To Nathaniel,

It's been a long time. Two hundred years, to be precise.

Things have changed a lot since your day. Spirits now get time off- at least one day a week, where we can choose to go home, or visit some corner of the world.

Kitty did that. She changed a lot of things, and London's a better place because of it. there's a new statue too, right next to Gladstone. It's of you, Natty boy. I'll bet that inflates your ego to the size of the damn sun.

But I'm not writing this for a one-sided, cosy little catch-up. No, not at all. I want to tell you what I think of you. Once and for all.

See, that night, when we fought Nouda, and I nearly died for you, you never let me say what I wanted to. You're dead now, so I doubt you'll read this, but it's the thought that counts.

First: I hate you, John Mandrake.

John Mandrake was the worst- or best, depending on your perspective- magician in London two hundred years ago. The worst from the perspective of his slaves, from my view. You were selfish, cruel, calculating and ruthless. Despite what you may think, those are bad qualities.

John Mandrake is not the name on the statue, however. Bet you didn't see that coming. I reckon it was our Kitty who pulled the strings to make that happen. Your name isn't John Mandrake. It's Nathaniel. I'd tell you to love with it… only, you can't. for that, I am truly sorry.

Second: I love you, Nathaniel.

I know, I know. Demons do not love humans, least of all magicians, and it's complicated, because none of them have before me. Ptolemy was the first. I loved him, and I would have died for him.

You never knew that at the end, I'd have died for you, too. I didn't love you because you were filthy rich and powerful beyond belief. I loved you because despite it all you knew right from wrong. If you'd survived, you would have lived happily ever after with Kitty, and I would have watched. It would have hurt, a lot, to see you in love with some human girl, but I would have put you before me. Now do you know how serious I am?

Before you dismissed me, that night, I wanted to tell you. I wanted to tell you that I love you. It wouldn't have changed anything, I know that. But I wish you could have known. I really, really wish you could have known.

I wish you could know that I'll be seeing you soon, too.

I'm dying, Natty boy. Not because of mistreatment like I suffered at your hands, but because I've not got the energy anymore. I'm too tired to live.

Goodbye, Nathaniel.

See you soon.

Sincerely, Bartimaeus.