Jinx's Fire Read Free Page B

Path of Fire to the Path of Ice. And it could be that Simon’s been put in place to form the connection.”
    That didn’t sound good at all. “How the—”
    â€œLanguage, Jinx.”
    Jinx gritted his teeth. Simon had never said “Language, Jinx.” Simon considered swearing a useful skill. “How could the Bonemaster do that?”
    â€œI don’t know,” said Sophie. “But the two paths seem to symbolize lifeforce and deathforce—”
    â€œI think they kind of are lifeforce and deathforce.”
    â€œâ€”and Simon’s done both kinds of magic. So it might be that he was naturally able to touch both paths.” She shook her head. “I just don’t know.”
    â€œMalthus might know,” said Jinx. “If we loaned him—”
    â€œWe’re not loaning the Eldritch Tome to anyone,” said Sophie. “It’s the only thing that can help us find Simon.”
    Everyone followed Jinx out to the tree they called the Doorway Oak. It had rotted from the middle over the centuries so that it was like a small room, surrounded by a C-shape of tree trunk. Inside, if you knew they were there, you could see the overlapping arches of the dozen Doorways that Jinx had made so far.
    There were doorpaths to the clearings that had been destroyed by the Bonemaster—Cold Oats Clearing, Badwater Clearing, and Jinx’s quondam home, Gooseberry Clearing. Those places were all thoroughly planted in beets, pumpkins, and potatoes now, to feed the people in Simon’s clearing.
    There was no doorpath to Blacksmiths’ Clearing. Jinx hadn’t bothered to make one because the only time he’d ever been there, they’d kicked him out.
    Knowledge was the power that made a KnIP spell. Making the doorpaths required an enormous amount. Fortunately, Jinx could use other people’s.
    He stepped into the trunk. The Urwalders crowded in as close as they could. The golden wires of their knowledge twisted and looped all around them. Jinx drew on it for power, and knew that Blacksmiths’ Clearing was rightin front of him. A new Doorway opened, and he stepped through. Nick and Hilda were right behind him.
    Everyone in Blacksmiths’ Clearing seemed big and grimy. And jumpy.
    â€œThat magician boy!” a woman said. “The one who turns people into stones! He’s come back.”
    â€œI didn’t turn anyone into a stone,” said Jinx irritably. “I turned one guy into a tree.” And it had sort of been an accident. Largely.
    The blacksmiths gathered round, their arms folded. And this was the thing—they were all blacksmiths. Men and women and all of the children except the very smallest. They had scorched eyebrows and smoke-colored faces.
    â€œWitch Seymour told us you wanted to know if the rest of the Urwalders are with you,” said Nick.
    â€œWe came to tell you that they are,” said Hilda.
    â€œDoesn’t look like it,” said a girl. She looked around her. “Seems like we’re all alone here.”
    â€œWe’ve come to help,” said Nick.
    Expressions of pure skepticism greeted this announcement.
    But the girl stuck her hand out. “Glad to hear it. Name’s Maud.”
    They introduced themselves.
    â€œWe’ve been making weapons,” said Maud. She had brass-colored braids and a way of tilting her head backwhen she spoke so that Jinx’s view of her was mostly nostrils. “But we’ve run out of iron. We’ve had to turn our hoes and shovels into axes.”
    â€œWe’d make swords if we knew how to use ’em,” said a man. “But we don’t, so it’s axes. They’ve attacked us three times so far. We fight ’em off. But there’s been folks killed.”
    Grim, tight, gray clouds around the blacksmiths’ heads. Packed into boxes the blacksmiths didn’t want to open.
    â€œHow many—” Nick began.
    â€œThey