Ptolemy sat on one of the many rooftops, staring at his hands. This whole day had been so confusing and surreal. He remembered dismissing Bartimaeus right before he... Died. He should be dead. Next thing he knew though, there was a searing pain all over his being and he was in a dark room with a young boy staring at him in amazement. Apparently he's been summoned. But that was impossible wasn't it? He sighed, running his hands through his hair. He had all the properties of djinn. Well, sort of. He could definitely tell that he was very weak. He had attempted to shift forms, as his old friend had done so easily many years ago, but it was very difficult. He had successfully pulled off the appearance of a cat, but then found it hard to switch back into his original form. He looked out over the alien city. What had the boy called it? London? He was about to go back inside when he saw something in the corner of his eye. What was that? Another spirit? He hoped so. Maybe they could explain what had happened to him. He jumped off the roof and landed not-so-gracefully in the alley where he thought he had seen the figure. "Hello?" He called. This new language sounded strange to him. How had he learned it anyways? His thought process was interrupted by a movement up ahead.