“Doesn’t matter,” said Wendell. “The Mistletoe Alliance is what we had a fight about, since you ask, and that’s all.”
Wendell walked away quickly, into the kitchen, and out of range of Jinx’s ability to see any colored clouds.
It was just as Jinx had feared. With the wards and the weapons, the clearings were able to defend themselves, but not to stop the invasion. And without the Wanderers, the situation was more desperate than Jinx would have expected. He’d never realized before just how much stuff the Wanderers moved. The clearings now had to feed themselves on what they’d grown, and none of them could do it. In the west, people couldn’t go into the forest to forage for food because they were afraid of being attacked by the invading army from Bragwood.
The werewolves harried the invaders, but there were far more invaders than werewolves. Some werewolves were killed, and after that the werewolves hung back, watching the situation but reluctant to interfere.
Jinx used the doorpaths to go to Keyland to buy food—and axes. Blacksmiths’ Clearing wasn’t making them fast enough to supply the growing free and independent nation of the Urwald.
Making a doorpath to the palace square in Keria was no trouble; the power that Jinx got from knowledge hadn’t faded like the Urwald’s power. Market days were Mondays. These were also the days that the Keylish troops drilled in the palace square.
There were a couple of thousand of them, Jinx guessed. All in green uniforms, all with glistening, sharp swords. They moved in unison, swung in unison, stabbed in unison.
Jinx turned his back on them, and bargained with a woman for a large wheel of cheese. He offered ten pennies. She accused him of trying to rob her and asked for eighteen. He offered twelve.
“What do you need all this cheese for?” said the woman, when they had agreed on a price of sixteen pennies. “Feeding an army yourself?”
Jinx laughed as if that was a joke.
“Urwish, aren’t you?” said the woman. “You’ve got that accent.”
“Yup.” Jinx counted out the pennies. “I’m a woodrat.”
“Don’t use that word. It’s not nice,” said the woman, counting the pennies over again.
“What?” Jinx was more offended by her recounting his pennies than by the word woodrat. “I don’t mind.”
“But I do,” said the woman. “They’re people too, those Urwalders. If you want to know what I think, I think it’s not right, those men”—she nodded at the soldiers in the square—“going into the Urwald after King Rufus of Bragwood and—and the other one. Innocent people could get hurt.”
Jinx looked at the soldiers in alarm. “They’re going to invade the Urwald?”
“Working in the market, you hear all kinds of things,” said the woman. She flipped the cheese on its side and rolled it across the counter.
“Er, what kinds of things?” said Jinx, catching the cheese. “Like, what else?”
“Well, you might hear that some Urwalders attacked those rebel soldiers in the woods—”
Hearing Reven’s soldiers described as rebels was odd, but Jinx supposed that was what they were.
“—and you might hear that some boy magician led the attack.” She looked him over. “A tan-colored boy, not very tall . . . but that could describe a lot of people. And you might hear that the rebels were planning to attack the boy wizard’s castle in revenge.”
“What? When?”
The woman shrugged. “Don’t know. You didn’t hear it from me.” She turned away quickly and put Jinx’s money into her cashbox.
Jinx looked back at the soldiers. Their vicious sword strokes suddenly looked extremely personal. That made three armies invading the new free and independent nation of the Urwald—Reven’s, Keyland’s, and Bragwood’s. And Reven was planning to attack Simon’s house.
Elfwyn was getting better at the Samaran language. She insisted on practicing it with Jinx and Sophie.
“You’ve got your V’s wrong,” Jinx said.
“I know. That was Wendell’s idea,” said Elfwyn. “It’s to make people think I’m from Benicia. He said I’m going to have an accent anyway, so people should think they know where it’s from. I looked for axes in the markets, but they don’t sell many in Samara. There are plenty of blacksmiths, though. I could ask to have axes made.”
“Absolutely not,” said Sophie. “That would draw the attention of the preceptors. Elfwyn, you have no idea how closely people in Samara are watched.”
A little green cloud of annoyance from Elfwyn. “I’m not stupid, you know.”
“Nobody thinks you are, dear,” said Sophie.
Simon was fading.
He had lost color, like an evergreen black against the snow. You could hardly see him breathe. In fact, you could hardly see him at all.
Sophie held the bottle up to the window, and she, Jinx, and Wendell peered anxiously at the tiny shadow of Simon in the depths of the bottle.
“As long as he’s not transparent, he’s not dead,” said Jinx. “Well, not supposed to be.”
“There’s nothing about this in the Crimson Grimoire,” said Sophie. “And as for the Eldritch Tome—”
There was suddenly the sound of shouting from the far end of the corridor . . . from Samara.
“Get your hands off me! Let go!” It was Satya’s voice.
“Just—just—just you tell them!” Elfwyn’s voice, out of breath. “You—tell them!”
Sophie hurriedly shoved Simon onto a shelf, and she, Jinx, and Wendell ran through the KnIP doorway and into the Samaran house.
Elfwyn had seized Satya, who was struggling and kicking furiously.
“Stop that at once!” Sophie grabbed Elfwyn. Satya broke away and made a dash for the Samaran door.
Jinx charged after her and grabbed her arm. Satya kicked him.
“Jinx! Let go of Satya!” said Sophie. “I’m ashamed of you.”
“Hey, yeah, let go of her,” said Wendell, coming over and looming largely. He grabbed Jinx’s shoulder and gave him an experimental shake.
Jinx shrugged away from Wendell. “Block the door so she can’t run away, and I will.”
Wendell grabbed both of Jinx’s arms, and Satya simultaneously bit Jinx and shoved him away. Satya made it only a couple of steps before she suddenly stopped, teetered, and fell over. Elfwyn had done a clothes-freezing spell on her.
Wendell let go of Jinx and went to tilt Satya upright.
“Take this spell off me!” said Satya.
“Jinx, really!” said Sophie. “I’m very disappointed in you.”
She couldn’t tell it was Elfwyn’s spell.
“I just want to find out what this is about,” said Jinx. “Because Elfwyn doesn’t usually grab people and—”
“Oh, doesn’t she?” said Satya. “I have a right to leave if I want to.” She struggled against her immovable clothes, swaying and nearly toppling over again.
Sophie looked at Satya thoughtfully. “You will stay here and discuss this, Satya. I . . . that’s an order.”
Satya stopped struggling.
“Take the spell off her, Jinx,” said Sophie.
“It’s my spell,” said Elfwyn.
“Take it off her, please,” said Sophie.
Elfwyn did. Jinx was ready to grab Satya, but she didn’t try to get away. Some kind of Mistletoe Alliance thing, Jinx guessed. He didn’t know anything about the inner workings of the Mistletoe Alliance, but he supposed Sophie must be higher in rank than Satya.
“Now,” said Sophie. “We’ll hear Elfwyn’s side first, and then Satya’s.”
“She’s feeding information to the Bonemaster!” said Elfwyn.
“What?” Jinx rounded on Satya. “Are you insane? The Bone—”
“Jinx!” said Sophie sharply. “We’re hearing Elfwyn’s side. Not yours.” She turned to Elfwyn. “Tell it from the beginning.”
“Well, I knew the Bonemaster had been going to Samara,” said Elfwyn. She was still out of breath. “Back when I was still at Bonesocket, he’d be gone
for weeks sometimes. I think they admitted him to the Temple. And then I think once he was in there, he somehow contacted the Mistletoe Alliance and joined them. And then—”
“Where’s your evidence?” said Wendell.
“Wendell,” said Sophie warningly. “Go on, Elfwyn.”
“My evidence,” said Elfwyn, “is that the map I saw in the Bonemaster’s house was an exact copy of the map that Satya drew. Remember, Sophie was surprised when I said the Bonemaster had a map. Because there aren’t any maps of the Urwald, Sophie said. And Sophie would know, because I bet she’s studied everything that’s ever been written about the Urwald. Isn’t that so?”
“I’ve only studied everything the Temple has, and everything Simon has,” said Sophie. “I wouldn’t know what the Bonemaster has.”
“He only got this map a few months ago!” said Elfwyn. “It’s an exact copy of Satya’s map, and he didn’t have it before!”
“There could be other explanations,” said Wendell.
“Name one,” said Elfwyn.
Everyone looked at Satya.
“Very well,” said Sophie. “And your side, Satya?”
“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” said Satya. “If somebody was being helped by the Company”—she looked at Sophie—“it would be wrong for me to say who they were. I can tell you we’re not helping anyone named ‘Bonemaster,’ though.”
“Are you helping anyone with a long, white beard and kind of flashing blue eyes?” said Jinx.
“No,” said Satya scornfully.
“Illusion,” said Jinx.
“Satya,” said Sophie. “We’re going to need you to tell us the truth.”
“You know I can’t—”
“Really—” Wendell shifted uncomfortably. “I think you should tell them.”
Sometimes Jinx could see the iron that underlay Sophie’s niceness. This was one of those times. “Satya, I’m ordering you to tell us,” she said.
There was a long pause. Jinx watched Satya’s thoughts wrestle with each other.
“He said knowledge should be free to everyone,” said Satya defiantly. “That’s what we believe.”
“Just because someone believes the same thing you do doesn’t mean they’re a good person,” said Elfwyn. “Besides, he doesn’t believe that. He thinks it should be free to him.”
“Satya, I think I need to discuss this with the council,” said Sophie.
“You can’t talk to the council,” said Satya. “You’re not even supposed to come into Samara.”
“Then they’ll have to come here.” Sophie went to a desk in the corner. “I’m going to write a message to the council, and I would like you to deliver it, please.”
“You trust her?” Jinx demanded. “You trust her to go deliver some message?”
“Jinx, please,” said Sophie.
Satya sat down on the Samaran couch and folded her arms. “Fine. I’ll deliver the message.”
Sophie wrote. Jinx glared. Wendell rocked back and forth from his heels to his toes, looking anywhere but at Satya.
Sophie folded the note and sealed it. Satya took it and left.
“I’ve asked them to come here at midnight tonight,” said Sophie. “I’m afraid none of you will be allowed to be present.”
“I thought Satya was on our side!” said Jinx angrily.
“She, um.” Wendell looked at the door, and then at the ceiling, and then at the floor. “She asked me to take a book and hide it in a treehouse off the path. She said it was Company business.”
“And you said no?” said Elfwyn.
“Yeah. Well, obviously. I mean, yeah. I mean, I didn’t know who in the Urwald she would want to pass along a book to, without telling you guys, you know?”
“What was the book?” said Jinx.
Wendell looked at the ceiling again. Then he looked at Sophie. Then back at the floor. “You shouldn’t blame her for keeping secrets. She’s been keeping secrets since she was four. She’s good at it.”
“Wendell, she chose to work for the Mistletoe Alliance,” said Sophie. “She—”
“Well, I mean. Maybe people aren’t real good at choosing when they’re four, you know,” said Wendell. “Which is when she started training. Same as you—”
“She can stop whenever she wants,” said Sophie. “No one has to stay in the Company.”
“What was the book?” said Elfwyn.
Wendell looked at his feet. “The Eldritch Tome.”
“What?” said Jinx.
“But I didn’t bring it!” Wendell added hastily. “And we, um, disagreed, and she hasn’t come back to the Urwald since then.”
“Ah,” said Sophie. “Then there’s no harm—”
“But he’s already got the Crimson Grimoire,” said Wendell.
Jinx woke up late the next morning. Sophie was sitting on the stairs, staring into the bottle of shadow-Simon. She was almost hidden in a deep gray cloud of gloom.
“What’d the council say?” he asked her.
“Oh.” She looked up, rather vaguely. “They agreed not to help the Bonemaster anymore.”
“But that’s good!” What was the gray gloom about, then?
“Yes.” Sophie set the bottle down.
“So what’s the matter?”
“They’ve already taught him KnIP,” said Sophie.
“What? How can they have taught him KnIP? I thought they didn’t even know KnIP!”
“Some of them do,” said Sophie.
“Including Satya, because I taught her.” Jinx was catching Sophie’s gloom in a hurry.
“I wanted them to tell me what the Bonemaster’s been doing in Samara,” said Sophie. “And they did. The preceptors admitted him to the Temple. They were thrilled to have an Urwalder, and even more thrilled that it was a magician. They tried to get the Bonemaster to take them through your ward, but he couldn’t or wouldn’t—”
“Probably couldn’t,” said Jinx. “You can’t lead someone through a specific exclusion, I don’t think.”
He hoped not, anyway.
“The preceptors want him to find the old portals,” said Sophie.
“What old portals?” said Jinx. Then he remembered. “You mean the ones that connected the Urwald and Samara? They were closed a century ago.”
“They couldn’t really have been closed,” said Sophie. “Not completely. It’s impossible to undo a KnIP spell, because—”
“Once someone knows the spell’s been done, it’s impossible to unknow it,” said Jinx.
“Right. But in the case of the portals, since hardly anyone remembers they exist, they’re effectively closed,” said Sophie. “Knowledge can die out.”
“Especially in the Urwald. Anyway, he won’t be able to find the portals.” Jinx hoped this was true.
“The Mistletoe Alliance hasn’t seen him since before you and Elfwyn reset the ward around the portal.”
“We trapped him in the Urwald,” said Jinx. That was something anyway. “But if he’s got the Crimson Grimoire, that means he can bottle lives again.”
“And deaths,” said Sophie.
Rattling Bones
They didn’t see the Bonemaster, but they had news of him. It came about a week after they took the Eldritch Tome to Malthus.
More refugees kept dribbling into Simon’s clearing. Most of them came from the west, where they reported attacks by King Rufus’s army. They also reported that the paths were overgrown—completely gone, in some places.
One man arrived from the south. His skin was pale gray and his eyes stared at nothing, and when Jinx spoke to him all the man said was “Rattling bones, rattling bones.”
Loud noises, voices, children, and nearly everything else upset the new arrival, so Witch Seymour took him off to the shed and gave him brews to calm him down.
The witch came into the kitchen a few hours later to report. A crowd gathered round him as he leaned back in his chair and prepared to tell the tale.
“He says his name is Morti
mer,” said the witch. “Or anyway, somebody’s name is Mortimer. One’s not altogether sure it’s his . . . and neither, one gathers, is he. He says he was out hunting with a companion—perhaps the companion was named Mortimer—and a wizard appeared out of nowhere and threw purple potion at them.”
“The Bonemaster,” said Jinx.
“One suggested that,” said Witch Seymour. “After which one got nothing but Rattling bones, rattling bones! for the next hour. So—”
“So the Bonemaster turned the companion into bones,” said Jinx.
“Young man, you’re interrupting a perfectly good story.” The witch frowned until Jinx muttered, “Sorry.”
“The purple potion splattered the victim,” the witch went on. “It narrowly missed our friend. There was a sizzling sound, and then a bright purple flash, and then—”
The witch looked around and smiled in satisfaction at the rapt expressions of his audience.
“Bones,” said Jinx.
The witch looked annoyed. “A skeleton. A skeleton which took a step toward our friend, and then another. Our friend very naturally turned and fled. He thinks he ran for hours along the path. Maybe days, he doesn’t know. And all the time he heard the bones behind him, rattling, rattling, rattling as they ran.”
Silence greeted this. Jinx pictured the skeleton chasing the man down the path, and then very much wished he hadn’t.
“And then what happened?” said small Silas.
“The skeleton began to lose bits of itself,” said the witch. “A fibula here, a scapula there. Finally it was just a thigh bone and a rib or two in the lead, with a skull and a few phalanges scurrying along behind. After that our friend found a treehouse and stayed in it until the remaining bones lost interest and wandered away.”
“Do you think he’s telling the truth?” said Jinx.
“He certainly thinks he is.”
Jinx nodded, digesting this. It sounded like the Bonemaster was learning some new tricks. Including—
“‘Appeared out of nowhere,’” said Sophie. “Is he sure about that?”
“Madame, he’s not even sure of his own name,” said the witch.
Jinx knew what Sophie meant. “Where did this happen?”
“For all I know, only in our friend’s imagination,” said Witch Seymour.
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