“He was a worried man (I'm stretching the term a bit here, I know. By now, in his mid to late teens, he might just about have passed for a man. When seen from behind. At a distance. On a very dark night).”

“I had a chance at him now. Things were a bit more even. He knew my name, I knew his. He had six years' experience, I had five thousand and ten. That was the kind of odds that you could do something with.”

“The afrit batted his eyelashes with a ostentatious lack of concern. "Indeed? Have you a name?""A name?" I cried. "I have MANY names! I am Bartimaeus! I am Sakhr al-Jinni! I am N'gorso the Mighty and the Serpent of Silver Plumes!"I paused dramatically. The young man looked blank. "Nope never heard of you. Now if you'll just-”

“There was a loud cough from the man on the stand. I replaced My Magic Mirror carefully on his tray, gave him a cheesy smile, and went my way.”

“He was transfixed at the sight of the lords and ladies of his realm running about like demented chickens.”

“The mercenary finished his coffee in a single gulp, It must have been piping hot, too. Boy, he was tough.”

“Despite his crimped shirts and flowing mane (or perhaps because of them) I had seen no evidence as yet that Nathaniel even knew what a girl was. If he'd ever met one, chances are they'd both have run screaming in opposite directions.”