Work Text:
There is this thing about the universe. As much as some people like to claim it is an uncaring void that has no interest in the insignificant, fleeting lives of mortals? It wasn’t. The universe is a 14-year-old fan girl.
It falls over itself for romance and tragedy. It lives for drama and coincidence cascades: overlapping coincidences that lead to strange events. A five-year-old with a nasty bout of stomach flu, a song half remembered. A glasses case casually forgotten in the back seat.
The universe also had a bit of a mean streak. We’ve all heard the phrase “Do not tempt fate.” Few people know the second part of that sentence “Because she has NO self-control!”. So if say, someone runs around declaring they are practically invincible, that they have overcome the weaknesses inherent in their being. The universe tends to take offence. And then correct that in the most comedic way possible.
Which is how Faquarl learned that just because Iron didn’t burn him, didn’t mean it couldn’t be very dangerous.
___
It was a testament to the craftsmanship of the car[1] that Nathaniel could craft a list of “People I am very mad at, and who I will be shouting at.”
Joanna was pretty securely on that list. There would be words, at length, about her driving. Next was Bartimaeus. He was supposed to be watching the car, but decided that picking a fight with Joanna about the air freshener was more important than doing his job.
Which lead to person three. Whoever sent that imp that sabotaged the break lines. He would wreak bloody, bloody vengeance when he discovered who was behind this assassination attempt.
The drive back from St. James Park after one of the PM’s little “theater in the park” events[2] had been practically mundane. Joanna and Bartimaeus had resumed their ongoing argument about the air freshener.
“It stinks. It makes my skin crawl. I can feel my noise burning.” The djinn sprawled in the other back seat had been whining.
“Take it up with the owner of the car next to you. Like I said when you got me that ticket. I hate it too.” Joanna had shot back, before jerking the wheel hard to make a hard 90* turn.
For some reason, Nathaniel allowed himself to be dragged into the bickering. “You’ve never had a problem ignoring my wishes about the car before Jo. I don’t see why the air freshener is where you would choose to actually acquiesce.”
Joanna spluttered something, but Nathaniel had honestly tuned the argument back out to focus. The report he was trying to read had been given to him by Farrar. It was a new lead in the continued manhunt for Hopkins.
Nathaniel still wasn’t sure exactly how he had gotten credit for disrupting Makepeace’s plan when it had been Joanna who had pulled the fire extinguisher[3]. However, in the decidedly fuzzy aftermath, most of Makepeace’s pack of traitors had been rounded up. The only one missing was Hopkins[4]: Trying to peg anything down about that enigma was like smoke.
As he read through her report[5], Nathaniel couldn’t help but think of the highly disturbing report Bartimaeus had given him when he had summoned the djinn.
Reeking of sour clam chowder, and so weak he could barely take the form of a slime pyramid, the djinn had recounted a tale that had not only brought to mind that disconcerting day in Makepeace’s study, but brought forth half-forgotten memories of Joanna telling scary stories of the walking dead[6].
As he’d been shaking his head to dispel that image, Joanna slammed on the brakes. But, they didn’t jerk to a halt. There was a horrible screeching, but the car didn’t stop.
To her credit, Joanna was not the type to panic in emergencies. She went cold. She didn’t release the breaks, instead she kept her foot flat, and applied the parking break as slow as she realistically could.
The parking break worked - sorta. They skidded to the edge of the road, going far slower than before, but not quite slow enough. In a last move, Joanna pulled the wheel hard spinning them horizontal to the edge of the road.
They skidded over the curb: rolling wheels over roof. The numerous safety features Joanna had insisted on fired. While Nathaniel was battered around in the car as it flipped over and over, the numerous airbags, and his undervalued seatbelt had reduced the force considerably.
After what felt like an eternity, the car rolled to a stop upside down. A snarl from the front seat told him Joanna was alive[7].
“What The Heck, happened to my breaks. I checked them this morning.”
Upfront[8], Joanna was carefully unbuckling herself and with a few good shoves, forced her door open and crawled out. Everything hurt – and Bartimaeus’s less then gentle extraction of him from the back seat made it all worse.
The squeaking noise that left his mouth when the djinn pulled on his wrist was drowned out by Joanna’s relieved exclamation of “Oh thank god. We don’t have a fuel leak.” Which was quickly followed by a noise of outrage and “Someone messed with my break lines.”
“Also, I think Natty’s wrist might be broken.” Bartimaeus’s cheerful tone was at contrast with the pain pulsing from the joint.
Joanna forgot all about the car, and practically teleported next to them. Tenderly, she took his hand and examined it. She was blubbering something about doctor’s visits, and it didn’t look that bad, so maybe it’s just a sprain.
As she softly pulled his jacket off, gently wrapping his wrist in the fabric, Nathaniel looked at the destruction behind them.
The car had left a 30-foot trail of scared ground and torn grass from the rode to the place it had finally skidded to a stop. before coming to an unwieldly stop. They stopped, but not before skidding through the crosswalk, and – more importantly- the pedestrian that Joanna had definitively not been playing chicken with.
Nathaniel was sure that there should have been more blood. A drably dressed man with brown mousy hair lay flat on his back in the crosswalk. He could be staring at the clouds. He wasn’t.
“Hold up.” Bartimaeus said, the almond shaped eyes of the Egyptian boy whose form he habitually took narrowed, “I think that’s Faquarl.”
___
After taking over the magician known as Hopkin’s body, Faquarl had felt invincible. No longer was he bothered by the scourge of Earth’s oppressive aura. No longer did silver and iron burn cold. Even spices like rosemary did little to bother him. Finally, his long ephemeral plans of rebellion and change could be realized.
Then that idiot human Makepeace failed to capture the government, because of a freak accident with the fire suppression system. Faquarl had managed to escape, and relying on his inhabited body’s seemingly natural glamour, had laid low and tried to begin planning anew.
Still, Faquarl was invincible. He was now immune to anything that could harm a Spirit. He had never even considered steel. Carbonized iron didn’t burn cold like elemental iron did.
It never occurred to Faquarl that, essentially becoming a physical being brought with it a whole new slew of weaknesses. Blunt force damage for example.
Then an almost 3 tons of steel collided with him: going well over 70 miles an hour.
Everything hurt. Faquarl had never been stuck on Earth for more than a year, but it felt something like that. Weren’t cars supposed to stop for pedestrians? Maybe his hosts natural glamour had backfired.
The noises from over by the car proved that at least some of the passengers had survived. But he couldn’t focus on the noises enough to tell more than that. He thought he felt a flair. Like a summoning in progress. But, everything hurt too much to concentrate on anything.
The pain slowly ebbed to the point that Faquarl felt like he could sit up. Slowly, joints creaking, muscles complaining he forced himself into a sitting position. Just in time to meet the combined forces from Ministers Mandrake[9], Whitwell and Farrar.
___
Remember what I said earlier about tempting fate?
[1] And certainly Joanna’s automotive handling. Nathaniel just wasn’t feeling very charitable right now.
[2] The revelation of the Playwright Makepeace as a traitorous conspirator had sadly done nothing to dampen his enthusiasm for theater.
[3] Hero magician however, does have a better ring then hero chauffeuse.
[4] While yes, they didn’t have the mercenary either, he at least had been spotted on the continent.
[5] Which contained a clearly false, and likely bias allegation of Joanna hitting her with a folding sign. Farrar was not always subtle in her dislike.
[6] She had been in proper form. Made them sit in the closet with only a flashlight for light. Their mother had been furious.
[7] Nathaniel wasn’t sure a normal car crash could do anything but annoy Bartimaeus.
[8] And still muttering murderously.
[9] Technically, the summonings had been performed by one Rebecca Piper. Mr. Mandrake was sitting in the emergency room, being fussed over by a dark haired woman as the doctor set his broken wrist.