Jinx's Fire (4 page)

“Visiting,” said Helgur. His thoughts were boxed in and uncertain. He seemed to feel he'd given Jinx all the help he could, and was not sure whether he regretted it. So Jinx stood surrounded by sword points for what seemed like hours.

At last a tall man with bushy black eyebrows came striding up. “The king says, what's the boy's name?”

“Jinx,” said Jinx.

“The king said he'd see the boy if the boy's name was Jinx,” said Bushy Eyebrows.

In Reven's Fort

J
inx was hustled forward, still surrounded by sword points, which made for very uncomfortable walking. They came to a large square fort made of logs. A gate in the fort stood open, and Jinx and all the sword points went through.

Reven was sitting on the throne of branches Jinx had seen through the Farseeing Window. A double line of men with swords formed an avenue in front of him. Jinx was brought to the foot of the avenue and given a push.

“Kneel,” Bushy Eyebrows commanded.

“That's not necessary, Darnley,” said Reven.

“Kneel before King Raymond,” Darnley continued,
“who slew the wild ogre, and bested the mighty Bonemaster, and walked with wizards but lived to tell the tale!”

Several hands were pushing down on Jinx's shoulders, and he struggled to stay upright.

Reven stood. “Let go of him.”

The hands vanished.

Jinx wanted to say
Walked with wizards?!
But the words caught in his throat. He hadn't ever talked to a king before. Of course he'd talked to Reven, and even punched him a few times. But it was clear that if he were to try to punch the man standing at the other end of the avenue, Jinx would be dead before his fist connected. And although this person looked exactly like Reven, he also looked like a king.

He didn't have a crown, or velvet clothes, or any of that sort of kingly accoutrement. What he had was a manner.

“Um,” said Jinx.

“Welcome, Jinx.” Reven smiled. “It is good of you to visit us.”

“Am I allowed to come close enough to talk?” said Jinx. And to see your thoughts?

“Please approach.” Reven climbed back onto his throne.

Jinx walked down the avenue of soldiers to the foot of the throne. It was high enough that Jinx had to look up at Reven. Jinx gritted his teeth and told himself not to be awed by any of this pageantry. This was the Urwald. Kings didn't belong here.

Now he could see Reven's thoughts—blue and green squares of calculation, and a little flash of trepidation. Reven wasn't afraid of Jinx, was he? No. But he was slightly worried.

“What exactly do you think you're doing here?” said Jinx.

“Leading a rebellion against the usurper King Bluetooth of Keyland. You know that, Jinx.”

“And why are you doing that in the Urwald?”

“Because the Urwald provides convenient cover for my soldiers, of course, as we plan our next attack.”

“Convenient? You're a good fifty miles into the Urwald,” said Jinx.

“Excuse me, my lord king,” said a man standing beside the throne. “I don't much care for this boy's tone, hey.”

“I think it would be for me to object, Sir Thrip,” said Reven coldly. “If objection were necessary. It is not. Urwalders are as they are.”

“Sir Thrip?” Jinx stared. “You have Sir
Thrip
with you? Where's the other one? Badgersomething?”

“Lord Badgertoe fell nobly at the Battle of Edgeland,” said Reven. The soldiers in the avenue put their hands to their hearts and bowed their heads briefly.

“Badgertoe stuck me in the neck with a knife. And this guy”—Jinx nodded at Sir Thrip—“cut your face with a sword, remember?”

“There was some initial misunderstanding,” said Reven. “But—”

“You still have the scar,” said Jinx.

The king stood up. “I would fain speak to my friend alone,” he told his attendants.

He stepped down from the throne, and strode majestically down the avenue of soldiers. Jinx followed him.

Reven walked across the fort without saying anything. At the far side, out of earshot of his men, he sat down on a log and gestured for Jinx to do the same.

Jinx shook his head angrily.

“How is the lady Elfwyn?” said Reven.

And it really was Reven talking. Not the king. Jinx blinked.

“She's fine,” he lied.

“And the good wizard Simon?”

“Fine,” Jinx lied again. “Look, Reven—”

“And he knows you're here?”

“Of course,” said Jinx.

“We'd like cooperation,” said Reven. “We aren't here to make war on Urwalders.”

“If you're not making war on us, then why are you so far into the Urwald? And what about Blacksmiths' Clearing? And Witch Seymour's cottage?”

Reven frowned. “I visited the good witch two weeks ago. His cottage is fine.”

“No it's not,” said Jinx. “Because after you left, your soldiers ransacked the place and he had to run for his life.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yup,” said Jinx.

“That is not acceptable,” said Reven. “I told them to leave him alone. If he tells me who was responsible, I'll—”

“
You
were responsible,” said Jinx. “Because they're your soldiers. And that's not even the point, Reven. The point is that you shouldn't be in the Urwald.”

Reven sighed. He stood up, unsheathed his sword, and tossed it casually into the air. He caught the hilt with one finger, twirled it around his wrist several times, and then slid it back into the sheath. Jinx tried not to look as if he wished he could do that.

“I told you, good Jinx. I need to be here to stage my assault on King Bluetooth. Surely you can't approve of King Bluetooth. He makes magicians dance in red-hot iron shoes, you'll recall.”

“And now that you're here, he's likely to come into the Urwald looking for you.”

“That would be regrettable,” said Reven.

“And there have been six people killed in Blacksmiths' Clearing.”

“The Blacksmiths' Clearing people are armed,” said Reven. “And very reluctant to come to terms. We are leaving them alone for the nonce.”

“You're going to have to,” said Jinx, thinking of the ward he's put up. “So after you stage your assault or whatever on King Bluetooth, you'll leave?”

Reven's eyes gleamed. “No man can see the future.”

“He can have a pretty good idea of what he thinks he's going to do, though,” said Jinx. “I'll tell you what it looks like from my—from our point of view. From our point of view it looks like you're invading the free and independent nation of the Urwald. It looks like war. Against us.”

“‘The free and independent nation of the Urwald'?” Reven raised an eyebrow. “That's what you came up with? It's a bit unwieldy.”

Jinx waved that aside angrily. “We want the attacks on the eastern clearings to stop. If you attack them, you're fighting all of us.”

“Really? Have you discussed this with the people in Lady Elfwyn's clearing?” said Reven. “They seem willing to make terms.”

“Butterwood Clearing? What was Helgur doing here?”

“Arranging the sale of cheese and butter. The good folk of Butterwood Clearing have found it quite profitable to cooperate with us.” Reven smiled. The kingly manner was back. “Consider the facts, Jinx. The Urwald is undefendable. It's a vast expanse of land with a few thousand people at most. You're woefully unequipped to deflect an attack from even one side—and that, you understand, may
not be what you're facing.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“You may find yourself in a situation,” said Reven, “where my protection and assistance could be useful to you.”

Jinx made a very rude suggestion about Reven's protection and assistance.

“I can understand your feeling that way,” said Reven. “But—”

“There's more of us than you think,” said Jinx. “And I should tell you we have the werewolves on our side.”

“I'll bear it in mind,” said Reven. “It won't make much difference to us, as I doubt we would have found the werewolves particularly friendly to us anyway. But forsooth”—he looked around at the open expanse of the Storm Strip—“we find that monsters tend to stay away from treeless places. In times to come, there may be less space left for werewolves and their ilk.”

“What do you mean by that? Are you talking about cutting down trees?”

“You'll admit it would solve many problems,” said Reven. “Of course, I'm prepared to offer some concessions in return for your cooperation. An area where you and whatever people you're speaking for—and whatever werewolves—could continue to live in—well, I won't say harmony, because I'm familiar with the Urwald's ways. But
certainly I can see setting aside a reservation of ten miles square—”

“Are you out of your mind?” said Jinx. “You're talking about destroying the Urwald!”

“Preserving it,” said Reven.

“What you're talking about would kill most of the people in the Urwald. Which, incidentally, is millions of people, not thousands.”

Reven looked confused for a moment, and then smiled. “Is this your old notion that trees are people? They can't fight, Jinx.”

“You're forgetting that we can do magic,” said Jinx.

“I noticed something about your magic, while we were traveling together. It seemed to me to be very strong where trees were, and rather weak where trees weren't. And when I questioned the lady Elfwyn, she said that she'd noticed the same thing.”

“You shouldn't ask questions of Elfwyn,” said Jinx. “It's not nice.”

“Speaking of not nice.” Reven unbuttoned his belt pocket, and drew out something that glittered. He tossed it to Jinx. “Yours, I believe?”

Jinx caught the tiny golden bird in both hands—the aviot.

“My boot heel came off, and that was inside,” said Reven. “I kept it, in hopes it might bring you here. Of
course, I've been leaving it home whenever I went out to do anything that might upset you.”

Reven stood up, and nodded to some guards who were, Jinx realized, standing closer than he'd thought. The drawn sword must have been a signal. “I feel we both understand each other better as a result of this conversation, don't you?”

“Oh, much,” said Jinx sarcastically.

“Then let me have my guards escort you to your accommodations, and perhaps bring you some refreshment.”

“Thanks, but no,” said Jinx. “I'm leaving.”

The guards were quite close now, and there were a lot of them. They spread out, surrounding Jinx and Reven.

Uh oh. Jinx hadn't thought that Reven would try to harm him. Or, let's face it, kill him. Reven, in Jinx's experience, generally felt that he could find more useful things to do with people than kill them.

“Not leaving just yet, I think,” said Reven. “After all, you do have some people and werewolves at your command, and quite a bit of magical power when you're near trees. As you said, you could make things inconvenient for us.”

The soldiers had formed a square, several men deep, around Jinx and Reven.

“I can't have you running around loose,” said Reven. “And keeping you here is probably the best way to control Simon.”

“You don't think he'll attack you to get me back?” said Jinx.

“Not if he thinks you might be harmed.”

The fire inside Jinx wasn't enough. He could freeze the clothing of the guards in front of him—but not the ones behind him. The same went for setting their clothes on fire—he'd be killed before he could do any real damage. Reven was perfectly right—Jinx was too far away from the trees to use the Urwald's power.

Jinx could see the soldiers' different colored thoughts, and the red and gold worship of Reven—what was it with this king stuff, anyway? And he could see the woven golden wires of their knowledge. Oh, plenty of knowledge. More than enough.

But it was too far away to reach. To use it, Jinx would have to walk toward them. And their swords. And then use KnIP before those swords could get him.

He wasn't sure he could do KnIP that fast. Well, he was about to find out.

He ducked his head, charged at the guards, seized their knowledge, and
knew
as hard as he could that the hollow tree near Simon's clearing was right in front of him.

Someone grabbed his arm. He struggled, broke free, and fell forward into the gap that appeared before him.

From the sawdusty floor of the Doorway Oak, he looked back at the astonished faces of the soldiers and—just for a
second, before he got control of his royal expression—Reven, as they stared at the space where Jinx had disappeared.

Jinx laughed.

But a moment later something Reven had said sunk in.

You're woefully unequipped to deflect an attack from even one side—and that, you understand, may not be what you're facing
.

What exactly had Reven meant by that?