Jinx's Fire (23 page)

“Downstairs,” said Jinx. “She's fine. And this is Simon, you remember Simon? You must've married him at some point.”

Sophie looked at Simon. Simon looked at her. Jinx hadn't really thought about it, but if he had, he would have expected that they would cry out in delight and rush into
each other's arms. After all, they hadn't seen each other in three years.

Instead, there was this staring, and not a word or a smile. And their thoughts rippled with trepidation, and worry, and resentment.

And guilt. Jinx had no idea at first what the guilt was about, but then he remembered that Sophie had told Jinx to destroy the seal if he had to, and that Jinx had rescued Sophie from prison, instead of Simon doing it.

These feelings were knotted like cords, holding back the old silver-sweet stuff. The silver stuff glowed, as if it was trying to burn the cords away.

They both looked horribly dignified.

“I'm sorry you had to come here,” said Simon.

“Oh, are you?” said Sophie.

“To the Urwald, I mean,” said Simon.

“I'm sure you must be dreadfully sorry,” said Sophie tightly.

“I mean,” said Simon, “I know it's not what you wanted.”

Really, Jinx could have shaken both of them. “You're both thinking the same things, if that's any help,” he said.

They glared at him.

But the silver glow brightened anyway, and one of the cords holding it back snapped.

“What I wanted was to be with you,” said Sophie.

“Oh,” said Simon.

More cords snapped.

They smiled at each other tentatively.

Jinx got out of there before they could get any more embarrassing.

He went down to the kitchen and found leftovers—part of a roast chicken, some bread and cheese, and some sort of applesauce made of dried apples. There was no sugarplum syrup or cinnamon in it, and it was sour. Jinx wondered how long it would be before Simon was ready to start baking pies again.

He filled a plate and took it into the Bonemaster's laboratory, where he suspected he would find Elfwyn. He was right. She had a map spread on the workbench and was staring at it, leaning on her elbows. Heavy gray gloom enfolded her. Jinx pushed the plate at her.

“Oh—thank you.” She avoided the chicken, but took a piece of cheese and nibbled at it disconsolately. “Did Sophie and Simon find each other?”

“Yes,” said Jinx, assembling a chicken-and-cheese sandwich. He felt like he hadn't eaten in months. He probably hadn't. “Have you—I mean.” He nodded at the trapdoor under the sink, which led to the crypt where he, Elfwyn, and Sophie had fought the Bonemaster, the ghoul, and the skeletons.

“No,” said Elfwyn. “I don't exactly want to. Do you?”

“No.” The full horror of his battle with the Bonemaster hadn't really caught up with him yet. He wasn't ready to revisit the crypt. And he had no desire to see the skeletons again.

“The ghoul's not dead,” said Elfwyn. “It came back, but when it found out no one was going to pay it to patrol the island, it left.”

“Oh.” Jinx thought that was weird, but then he didn't know much about ghouls.

He looked up at the Bonemaster's collection of books. There were more than there'd been before—gifts to the Bonemaster from the Mistletoe Alliance. Well, the Urwald needed more books. It was too bad so few Urwalders could read them.

He looked at the extremely neat, extremely straight rows of bottles and jars that lined the shelves above. He felt suddenly sad at these signs of a carefully arranged life interrupted.

“He's got dried elf livers,” he said. “But elves don't
have
livers. I don't think they have any kind of . . . guts and stuff.”

“Elf liver is a type of mushroom,” said Elfwyn.

“Oh.” Jinx started to reach for the jar, and then wondered if he could do a summoning spell. He'd seen Elfwyn do it. He ought to be able to.

He raised his hand, and summoned the jar of elf livers. It leapt off the shelf and smashed on the stone floor.

“Oh well,” said Elfwyn. “Anyway, you can see they're just mushrooms.”

There was a broom in the corner, and a tin dustpan hanging neatly beside it. “How long . . .” Jinx began, as he swept up the fragments. “I mean, did anyone tell you . . . I mean—”

“How long we were gone?” Elfwyn knelt to hold the dustpan for him. “Three weeks. It's really weird; it feels like just a few hours to me. And it took you two months to come up through the floor, so neither of us had really heard any news in almost three months . . .”

“And now you've heard some,” said Jinx.

And she was going to tell him, and he could see that it was going to be bad.

“Let me show you what's happened.”

Elfwyn gathered up a handful of elf livers that Jinx had managed to rescue from amongst the broken glass.

“Reven's headquarters is right here.” She picked up the lid from the shattered elf-liver jar and set it down on the map, in the Storm Strip.

“That's his fort,” said Jinx. “Where he's got walls built out of logs and stuff.”

“Right,” said Elfwyn. “But his soldiers are here”—she dumped a little cluster of elf livers at the fort—“and
here”—the next cluster went near Butterwood Clearing, and Jinx wished he'd had time to build a ward there. “And here”—by Blacksmiths' Clearing. “And here”—she dropped more elf livers for the soldiers that were guarding Simon's house—“and—”

“Wow,” said Jinx. “How many—er, he must have a lot.”

“Fewer than he did before, I think,” said Elfwyn. “Because there was a big battle with Bluetooth's men and it didn't go well. Reven had to retreat to the Storm Strip for a while, except for his men around Simon's house, because Bluetooth probably didn't know about them.”

She summoned a red bottle from a high shelf, and shook something like black marbles out onto the map.

“What are—”

“Nixies' eyeballs,” said Elfwyn. “These are King Rufus's men. Some of them are here—drat!”

Jinx cupped his hands to catch King Rufus's men as they rolled off the workbench. “Maybe you should use something else.”

A jar of tiny, luminescent snail shells drifted down from the top shelf. Jinx watched carefully—he really wanted to learn the summoning spell.

“All right,
these
are King Rufus's men,” said Elfwyn.

“Have— I wonder if they've been setting more fires.”

“Not that I've heard of,” said Elfwyn. “But I haven't
asked the wizards. They'd know. Anyway, King Rufus of Bragwood's men are right here, and along here. And King Bluetooth—”

“The king of Keyland that Reven's trying to overthrow.” Jinx could see the bad news that Elfwyn was holding on to, like a large blue-gray bubble, and he wished she'd hurry up and tell it.

“—is here. Do you see what's going on?”

“No,” said Jinx.

“King Rufus of Bragwood is positioned so that he can switch sides at a moment's notice. Right now, he's allied with Reven. But if Reven looks like losing, King Rufus will go over to Bluetooth, and they'll finish Reven like
that.
”

“Oh,” said Jinx. “That must be what you're so upset about.”

“Doesn't it bother you?”

Jinx shrugged. “I guess.” He supposed he didn't really want Reven to be killed, but he also didn't want Reven invading the Urwald.

“I don't think that's what you're upset about, though,” he added.

He watched her eyes. Her gaze slid from the Storm Strip to the Edgeland, from the Edgeland to Keyland, from Keyland to her home clearing, Butterwood.

“Butterwood Clearing,” he said, carefully not making it a question.

Elfwyn took a deep breath. “A party of Butterwooders were coming back from selling cheese to Reven's troops. And they were captured. It's not clear who captured them. But whoever it was”—she took another deep breath—“murdered them all and left them in the forest.”

There was a long, heavy, blue silence.

“Oh,” said Jinx.

He was dreading the next part.

“And—and what I heard was—what I heard was that my mother was one of them,” said Elfwyn, all in a rush.

She looked down at the map and at the piles of dried mushrooms and gently glowing snail shells. Her thoughts were a rolling mass of blue clouds, like a storm blowing in.

Jinx patted her on the shoulder, awkwardly. He knew she hadn't gotten along with her mother at all, but he was aware that now wasn't a good time to mention that. He remembered Berga coming with her husband and baby to Simon's house, and he wished he had been a little more welcoming.

“There were eight of them,” said Elfwyn. “Eight Butterwooders. And it could have been King Bluetooth who did it, because they passed near his camp.” She traced a line on the map with her finger. “And it could have been King Rufus, because he's called Rufus the Ruthless.”

She opened her mouth as if to say something, then closed it again.

“And it could have been Reven,” said Jinx.

“No,” said Elfwyn.

“I'll find out,” said Jinx grimly.

“That's not even—” Elfwyn spread her hand over the map. “It's not just that. You see how it is?”

“Yes. There are three enemy armies inside the Urwald,” said Jinx.

“And any one of them outnumbers us,” said Elfwyn.

Jinx could tell Elfwyn wanted to be left alone. He wandered outside. There was still the line of butter churns beside the steps. A fierce-looking little girl was standing in one of them, up to her armpits, thrusting ineffectually at the ground with a stick.

“I don't think you're going to get anywhere,” said Jinx, amused. “You need a smaller churn.”

“I know what I'm doing,” said the girl. “You don't. Boys can't churn.
I'm
a witch.”

The girl did have magic, Jinx sensed. Pretty strong magic, of an unformed, witchy kind. “An apprentice witch, maybe,” he suggested. “Whose apprentice are you?”

“Dame Esper's,” said the girl. “She's a very mighty, powerful, superb witch and I'm going to be even better.”

She made another thrust at the ground, and dropped her stick. She reached for it, swarming up out of the churn, which started to tip over. Jinx grabbed it and righted it.

“Give me my stick, please,” said the girl.

Jinx shook his head. “You're going to hurt yourself. Come on, get out of there.” He tried to pick her up. She ducked down into the churn.

“I know who you are,” said the girl, peering over the rim. “You're Jinx. You have tons of power but you're not a wizard, and you never will be. You can see feelings better than the trolls can, and sense magic better than werewolves and ogres can, but you're not one of them either. Dame Glammer said.”

Jinx wasn't going to argue with the kid about his wizardly prospects. “Trolls can see feelings?”

“Yup. It's deep Urwald magic. Dame Glammer said. Do you know Dame Glammer?”

“Yes,” said Jinx. “And if you don't get out of that butter churn now, I'm going to go and get her.”

The girl shot upright. “I don't believe you,” she said, and allowed Jinx to lift her out.

Elfwyn Tells the Truth

A
lot of the people from Simon's house had moved to Bonesocket. More refugees kept arriving at Simon's house, and Sophie was kept busy sorting them out. Simon was usually off somewhere directing the army. Jinx was relieved that Simon and Sophie seemed to be friends again—although they quarreled a lot.

It was also a relief that, in the midst of the war, Inga dropped all pink fluffy thoughts of Jinx and turned them on a refugee who arrived from Churnbottom Clearing. Jinx wondered if he should warn the Churnbottom guy about the pig muck. No, probably best to let things take their course. Anyway, Jinx had other things to worry about.

He went to Butterwood Clearing to set up a ward. But when he got there, he found the clearing swarming with Reven's soldiers. He left in a hurry, without making the ward.

It was four o'clock in the morning. Jinx stepped through the doorpath into Reven's fort in the Storm Strip. He carried a white flag, because Wendell had told him that was the thing to do in these situations. But just in case Reven didn't know that, he also put a strong ward around himself as soon as he arrived.

Nobody even noticed him at first. This was very annoying. Jinx flapped his white flag vigorously, making it snap.

A couple of bleary-eyed soldiers came over to him, swords raised.

“Woodrat,” said one. “Should we kill him?”

“No, it's the Werechipmunk. Take him prisoner.”

“I want to talk to the king,” said Jinx. “Don't you see this?” He flapped his flag again.

“A nightshirt?”

“You brought your nightshirt? We supply all that.”

“Right, King Raymond treats his prisoners like princes. Everybody wants to be taken prisoner by us.”

“It's a flag of truce,” said Jinx. “I want to talk to your king.”

“You're surrendering?”

“No,” said Jinx patiently. “I'm parleying.”

The guards looked at each other, confused. Then one of them made a lunge at Jinx. “Ouch! He's put up one of those invisible wall things.”

Jinx frowned at the soldier, who was sucking his bruised knuckles. “Go and get Rev—King Raymond, please.”

“I'm here,” said a voice from the shadows.

The soldiers instantly looked more alert, and stood up straighter.

“Good morning, Jinx,” said Reven. “If it is morning, forsooth. Have you come to surrender?”

“No, I've come to parley,” said Jinx. “Which means talk.”

“I know what it means.” Reven's eyes glinted in the darkness. “Are you asking for terms?”

“Terms for what? Surrender?” said Jinx. “No, but I might be offering them. It depends on how you answer a couple of important questions.”

The guards rumbled red and black anger that anyone would dare speak so disrespectfully to their king.

“I am not interested in your terms. However, you may ask your questions,” said Reven, regally.

“Not in front of your soldiers,” said Jinx.

Reven made a small motion with his head, and the soldiers backed away, burbling resentment, their hands on their sword hilts.

“Also,” said Jinx, “there's something I want to show you.”

“Very well,” said Reven.

“I need you to come with me.”

“Oh really?” said Reven. “Through your magic doorway, you mean? And what will I find at the other end?”

“A patch of burnt land,” said Jinx. “That's all.”

“You seem to expect me to trust you,” said Reven. “Whereas you've chosen to show up here surrounded by a magic ward.”

Good point. Jinx took the ward down. “Fine. It's gone. Now, will you come with me?”

Reven reached out and touched where the ward wasn't. He patted Jinx gently on the head, which Jinx didn't much care for.

“I want to show you what your ally King Rufus has done,” said Jinx. “Unless you're afraid.”

This had the effect that Jinx expected. “I'm not afraid.”

“Good,” said Jinx. “Then come on.” He grabbed Reven's sleeve, and pulled him into the Doorway.

It wasn't yet dawn, but it was just light enough that the trees stood out black against a deep-blue sky. Jinx and Reven crunched over the burnt ground, the smell of charcoal sharp in their nostrils. It made Jinx feel ill and irritable.

“So there was a fire here,” Reven observed.

“It was set by one of Rufus's soldiers,” said Jinx.

“Hm,” said Reven.

“This was the last of several,” said Jinx.

“And there's something you want me to do about it?”

“No,” said Jinx. “I only want to know whether it was your idea.”

“It was not. It seems very wasteful to me. There must have been good timber here.”

“Are you
trying
to annoy me?” said Jinx.

“Of course not,” said Reven. “That would be no kind of challenge at all. I'm simply pointing out the truth. The Urwald has to be cleared eventually. You must realize that.”

“I don't realize it,” said Jinx. “Sorry.”

“It can be done reasonably,” said Reven. “As I said before. Reservations can be set aside for you and your monsters. I mentioned that we might preserve an area of a hundred square miles. I could probably be more generous than that, provided—”

“Wait.” Jinx held up a hand to shush Reven. There were footsteps crunching over the charcoal behind them. He turned around. He could just make out Elfwyn's face in the slowly growing light.

Reven smiled. “Good morning, Lady Elfwyn. How surprising to find you here.”

Elfwyn gave him a curt nod. “Hello, Reven. Did you kill my mother?”

The calculating blue and green squares of Reven's thoughts turned to red, angry surprise. “What?”

“Did you?” said Elfwyn.

“I'm astonished that you could think such a thing of me, my lady.”

“You haven't answered me,” said Elfwyn.

“No,” said Reven coldly.

“I think he's telling the truth,” said Jinx. “At least as far as he knows it.”

The coldness was turned on Jinx. “At least as far as I know it? Am I supposed to have killed the good lady in my sleep?”

“Your men could have done it,” said Jinx.

“Somebody murdered eight people from Butterwood Clearing,” said Elfwyn. “As they were returning from taking butter and cheese to your camp.”

“I had heard of this,” said Reven. “I did not know that your mother was among them. I am sorry to hear it.” He bowed. “Please accept my condolences.”

Elfwyn waved his condolences aside angrily. “So you didn't know one of them was my mother. But did you have them killed?”

“An unarmed party of traders?” said Reven, going cold again. “No. Why would I?”

“Because you found out they were spies,” said Elfwyn.

“If that was to have been my reason, I would have
killed them months ago,” said Reven. “Since I always assumed they were spies.”

“Why did you let them into your camp if you thought they were spies?” said Jinx.

“Because we needed the goods they were selling, of course,” said Reven. “And also because it was to our advantage that you understand the superiority of our forces.”

“I think he's telling the truth about that, too,” Jinx told Elfwyn.

Elfwyn pursed her lips and nodded.

It occurred to Jinx suddenly that the last time the three of them had been together was when Jinx had turned Siegfried the Lumberjack into a tree.

Elfwyn turned to Reven. “Why don't you ask me about
our
forces?”

“Hey!” said Jinx. This wasn't what they had agreed to. At all.

Elfwyn smiled at him, then turned back to Reven. “Or whatever else you want to ask me,” she added coldly.

Reven looked from Elfwyn to Jinx, calculating, and then back at Elfwyn again. “I don't believe I have Jinx's permission to do so, my lady.”

“You don't need his permission,” said Elfwyn. “It's me you're asking. Go ahead. Ask.”

“Which clearings are defended by wards?”

“All those that have people living in them,” said
Elfwyn. “Except for Butterwood Clearing, which you've already captured.”

“And how many men do you have under arms?”

“About five hundred,” said Elfwyn.

“That's not very many,” said Reven.

“And four hundred women,” Elfwyn added. “You didn't ask. And about eighty big kids. And that's not counting a few thousand trolls and werewolves, of course, and the magicians.”

More like a few hundred. “You're telling him everything?” Jinx demanded.

“Yes,” said Elfwyn. “That was a question.”

“You told
him
he could ask—”

“Yes, but not you.”

Jinx subsided. He understood what she was doing. She was hiding lies in with the truth. But she could have discussed it with him first.

“Aren't the magicians men and women?” said Reven.

“Of course,” said Elfwyn. “But they're not armed, because they don't have to be. They're dangerous enough as it is. They can turn men to stone with a glance.”

Now that just wasn't true at all.

“And where is everyone?” Reven asked.

“Hey!” Jinx said, more loudly. “Enough's enough. Elfwyn, stop. You can't just tell him everything. I mean it. Seriously. Shut
up
!”

He was shouting, trying to drown out Elfwyn, who was telling Reven everything.

“Well, great,” said Jinx, when she had finished. “You're providing him with all the information he needs to completely wipe us out.”

“He can try,” said Elfwyn. “If he's that stupid. You notice he hasn't asked me the important questions.”

Silence greeted this, as both Jinx and Reven tried to figure out what these might be.

“What are the important questions?” Reven asked her.

“How much magical power we actually have,” said Elfwyn, “and what we can do to you with it.”

Reven looked thoughtful.

“We have more power than all the magicians in the world put together,” said Elfwyn.

“Then why haven't you used it yet?” said Reven.

“Because the results would be too terrible,” said Elfwyn.

“Forsooth, my lady,” said Reven. “You have been surprisingly generous with information. All I can tell you in return is that you are facing the united forces of my own army and that of King Rufus the Ruthless—”

“The guy who killed your stepmother,” said Jinx. “You sure can pick allies, can't you?” He felt an unpleasant twinge of guilt at the gray twist of pain that his words caused Reven. “Rufus is going to change sides as soon as he thinks it's convenient.”

“I doubt that he will find it convenient,” said Reven.

“If he does, then
you'll
be facing the combined forces of Rufus and Bluetooth,” said Elfwyn.

“And us,” Jinx added.

“Alas, Dame Fortune might leave me with no alternative,” said Reven.

“Here's an alternative,” said Jinx. “You could just leave, and let us deal with them.”

“And go where?” said Reven. “In Keyland, I'm a criminal. I've been banished from Bragwood. That leaves the Boreal Wastes, and I understand they're even colder than the Urwald. No, I'm quite happy where I am, thank you.”

Jinx felt an unwanted qualm. “You're invading the Urwald because you can't turn back? Look, if you need to get away, I can help you with that.”

Reven looked at him coldly. “Really? Myself and all my thousands of followers? I do not need to get away. Now, I have seen your burnt ground, and I have been accused of murder. . . . Was there anything else you wished to say to me?”

Jinx and Elfwyn looked at each other. They shook their heads.

“Then it seems only common courtesy,” said Reven, “for me to return the offer. Join forces with
me
, before Bluetooth and Rufus wipe
you
out.”

“Without you, we wouldn't even have them in the Urwald,” said Jinx.

Reven acknowledged this with a curt nod. He turned to Elfwyn. “Some of my men think that King Bluetooth was responsible for the murders.”

“Why?” said Elfwyn.

“To terrify the populace into submission, I suppose.”

“I thought King Rufus the Ruthless did things like that,” said Elfwyn.

“Most kings do such things,” said Reven. “Even, if you read your history, kings who are called ‘the Good.' King Bluetooth, you'll recall, murdered my father. Now, if you would be so kind as to show me the way back to my fort. . . .”

Elfwyn offered to do it, but Jinx managed to edge her out of the way. She looked quite nice, really, with the dawn light reflected on her hair. He was pretty sure he didn't look nice at all, at least not to Reven and his soldiers.

He delivered Reven at his fort, and then came right back to the scorched ground, because he had a feeling Elfwyn would be waiting for him there. She was.