Other Place for the next two-thousand years.

******Back before the Brits abolished the monarchy and formed a parliamentary republic, most governments were passed down by heir. Enemy magicians often sent grabbed young princes and princesses while they were sleeping and hold them for ransom, believing that they could somehow take control by holding the life of the ruler's first born. Of course most kings had multiple children, so having one less to squabble over the estate could occasionally be a blessing.