{"product_id":"ptolemys-gate-the-bartimaeus-trilogy-book-3-078683868x","title":"Ptolemy's Gate (The Bartimaeus Trilogy, Book 3)","description":"\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eISBN:\u003c\/strong\u003e 078683868X\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eAuthor:\u003c\/strong\u003e Stroud, Jonathan\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eCondition:\u003c\/strong\u003e New\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAbout the AuthorJonathan Stroud (www.jonathanstroud.com) is the author of four previous books in the Lockwood \u0026amp; Co. series as well as the New York Times bestselling Bartimaeus books, and the stand-alone titles Heroes of the Valley, The Leap, The Last Siege, and Buried Fire. He lives in England with his wife and three children.Product DescriptionExcerpt.  Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.Ptolemy's GateBy Jonathan Stroud Miramax BooksCopyright 2007 Jonathan StroudAll right reserved.ISBN: 9780786838684Chapter OneTimes change.Once, long ago, I was second to none. I could whirl through the air on a wisp of cloud and churn up dust storms with my passing. I could slice through mountains, raise castles on pillars of glass, fell forests with a single breath. I carved temples from the sinews of the earth and led armies against the legions of the dead, so that the harpers of a dozen lands played music in my memory and the chroniclers of a dozen centuries scribbled down my exploits. Yes! I was Bartimaeus-cheetah quick, strong as a bull elephant, deadly as a striking krait!But that was then.And now ... well, right now I was lying in the middle of a midnight road, flat on my back and getting flatter. Why? Because on top of me was an upturned building. Its weight bore down. Muscles strained, tendons popped; try as I might, I could not push free.In principle there's nothing shameful about struggling when a building falls upon you. I've had such problems before; it's part of the job description. But it does help if the edifice in question is glamorous and large. And in this case, the fearsome construction that had been ripped from its foundations and hurled upon me from a great height was neither big nor sumptuous. It wasn't a temple wall or a granite obelisk. It wasn't the marbled roof of an emperor's palace.No. The object that was pinning me haplessly to the ground, like a butterfly on a collector's tray, was of twentieth-century origin and of very specific function.Oh, all right, it was a public lavatory. Quite sizable, mind, but even so. I was glad no harpers or chroniclers happened to be passing.In mitigation, I must report that the lavatory in question had concrete walls and a very thick iron roof, the cruel aura of which helped weaken my already feeble limbs. And there were doubtless various pipes and cisterns and desperately heavy taps inside, all adding to the total mass. But it was still a pretty poor show for a djinni of my stature to be squashed by it. In fact, the abject humiliation bothered me more than the crushing weight.All around me the water from the snapped and broken pipework trickled away mournfully into the gutters. Only my head projected free of one of the concrete walls; my body was entirely trapped.So much for the negatives. The good side was that I was unable to rejoin the battle that was taking place up and down the suburban street.It was a fairly low-key sort of battle, especially on the first plane. Nothing much could be seen. The house lights were all out, the electric street lamps had been tied in knots; the road was dark as an inkstone, a solid slab of black. A few stars shone coldly overhead. Once or twice indistinct blue-green lights appeared and faded, like explosions far off underwater.Things hotted up on the second plane, where two rival flocks of birds could be seen wheeling and swooping at each other, buffeting savagely with wings, beaks, claws, and tails. Such loutish behavior would have been reprehensible among seagulls or other down-market fowl; the fact that these were eagles made it all the more shocking.On the higher planes the bird guises were discarded altogether, and the true shapes of the fighting djinn came into focus. Seen from this perspective, the night sky was veritably awash with rushing forms, contorted shapes, and sinister activity.Fair play was entirely disregarded. I saw one spiked knee go crunching into an opponent's belly, sending him spinn\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cul\u003e\u003cli\u003eGreat narrative on historic character\u003c\/li\u003e\u003c\/ul\u003e","brand":"Mia Karts","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":51892348027168,"sku":"NEW078683868X","price":9.47,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0980\/7426\/3840\/files\/81mt8qBkLzL.jpg?v=1781984857","url":"https:\/\/miakarts.com\/products\/ptolemys-gate-the-bartimaeus-trilogy-book-3-078683868x","provider":"Miakarts Books","version":"1.0","type":"link"}