Jinx's Magic Read online

  “How could they not be delighted, my lady?”

  “Very easily, in my experience,” said Elfwyn.

  4

  What Berga Knew

  Butterwood Clearing was big—nearly a mile wide, Jinx guessed. There were broad fields, pastures full of cows, and even orchards. Most of the clearings Jinx had seen were drab, dingy, and squalid, peopled with ragged folks balanced on the thin edge of starvation.

  No wonder barbarians had invaded Butterwood Clearing, Jinx thought. Butterwood Clearing was, well . . . rich.

  Something odd was happening.

  People saw them. Particularly, they saw Elfwyn, in her red cape and hood. They came forward as if to greet her. But they stopped, and stood there, and didn’t speak.

  Jinx could see their feelings, and they weren’t warm ones. These people didn’t like Elfwyn. Some of them hated her.

  “Maybe we should leave,” he muttered.

  “Why?” said Elfwyn. “We came to see my mother.”

  “Because these people . . . aren’t friendly,” said Jinx.

  “All Urwald folk are a bit shy,” said Reven. “I’m sure they’re kind enough at heart.” He spoke louder. “Greetings, good people!”

  The Butterwooders muttered. Red clouds of hostility formed. Jinx quickly reviewed the spells he knew, all four of them.

  “What’s all this?” A small man pushed his way through the crowd. People made way for him quickly.

  “Hello, Helgur.” Elfwyn’s smile didn’t go with her feelings, which Jinx could see were more of the say-nothing-and-try-to-hide-your-feet-behind-each-other variety.

  “Who’re you?” said Helgur.

  “Elfwyn. Berga’s daughter. We’ve met, remember?”

  “Tell her to go away,” said a man.

  The Butterwood Clearing people muttered agreement.

  “No secret is safe around her.”

  “She ferrets ’em out and tells them to everyone.”

  Helgur frowned at Elfwyn. “You have a curse on you. I’ve heard people talking.”

  “It’s not her fault,” said Jinx.

  “This is my mother’s husband, Helgur,” said Elfwyn, as if this was all perfectly normal. “Helgur, these are my friends Jinx and Reven.”

  Reven did a sort of bow, which involved shifting his shoulder ever so slightly to show that he was carrying an ax.

  “Charmed,” said Helgur. “My wife is in a delicate condition. She doesn’t need any curses. And the feelings of the people in my clearing—”

  “It’s the lady Elfwyn’s clearing, good sir,” said Reven. “As I understand it, you are but an invader.”

  “That’s the way we do things in the Urwald,” said Helgur.

  “I have a right to see my mother!” said Elfwyn.

  “Please summon the lady’s mother, good sir,” said Reven. It came out like a command.

  “Oh, here’s Mother now,” said Elfwyn, with a purple ripple of anxiety.

  Jinx had never seen anybody in a less delicate condition in his life. The woman swung through the crowd like an ax. There was something vaguely Elfwyn-like about her grim, green determination, but she was all bunched-up and ready-to-spring where Elfwyn was sort of willowy and quick.

  “What’s this all about?” Berga demanded.

  “Hello, Mother,” said Elfwyn.

  “I thought I sent you to your grandmother’s.”

  Elfwyn tilted her chin defiantly. “Grandma’s the one who put the curse on me. You told me it was fairies!”

  “Did she tell you that?”

  “No, I figured it out for myself,” said Elfwyn.

  “And you believe what you figured out for yourself? Why? Who are these boys?”

  “Yes. Because a wizard agreed with me. Reven and Jinx,” said Elfwyn. “Friends of mine.”

  “What wizard?”

  “Simon Magus,” said Elfwyn.

  “What were you doing associating with an awful wizard like that?”

  “He helped us after we escaped from the Bonemaster. Mother, stop—”

  “What were you doing with the Bonemaster?”

  “He captured us,” said Elfwyn. “Would you please stop—”

  “And what exactly are you doing with these boys?”

  “Traveling to the edge of the Urwald.”

  “What! The edge of the Urwald! And with boys! Why boys?”

  “I told you, because they’re my friends!”

  “And why have you come back here?” said Berga.

  “Because I wanted to ask you to tell us the story about the king of Keyland who was killed by his brother.”

  Reven winced. Jinx could see the next question coming, too.

  “Why?”

  “If I may answer that, my good lady—” Reven broke in.

  But there was no stopping Elfwyn’s curse. “Because Reven is the real king of Keyland.” She turned to Reven. “I can’t help it! She always does this. She uses my curse—she’s done it ever since I was little.”

  “I quite understand,” said Reven.

  And Jinx saw that Reven wasn’t annoyed—but he was calculating, in little rows of green and blue squares.

  “Perhaps we should have this discussion back at the house,” said Helgur, looking at the crowd.

  “It’s not your discussion,” Berga snapped. “It’s my discussion.” She frowned. “All right, come up to the house, then.”

  She pushed through the crowd, trailing Elfwyn behind her. Reven and Jinx followed, and Helgur strode alongside.

  They sat down at the kitchen table.

  “Shouldn’t we offer them something to eat?” said Helgur. When Berga frowned, he added, “It’s an old barbarian custom.”

  Berga hmphed, and thumped a loaf of bread and a wedge of cheese down on the table. Nobody took any.

  “Is he really the king of Keyland?” Berga demanded.

  “The rightful king,” said Elfwyn.

  “Actually we don’t know,” said Jinx.

  “We think he is,” said Elfwyn.

  “We had hoped you might tell us the tale of what happened in Keyland,” said Reven, giving Berga his most charming smile.

  “And then we’ll go away,” Elfwyn offered.

  That seemed to clinch it.

  “Very well,” Berga huffed. “Once upon a time—”

  “It wasn’t that long ago, really, was it?” said Elfwyn.

  “It’s a story,” said Berga. “Now, are you going to let me tell it like a story, or shall I not?”

  “I’m going to let you tell it like a story,” said Elfwyn.

  “Very well. Once upon a time, in a kingdom far away, there lived a wicked king, a good queen, and their infant son. The wicked king fell in love with a lady as beautiful as the sky, and so he made sure that his wife pricked her finger on a poisoned needle. After she died, he married the beautiful lady. And they lived happily ever after for a few months.

  “Then the king’s wicked brother decided that he wanted to be king. So he summoned an evil fairy, and the evil fairy smothered the king in his sleep. Then he led the beautiful stepmother and the little prince into the forest, until they became lost, and they sat down under a tree together and died. And little birds came and covered the corpses with beautiful flowers. The end.

  “Satisfied?”

  “No,” said Elfwyn. “What were their names?”

  “Whose names?”

  “Everybody’s,” said Elfwyn. “Nobody in your story has a name.”

  “They don’t need names,” said Berga. “When you’re a king or a prince, everyone knows who you are.”

  “And there’s no such thing as fairies,” said Elfwyn. “So a fairy couldn’t have killed the king.”

  “It’s only a story.”

  “But it really happened, didn’t it?” said Reven. “Whence came the tale, my lady?”

  “I heard it from a traveler,” said Berga.

  “You mean a Wanderer?” said Jinx.

  “No, if I had meant a Wande
rer, I would have said a Wanderer. This was a traveler. A witch who had been living in the kingdom at the time.”

  “In Keyland, you mean?” said Reven.

  “Yes, in Keyland. The witch may have told me more particulars, but they didn’t fit properly into a story, and I don’t remember them now.”

  “Do you at least remember the witch’s name?” said Jinx, getting frustrated.

  “Yes, of course. It was Witch Seymour.”

  “And might you know how to find this witch, good lady?” asked Reven.

  “As a matter of fact, I do. I’ll draw you a map.”

  She went to a cupboard by the wall and brought paper and ink. Elfwyn had told Jinx that everyone in Butterwood Clearing could read and write, but he was surprised to see Elfwyn’s mother just doing it, and having paper around the house and everything.

  He wondered what magic made Butterwood Clearing so rich, and whether it was a spell that could ever be gotten to work on the other clearings.

  Witch Seymour’s house was two days’ journey to the south. The trees were not at all happy to find Jinx guiding the Terror that way. The quickest way out of the Urwald lay to the east.

  They camped that night on the path. Jinx started a fire, and Reven and Elfwyn went to gather more firewood. Jinx looked around for a place to hide the aviot Simon had given him. He didn’t need Simon spying on him.

  “We shouldn’t have stopped here. We’re too close to that pool,” said Elfwyn.

  There, where that thick oak branch joined with the trunk. That would be a safe place. Jinx took the tiny gold bird out of his pocket.

  “What’s wrong with that?” said Reven. “It’s convenient for hauling water. And maybe bathing.”

  Jinx turned around, the aviot still in his hand. “No bathing!”

  Reven looked amused. “Why not? I admit it’s a little chilly, but—”

  “There are probably nixies in the water,” said Elfwyn.

  “Really?” Reven dropped the firewood he was carrying. “I’ve never seen nixies.”

  “Stop!” Jinx stuck the aviot back in his pocket and hurried after Reven. “They’re dangerous. My stepfather was killed by nixies! Nixies dragged him down deep into the water and nobody ever saw him again.”

  “I thought your stepfather was a troll. You cut his arm off, remember?”

  As if he could forget. “The stepfather before that. George.”

  “Really?” Reven frowned. “Well, I won’t get in the water. I’ll just look.”

  Jinx sighed. Reven had a habit of charging in where Urwalders feared to tread.

  The pool was very deep—just the kind nixies liked. It was probably connected by a tunnel to their underground caverns.

  Reven crouched at the edge. “I don’t think there even are any—oh wait, is that them? Way down in the depths?”

  There were half a dozen of them, swimming around in hypnotic swooping patterns, weaving over and under each other.

  “Yes,” said Elfwyn. “Now you’ve seen them, Reven. Come away.”

  “In a minute, my lady,” said Reven.

  It happened very quickly.

  A nixie shot to the surface, and popped her head up out of the water. She looked part cat, part frog, and part human. She smiled at Reven. He smiled back. She put her hands on his shoulders, as if just resting for a moment. Then she tugged, and Reven plunged headfirst into the water.

  Ripples spread outward. Jinx could see Reven struggling, already impossibly far away, with all of the nixies clinging to him.

  There was another splash.

  “Stop!” Jinx yelled, too late. Elfwyn was swimming furiously down toward Reven and the nixies.

  Jinx dithered, frantic. He could not swim. The nixies had Elfwyn now, were dragging her deeper.

  He tried a levitation spell. It was hopeless. He couldn’t levitate living people. “You can’t if you think you can’t,” Simon always said.

  Jinx took a deep breath and drew on the Urwald’s lifeforce, feeling the power rise up through his feet from the roots of the trees all around him. He reached downward with the levitation spell, probing deep into the pool, and deeper still—Elfwyn and Reven were getting farther and farther away. He fought the huge weight of the water. The lifeforce of the nixies pulled against him. But the Urwald was stronger than that.

  The whole squalling ball of nixies, Elfwyn, and Reven inched slowly upward. It rose through the water, and then out of the pool, and hovered three feet above the surface, water cascading off the struggling nixies and people.

  But the nixies weren’t letting go. Jinx raised them higher still. The water was gone now and the nixies needed that to breathe. One of them let go of Reven’s arm and fell into the pool. Then another fell. And another. Elfwyn elbowed one of them in the face, but it still clung to her, trying to grab her around the neck. Two others were strangling Reven, who had turned purple and was not breathing.

  Jinx couldn’t reach them. Simon would’ve been able to bring them all sideways to land; Jinx didn’t know how.

  A nixie had its hands around Elfwyn’s throat now.

  Jinx ran, leapt, and caught hold of a webbed foot. His momentum carried them all to the side. He hung down and groped with his foot for the edge of the pool. He hooked his foot around a helpful tree root and felt himself being drawn to the shore. Could the trees do that? Trees couldn’t move.

  Jinx, Elfwyn, Reven, and nixies tumbled to the forest floor. Jinx grabbed and hit the nixie strangling Elfwyn. The nixie snarled and let go of Elfwyn so it could claw Jinx. Jinx wrestled with it. It was rubbery and much stronger than it looked. It reached for his throat, and he put up his hands to block its long, treacherous fingers. Both his hands were trapped against his neck. The nixie was dragging and strangling him and he couldn’t breathe.

  Suddenly the horrible pressure stopped, and Elfwyn was pulling the nixie off of him, kicking it, flinging it in the water. And then Jinx saw glowing green eyes everywhere in the twilight.

  “Monsters!” he croaked, just as the werewolves attacked.

  He grabbed Elfwyn, but she pulled away from him and hurried to help Reven, who was still battling two nixies. Jinx and Elfwyn dragged Reven free, and the three of them ran.

  Jinx and Elfwyn collapsed beside the fire, gasping. The snarl, yap, and squall of werewolves and nixies fighting was still going on a hundred yards away. Reven picked up his ax.

  “You d-don’t n-need that,” said Elfwyn, shivering. Her voice was raspy from being strangled by the nixie.

  “Those b-beasts will be after us next, I swan.”

  “No they won’t,” said Jinx. He drew on the flame inside him to make the campfire burn higher and hotter.

  “T-truce of the Path,” said Elfwyn, huddling closer to the fire and shooting Jinx a grateful glance.

  Purple and pink uncertainty blopped around Reven’s head. He lowered the ax.

  “C-come to the fire before you f-freeze,” said Elfwyn.

  Reven did, but he kept looking over to where the yapping and squalling had now becomes splashes and snarls. “They’re only animals. Surely they w-won’t obey the Truce?”

  “Yeah, they will,” said Jinx. “Werewolves are thinking creatures. Unlike some people.”

  “They’re still m-monsters,” said Reven. “They would have eaten us, forsooth!”

  “Probably,” said Jinx. “But now we’re on the Path.”

  “The Urwald is too dangerous for human habitation,” Reven said.

  “It is not,” said Jinx. “If you’re not a total idio—”

  “You l-levitated us, Jinx,” said Elfwyn.

  Jinx hadn’t really had time to think about this yet.

  Magic on anything that had a lifeforce was much harder than magic on mere objects. Jinx remembered all the elaborate preparations Simon had had to go through to do a spell on Jinx himself. And yet Jinx had just levitated two people and six nixies.

  Jinx and the Urwald. It had been the Urwald’s power, with Jinx telling it how to work.
And now he felt exhausted. It was as if the force of the Urwald had passed through him and wrung him out.

  And he realized he was even more aware of the Urwald than he had been before.

  “Someone’s cutting down trees,” he said.

  “In the dark?” said Reven.

  “No,” said Jinx. “I mean every day. They cut down more every day. I can feel it.”

  “Less space for horrible monsters to hide in, then,” said Reven.

  “The trees are dying,” said Jinx. “They’re being killed.”

  “Well, it’s progress,” said Reven. “It has to happen.”

  “It does not!” Jinx looked over at Elfwyn for help, but she was asleep.

  “Get rid of all the trees, and you’ll get rid of all these monsters, forsooth.” Reven tucked Elfwyn’s blanket around her. Then he got out his own blanket and huddled into it. “You’re sure about this Truce?”

  “Utterly,” said Jinx.

  He was really annoyed. How could Reven be such a fool? And it wasn’t just Jinx’s own feeling—it came rumbling through the Urwald, running along the roots, humming through the tree trunks.

  The Terror must go, said the trees.

  He will, said Jinx. I’m taking him to the edge.

  Too slowly. Too long. You wander here and there. When will he leave?

  Soon, said Jinx. We have to go talk to this Witch Seymour, and after that, we’ll head straight to the edge.

  We made an agreement with you.

  Yes, I know, said Jinx. I take him out, and you don’t hurt him. A sudden thought occurred to him. Those nixies and werewolves—

  We have no control over the Restless.

  Of course they didn’t, Jinx thought. The nixies had behaved like nixies, that was all. And the werewolves—well, it was funny, now that he thought about it. The werewolves had attacked the nixies.

  He got up and dragged a branch into the fire. And noticed glowing eyes watching him from just off the path.

  He lay awake the rest of the night. You do, in a situation like that.

  5

  Witch Seymour

  “The map says we turn right here,” said Elfwyn.

  “Well, there are two rights,” said Jinx. “So which one of them are we turning?”