Jinx (13 page)

“You answer my questions, and I may answer yours. How did you get to Samara?”

Jinx was reminded that he had once been able to actually see the iron behind Sophie’s niceness. “I found the door. Knowledge is power.”

“I see. Simon didn’t tell you how to get there?”

“No, I found the book that tells how.”

“And what did you do in Samara? Where did you go?”

Jinx told her. He remembered the noise and chatter. He would’ve liked to talk to some of those people in the streets. They were all so unlike Urwald people, so much quicker and less frightened.

“And Simon came straight to the University? He didn’t go anywhere else?”

“No,” said Jinx. Actually, he realized, he didn’t know. “What is Knowledge Is Power? Is it a kind of magic?”

“KnIP is Samaran magic.”

Kanip? Oh … Knowledge Is Power. “But they don’t do it at that temple place, do they?” It hadn’t felt magical at all.

“No, of course not. Magic is no longer permitted in Samara.”

“Is that why those guards chased Simon?” Jinx asked.

Sophie nodded.

“But why is it not permitted?”

“Because of the things people use magic for, of course. Wizards control people. They care more about power than about people. To them, people are just a way to get more power.” Sophie said this with considerable vigor, and Jinx could tell she really believed it.

“We study magic in theory at the University,” she said. “Magic among many other things. But to actually
do
it—that’s against the law. The penalty is death.”

“But you do it when you come through the door into the Urwald,” Jinx said.

“I certainly don’t. I simply come through the door. It’s not my fault that the door happens to be magic.”

“You have to use magic to work it,” said Jinx.

“The KnIP spell was done when the door was created,” said Sophie. “Now it’s just a door.”

Jinx was sure she was wrong about this. But the tired look on Sophie’s face stopped him from arguing.

“There are still magicians in Samara,” Sophie added. “People who do KnIP. But they’re criminals. Every now and then the government catches one and makes an example of him. Or her.”

Jinx would have liked to ask what they did to the magicians, but he looked at Sophie and decided that wouldn’t be a good idea.

“Magic corrupts people,” said Sophie. “Look what it’s done to Simon.”

“Wasn’t he always sort of like that, though?” said Jinx.

Sophie looked surprised. “Like what?”

Jinx couldn’t think how to answer this. “So you’re one of those people at that temple place? One of the scholars?”

“Yes. I’m a professor of Urwald Studies.” She smiled. “I’d studied Urwish for years, but until Simon came along, I’d never met anyone who actually spoke it.”

She got to her feet. “I’d better go check on him.”

“But you’re not like them,” said Jinx.

Sophie looked surprised. “Not like who?”

“Those scholars, all sitting inside and studying their books and not really wanting to
know
anything.” He picked up the candle and followed her out.

“They’re not all like that. They do want to know things, it’s just that it’s …” She turned and looked at the wall that hid Samara. The candle made a yellow circle of light on it. “I don’t want you to go back there, Jinx. Promise me.”

“It’s just that it’s what?” said Jinx. “What were you going to say?”

“It’s hard to learn anything when you already know everything.” Sophie smiled. “That’s the problem with the scholars. Some of them.”

“Oh,” said Jinx. He turned to go into the kitchen, but Sophie caught his arm. “You didn’t promise.”

Jinx wanted to ask why he had to promise. But she was looking at him so hard that he found all he could say was “Yeah.”

“Say it, please,” said Sophie, with iron.

“I promise,” said Jinx. And then, seeing that this still wasn’t good enough, “That I won’t go back into Samara.”

It was like a door slamming shut on the wide world. He followed her into the kitchen, feeling trapped.

Simon was still alive. Seeing him unconscious on top of the cold stove gave Jinx a funny feeling in his stomach, as if the world had been turned upside down. What if Simon died?

“I’ll sit up with him,” said Sophie. “You’d better go to bed.”

Jinx thought he ought to offer to sit up instead. But what if Simon started bleeding again? Or stopped breathing? Jinx wouldn’t know what to do. So he went up to his room, the one he never slept in, and sat down on the bed. A puff of dust rose from it. The stone walls reminded him of a tomb. Simon would die someday, even if it wasn’t today. Everybody dies. That’s the most unfair thing in the world.
Jinx
would die someday. The thought made him stand up and leave the room.

He climbed up the winding stone steps to the Farseeing Window. The sky was getting light already. The view from the window sailed through a tangle of tree branches. Jinx saw a wolf skulking along the ground beneath.

The thing was, he didn’t hate Simon. He couldn’t even really stay angry at him. He’d meant to, but Simon was … well, always there. It was hard to stay angry at someone who was always there. The truth was, he was actually sort of fond of Simon.

Jinx imagined life without Simon. Would he be allowed to stay in Simon’s house? But he wouldn’t want to stay here, alone with the cats. And he didn’t think Sophie would come here to stay with him. Would she take Jinx back to Samara? Jinx wanted to see more of Samara, he really did. He was angry at Sophie for making him promise he wouldn’t try to go back. But to live there, with the hot sun and no proper trees? And, face it, no magic?

The scene in the Farseeing Window shifted to a party of trolls, running along a wide path. The Troll-way—Jinx had heard Wanderers mention it. It led up into the Glass Mountains. Jinx had never seen mountains. There was a lot in the Urwald that he’d never seen. Well, if he couldn’t go back to Samara, at least he could see more of the world.

And maybe somewhere out there, there was a way to find out what Simon had done to him, what he’d taken away from him. What Dame Glammer had called mind-reading and deep Urwald magic.

Somehow there must be a way to get it back. And if anyone besides Simon would know it, Jinx realized, it would probably be Dame Glammer. After all, Dame Glammer had sold Simon the roots.

The scene moved again. Now it showed a girl walking along the Path. Jinx leaned forward. It was his girl, the one in the red cape and hood. She had a basket over her arm and a pack on her back. She was starting out on a journey. Jinx could tell from the way she walked that she was more excited than she was scared—that she couldn’t wait to discover the things that lay ahead of her.

“I wish I could be walking in the Urwald with nothing to hold me back,” said Jinx.

“You can if you want to,” said the girl, in his head.

And he realized she was right.

S
imon was alive, awake, and querulous. Jinx had scrubbed all the blood off the floor. He tried to stay out of the kitchen because Simon was making it seem a lot smaller these days. He went out into the Urwald, dug his toes into the ground, and listened.

The thing the trees were afraid of was much closer than it had been. Jinx tried thinking a question—What is it? Is it the Bonemaster? But the trees didn’t answer.

He went inside. Sophie was sitting on the stove, not too close to Simon. They were surrounded by books. One book was open to a drawing of what your insides looked like after a sword was stuck into them.

“I ought to go back to Samara,” she said.

“Please don’t,” said Simon.

Jinx hoped she wouldn’t. He was planning to leave, not stay here taking care of Simon.

“They’ll notice I’m missing, and how will that look?”

“What do you care how it looks?” said Simon.

Jinx looked at them looking at each other. Before the bottle spell, he would have known exactly how they felt. Now he didn’t, and it looked like they didn’t either.

“Let me put these books away,” said Sophie. She gathered them up and went down the hall and through the wall into the hidden part of the house.

Jinx went over to the stove. Simon was lying just about at Jinx’s eye level.

“You should tell her you’re sorry,” said Jinx.

“Thank you for your so helpful advice,” said Simon. “I’ve told her six times. You should tell
me
you’re sorry.”

“For what?” Jinx had put up with too much to listen to this. In fact, he had had enough—enough of being told what to do and called an idiot and of having his magic taken away and
everything
. “I didn’t ask you to come after me! I wasn’t in any trouble till you came along.”

“Oh, you could have found your way back to my house, could you?”

“Probably! And who said I wanted to come back? I don’t have to live here! I don’t have to hang around here doing all your work for you and getting spells put on me.”

“I’m teaching you magic, which most people would give their eyeteeth to learn.”

“You took
away
my magic! And that was a lot worse than taking my eyeteeth, whatever they are. You took it away and didn’t even ask me!” Jinx flung away from the stove and began walking around in rapid circles. His insides were itchy with anger and he couldn’t stay still.

“Hush! I didn’t take your magic. And don’t tell Sophie that.”

“Don’t worry!” Jinx yelled. “That’s why you sent her away, because you knew she wouldn’t like it, and if I tell her now, then she’ll leave again and I’ll have to take care of you.”

“Tell her what?” Sophie came into the kitchen.

Jinx stared at her, trying to think what to say.

“Tell the truth, it saves time,” said Sophie.

“The boy is mad because I don’t pay him,” Simon said. “So I’ll pay him.”

“That’s not why I’m mad! That’s not what I want!” Jinx looked around for something to kick and decided on the stone wall of the stove. He hurt his foot and didn’t care. He started walking in circles again.

“What
do
you want then?” said Sophie. “You ought to pay him, Simon. I always said so. You can’t go buying people for a penny—”

“He didn’t buy me for a penny!” said Jinx. “He never gave anyone a penny for me. He
offered
Bergthold a penny and then he summoned trolls to come and get him.”

Sophie gave Simon a sharp frowning look. “So you did kill him.”

“I didn’t summon the trolls. The stepfather summoned them.”

“He couldn’t have!” said Jinx. “He didn’t know any magic!”

“Greedy, violent people attract trolls as naturally as blood attracts wolves. They smelled your stepfather, I assume.”

Jinx had never heard of that before. He wondered if it was true. You couldn’t trust Simon was the thing. Jinx went on walking in furious circles.

“Anyway, he’d taken you into the woods to abandon you, so let’s not shed too many tears,” said Simon.

“I wasn’t shedding tears! I just thought you should tell Sophie the truth.”

“Jinx, stop it. You’re making me dizzy,” said Sophie.

Jinx stopped pacing and stood with his arms folded, glaring at Simon.

“You’ve been under a lot of strain, Jinx,” said Sophie.

“
He’s
been under a lot of strain?” said Simon.

“Well I hope you don’t think you have!” said Sophie. “Because all you’ve had to do is lie there—”

“Trying not to die from being stabbed by the people you insist on working for even though they’ve sentenced me to death!” Simon heaved himself up into a sitting position and rocked unsteadily.

“It’s not my fault you broke our laws, is it? And I do have a job, you know!”

They were yelling. Their voices rang off the stone walls—the cats had all fled.

“I would have put you before any job, if it had been me!” Simon shouted. “Especially a job working for people who had sentenced you to death. But apparently not everyone thinks that way.”

“The court sentenced you. It had nothing to do with the Temple of Knowledge.”

“The Temple of Knowledge owns the courts and everything else in Samara. Bought and paid for, everything and everybody. Including you, it seems.”

“I don’t have to stay here and listen to this!” Sophie turned angrily toward the hallway that led to Samara.

“Yes, you do!” said Jinx, grabbing her arm. “Simon, stop making her mad!”

“I didn’t make her mad, you made her mad.”

“Jinx, let go of me.”

“You have to stay and take care of him.”

“I’m not sure he’s worth taking care of.”

“He was really sorry about the stuff he said to you that time,” said Jinx. “He stares at the wall all the time, all right? He didn’t want you to leave.”

“Jinx, I don’t think you know what you’re talking about,” said Sophie.

“I do. I saw it in his head, all right? I could tell what he was thinking.”