Jinx (19 page)

“I’m not a tree,” said Jinx. He was quite sure he was completely human. He did not, for example, have leaves.

“There’s more of you underground than you think, chipmunk.”

“How come I can still do
magic
magic? Like, spells?”

“Can you?” Dame Glammer grinned. “Show me.”

Jinx tried to levitate the spoon out of his soup. It was nowhere near as easy as the ladle in Gooseberry Clearing. The spoon gave a feeble wriggle but didn’t rise.

“Hope you’re not relying on that magic to keep you alive in the Urwald, chipmunk.” Dame Glammer grinned. “If it’s deathforce magic Simon did on you, then I reckon you have to ask the expert.”

“You said it wasn’t deathforce magic,” said Elfwyn.

“No, she didn’t,” said Jinx, who was used to this sort of magicianly double-talk. “You mean I have to ask the Bonemaster, don’t you?”

“You should stay away from the Bonemaster,” said Dame Glammer. “Didn’t Simon tell you that?”

“Yes,” said Jinx. “He did.”

“I expect the Bonemaster could tell you a few things about Simon.”

Late that night, after Jinx and Reven had gone to bed in the loft, Jinx woke to hear Elfwyn and Dame Glammer talking at the kitchen table.

“How did you get that nasty spell put on you, chickabiddy?” Dame Glammer murmured. “Was it a christening type of situation? Bad fairy?”

“Yes,” said Elfwyn. “The thirteenth fairy.”

“Your mother is such a fool.”

“I wish you wouldn’t call my mother a fool, please, Grandma.”

“You think I
like
calling her a fool? She’s my own daughter, after all. But she trained as a witch, she should know better—christenings? Fairies? Bah.”

“Do you think a wizard could take it off of me, like you told Reven?”

Jinx inched to the edge of the loft so that he could peer down and see Dame Glammer’s expression. In the dying firelight the wrinkles in her face cast deep shadows, which made her look more evil than she had earlier.

“Why on earth would you want it taken off you?”

“Because it’s horrible!” said Elfwyn.

“Oh, you just haven’t learned to use it properly, dearie. No, I think you should stay away from the Bonemaster.” She flicked her eyes toward the loft. “Wizards are best left to boys. Girls belong with witches.”

“I’d really like to get rid of it,” said Elfwyn. “It’s an awful nuisance.”

“Perhaps something could be arranged,” said Dame Glammer. “I’m not saying it couldn’t. But don’t you think you might like to
be
a witch, dearie?”

“I don’t know,” said Elfwyn. “I just want to get rid of my curse.”

“You could have a real talent for witchery. I expect you do. Your mother did, but no, she had to go off and get married. Well, we won’t talk about it tonight, chickabiddy.” She looked directly at Jinx. “The walls have ears.”

The next morning after breakfast, Jinx showed Reven how to use an ax. He wanted to do it here, where there was deadwood to practice on, because Reven had shown a disconcerting tendency to take swings at living trees as they walked, though fortunately he had never connected.

Reven was not very good with an ax.

“I’m used to a sword,” he explained. “I’m quite capable with a sword. Would you like me to teach you?”

“No,” said Jinx. “Thanks.” He didn’t have a sword; neither did Reven. “What’s the spell you have on you?”

“Who says I have a spell on me?” Reven took a mighty swing at a log and missed.

“Dame Glammer did. And that other witch, Dame Esper, I guess. But you can’t say what it is, can you?”

“You have a spell on you too.”

“Yeah.”

“And Elfwyn has one too,” Reven added.

Jinx was grateful for the change of subject. They could talk about Elfwyn; she wasn’t there.

“Wonder what hers is,” said Reven.

Jinx shrugged. “She sort of tells people what she thinks of them a lot.”

Reven tilted his head to one side as if weighing this, then shook his head. “That’s not much of a curse.”

Jinx had to agree that it wasn’t. “Only for the people that are being told. Not for her. And she blabbed about my business to those people in Gooseberry Clearing.”

“Well, that’s just girls,” said Reven.

Jinx didn’t know if this was true, but Reven probably knew a lot more about girls than Jinx did.

“So what is deathforce magic?” Reven asked.

“It’s, um, magic that requires a life.”

“You mean like a human sacrifice?”

“I guess,” said Jinx.

“And Simon did that to you? He, what, killed somebody?”

“Of course not,” said Jinx.

“Well, then how—”

“I don’t
know
how!” said Jinx. “It’s just what Dame Glammer says. I don’t have to believe her.” And Sophie, he thought. Sophie’d said it too.

Reven raised the ax and let it fall slowly on a log, managing to hit it this time and making a little dent. “Is that why you left? Because of the spell?”

“Sort of. I just got mad,” said Jinx. It had mostly been about the spell. But partly he’d wanted to go out and see the world.

“Oh. I know about getting mad,” said Reven feelingly.

“But you got banished, right?”

“Well, yes, but I was pretty mad, too.”

Jinx wanted to ask if King Rufus had really killed Reven’s stepmother, but he didn’t. He was trying hard not to be not-nice, even though Elfwyn wasn’t there to disapprove. And probably it
was
true. It wasn’t the sort of thing people joked about, was it?

“What about going and finding this Bonemaster, then?” said Reven.

“He’s evil.”

“Well, yes, but do you think we could get him to—do what the good Dame mentioned?”

“What, take your curse off you? He’d want something in return,” said Jinx.

“What?”

“I don’t know. They say he drinks people’s souls through a straw.”

“Oh. Well. Hm. Is it true?”

“Probably. Everyone’s afraid of him. He lives in a house made of bones.”

“How can a house be made of bones?”

“How should I know? But his is. He sucks the marrow out of his enemies’ bones and then stacks them up crisscross.”

“Well, we could at least go and ask him, couldn’t we? There’s no harm in asking.”

“Did you hear what I just said? The Urwald’s not a game, you know. Horrible things happen here. Anyway, Simon told me to stay away from him.”

“The same Simon that put the deathforce spell on you.”

“Well, yeah, but … Simon’s never actually hurt me.”

“The spell didn’t hurt?” Reven threw the ax up in the air. Jinx jumped out of the way as it came spinning down, and Reven caught it neatly by the handle.

“How did you do that?” said Jinx.

Reven shrugged. “Catching things is easy. You just have to be where they are when they land. You know where the Bonemaster lives?”

“Not exactly,” said Jinx. “But I know Simon’s gone and fought him and nearly got burned up.” He remembered Simon coming home with a burn on his face and Bonemaster-shaped thoughts.

“You think that witch would tell us how to find his house?” said Reven.

“Oh yes,” said Jinx. “She likes to make trouble for people.”

“She said the Bonemaster might be able to tell you how to get rid of the curse Simon put on you.”

“Maybe he can,” said Jinx. “But why would he?”

“Well, is he a friend of the wizard Simon?”

“No,” said Jinx, remembering the Bonemaster’s and Simon’s meeting on the path. “More like a deadly enemy.”

“Then mayhap he would take the spell off you for precisely that reason. I think we should go there and ask him. Agreed?”

“No!” said Jinx. “He’s—look, have you even been listening to me? I could see his thoughts. They were all these pink evil clouds with bloody knives flicking around inside them.”

This did not help. Reven looked at Jinx like he was crazy.

“Can you see my thoughts?” said Reven very gently.

“No. That’s the magic Simon took away.”

“So don’t you think the Bonemaster could give it back?”

Jinx hesitated. The Bonemaster probably was much more powerful than Simon.

Dame Glammer had said so; Simon had practically said so himself. What was it he’d said?
Anyone could have power if they were willing to do the things
he’s
willing to do
.

“Maybe he could,” Jinx said. “But it would be really, really dangerous just going to ask him. He’d suck out our souls and our blood and stack up our bones.”

“You’re afraid?”

Jinx looked at Reven’s rather superior smile and was annoyed. Who was it who had bested Bergthold-the-troll, anyway?

“Of course not!”

“Good!” Reven slapped him on the back. “Faint heart never won fair lady!”

“Dead heart never won fair lady either,” said Jinx.

“I don’t think you should go,” said Elfwyn.

Jinx was putting his pack together, tying his blanket in place. “Yeah, I don’t either, but—”

He looked at Reven, who was over by the woodpile practicing. He’d gotten to where he could split a log if he could hit it.

“You’re going just to protect him? That’s sweet,” said Elfwyn.

Sweet. Yuck. Still, it was better than not-nice.

“I have to go,” said Jinx. “So I can find out what’s wrong with me.”

“But the Bonemaster’s evil.”

“I know that,” said Jinx. “But he can tell me what Simon’s done to me. I mean, he’d know if anybody would, right? He’s the expert.”

“But the Bonemaster sucks people’s souls out with a straw.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“He sucks the marrow from people’s bones and stacks them crisscross.”

“I know.”

“He pries people’s eyeballs out and strings them to make necklaces.”

“He what?”

“You ought to stay away from him,” said Elfwyn.

“We’re not going the whole way,” he said. “Just close enough to—you know, look and see, sort of.”

“Look and see what?” said Elfwyn.

“Whether we can talk to him. Make some kind of deal. You know, like, I don’t know, send in a letter or something.”

The door creaked open behind Jinx. “Simon wouldn’t want you going, chipmunk.”

“We’re not going the whole way,” Jinx repeated.

Dame Glammer’s eyes glowed orange at him and he felt nervous. He went over to get Reven and tell him it was time to go. They said good-bye to Elfwyn and Dame Glammer and went down the path and across the two-logged bridge.

T
hey went north, following Dame Glammer’s directions.

Jinx hadn’t exactly forgotten about the Terror. But Dame Glammer had been quite enough of a terror herself to keep his mind occupied, thank you. Now he thought about it again.

“I need to listen to the trees,” said Jinx. “I want to know where the Terror is.”

“I thought we left it behind, way back there.” Reven gestured vaguely to the east.

“Yes, but it can move, same as us.”

Jinx took off his boots and his socks and stepped off the path. He burrowed into the ground with his toes. He listened. He expected the Terror would have moved even farther to the east.

The trees set him straight. The Terror was right here.

Jinx’s eyes flew open. Reven was standing with the ax handle balanced on his foot, stroking the edge of the blade with his thumb.

He smiled at Jinx. “What’s the matter?”

Jinx didn’t know what to say. He dusted his feet off and put his socks on. He put on his boots and tied double knots.

“The Terror’s right here,” he said at last.

“Oh. Then we’d better get moving, hadn’t we?”

Yes, except that wherever we move to, the Terror will be there with us
. “How about if I carry the ax for a while?”

“Sure, if you want.” Reven handed it over. His face was completely open and friendly.

They walked on. Jinx remembered how he’d sensed the trees’ fear days before he’d left Simon’s house. Days before he’d gone to Samara, even. Probably right around the time Reven had entered the Urwald.

Jinx wished like anything that he still had his magic now. If only he could see the color and shape of Reven’s thoughts, he could guess what kind of danger Reven was—or his curse was.

“Do you think your curse could make you hurt someone else?” Jinx asked at last.

“Is that something the trees told you?”

“No.” If only he knew what Reven was thinking!

“You think this Terror thing has something to do with—with my little problem, don’t you?”

He can’t even say “my curse.”
Jinx moved a little away from Reven and, cautiously, nodded.