Archive for ‘Ghosts Of Rainmoor’
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It was getting on toward winter, and the trees, shedding their leaves on the roof of the small cabin, seemed determined to make it a picture of bucolic comfort, although few ventured deep into the forest to see it. If anyone had wandered out that direction, unaware of the new homestead, they might have looked about in search of the owner, keeping as far as possible from the incongruous black panther that prowled the yard. A flash of bright metal would catch their eye, and they’d look in that direction, and look again, in astonishment, forced to admit that they did actually see a tiger standing on its hind legs, chopping wood just like a person. Looking more closely, they’d see that this tiger wore a sword as well, and that the black panther seemed particularly well-fed, perhaps from eating inquisitive strangers. At this point, they’d very likely do their best to quietly leave, never to return…
Jinx, as he chopped wood, thought about the changes that had happened since he and Elanor had left Rainmoor. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but it wasn’t this.
Elanor had indeed grown to like his world, for what it was worth, but she fit into it even less than he did. Inns that would allow him, grudgingly, to stay the night, would bar their doors against Elanor, or demand that he keep her in the stables. When she spoke, asking curiously whether the stables were nice, it didn’t help. Instead of deciding that Elanor was a person, the humans would tend to look at Jinx with even more suspicion, and all doors would be closed. Humans didn’t like jungle cats prowling around, and Elanor still refused to walk on two legs as he did. In fairness to her, he had to admit that he had more to gain from it than she had, for he had hands, but she just had front paws. It was unreasonable to expect her to stand as a matter of course: she was much more comfortable on all fours, having got around that way all her life.
Jinx couldn’t trust Elanor in the cities, and made a point of avoiding them. True, in the city nobody would think twice about Elanor, but Jinx knew that sooner or later some drunken bravo or arrogant mage would insult him, or he’d get mobbed by a pack of thieves, or ordered to leave by the city government. Jinx had seen all these things happen, and he was certain that if Elanor had been there she would have gone after whoever was attacking Jinx. By the time he could explain that the gang of humans were only after his money, and that he was laying down and playing dead because that was the customary way to assure them you didn’t need to be killed, it would be too late. Elanor might actually be able to defeat a gang of humans, if only because they weren’t used to encountering resistance. They might flee when faced with her slavering fangs and savage claws in a dark alley. In that case, Jinx would have the task of explaining to her that they had to leave the city right away, because the gang doubled as the local militia and were off to organize a block-by-block hunt for her…
Since Jinx wasn’t about to dare the cities, and since Elanor wasn’t well received in the towns, that left the open country, and there they had settled. In the half-year they’d been there, they had encountered only one neighbor, a rundown wizard named Mick, who was more a druid than anything else. Mick ended up visiting a lot, which pleased Jinx. The man was happy and friendly and made cheese and sausage for Jinx’s larder, and was excellent company, prone to sitting up talking about preposterous things until the first glimmers of dawn. Jinx liked staying up at night, so this posed no problems, and Mick claimed to know little and care less about what time of day it was.
The only drawback to having Mick visit was that both Jinx and Elanor would be scratching for days: Mick loved nature so much that he could be depended upon to bring an assortment of new fleas and such with him, and he scratched incessantly, dislodging the fleas, which would soon learn with delight that this new place boasted two large, furry food-sources rather than one rather small, scrawny, furless one.
It never seemed to bother Mick. He just grinned and scratched and joked about it, unperturbed. The fleas never lasted long, either: within a few days they would be gone, and Mick’s company was worth the discomfort. Jinx was looking forward to it. Jinx thought he must have changed somehow, since he went to Rainmoor, for he used to be happy to stay away from humans for months on end, and now he was actually happy to see one. He wondered what had happened to his old independence. Was it really independence, or was it just anger and fear? Jinx wasn’t sure, but it didn’t really matter anymore.
He thought of Elanor as he chopped more wood. The isolation was harder on her than it was on him. She hunted, as he did, but she didn’t take part in the small amount of gardening he did, and she didn’t care how the house looked. When she wasn’t lustfully nuzzling up to him, wanting to make love, she was spending her time in the Lonely Place, or at least it seemed that way at times. Her moods were becoming all extremes, with no middle ground. One minute she’d be clingingly affectionate and kittenish, just about climbing into Jinx’s lap. Then, for some small reason or even no obvious reason, she’d flare at him and sometimes even lash out with her claws exposed. When she did that and he didn’t dodge her in time, things got even more absurd, because on hearing his yowl of pain she’d immediately flip back, becoming miserably sorry and inconsolable over wounds she’d caused herself two seconds ago. Jinx wished she’d make up her mind, but he did understand what she was going through.
Elanor was trying to find her friends, the other animals that she’d known when she was an Astral Guard, and she was hampered by not being in Rainmoor anymore. She was, indeed, able to tap into an Astral Plane, but apparently it wasn’t the same one, and she had yet to find the right one. Jinx had asked her, once, what the difference was.
“This one is emptier.” she replied, “and also it’s sort of happier. It’s not as scary.”
“Good.” he’d said, at which she’d burst into tears.
“No, it’s not! None of my friends are there!”
After that, Jinx had let her search, hoping she’d either find her friends or lose interest. Neither happened, and Elanor searched harder and harder, refusing to quit. She became increasingly distraught and irritable, prone to wild mood swings, unable to relax. Jinx reminded himself often, when she was distracted or prone to tears, that she’d spent her entire life with these friends, and that he couldn’t take the place of them.
He tried, most commonly with passionate lovemaking, and also with holding her tenderly in the small hours of the night when she couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t enough. She was very good about it, and obviously still loved him, but then he’d see the tip of her tail twitching in frustration, and he’d know that there were things he couldn’t fix for her. She took to going out into into the night, a ball of nerves, and Jinx would soon hear the squeal of some small woodland creature nearby. The forest was not well-prepared for the addition of a full-grown black panther to its ranks of predators: Elanor, in her frustration, decimated the wildlife and brought terror to the denizens of the woods. The hares and foxes and raccoons were horribly overmatched. She said she didn’t usually eat them, but she was growing fat anyway.
Jinx often gave the extra kills to Mick, who tanned the skins and wore them, and carved wands and things out of the bones. Jinx liked Mick’s magic, because it was so different from any magic he’d ever seen. The magic of Rainmoor was flashy and ominous, putting on a grand show, and Jinx had never felt comfortable with it. When Jinx had first entered Rainmoor, he’d announced his presence by figuring out that he had to put a magic rock he’d been given into a hole in the ground. The rock had exploded with a bright flash and a smell of lightning, scaring him out of his wits. Jinx asked Mick once whether that was part of the magic.
“These magicians, they’re always doing things like that.” Mick had answered. “You don’t need to. You don’t need to. Just a waste of energy. None o’ them know how to work a good, honest hex.”
Mick’s magic seemed to grow out of rocks and trees and herbs and things, carved wands that could lead you home and little stones that started fires for you when you piled wood on them. Jinx liked that, because there was something reassuring in the countless little cantrips and tricks, so unlike anything he had known. Elanor was unimpressed, having grown up surrounded with magical Gates to strange and wonderful places, encountering conspicuous flashy magic everywhere she looked. Mick eventually got his revenge by materializing a frantic chipmunk inside the house, which miraculously evaded her exasperated claws for a solid hour. Whenever she grew tired and disgusted, it would sneak up and pull her tail, and she’d blow up and go after it again. Finally, she was so fed up that she refused to play along, at which point it walked around in front of her, and bowed, inches from her face. Her eyes glittered, and her paw lashed out to crush it to the floor. When she lifted her paw, there was nothing there but a tail, and at that point, Mick burst out laughing at her confused, exasperated look.
“I got you.” he guffawed. “I got you. You may have growed up fancy and all, but I got you. Look at her! Look at her!”
Elanor was offended, but she had quickly forgiven him: one couldn’t stay mad at Mick for long. There was no malice in him, and he’d quickly become attached to her and Jinx, coming over frequently and bringing little gifts and trinkets and foodstuffs to give and to swap. They rapidly grew to like him, and to welcome him into their home. Jinx had never seen anybody so accepting and friendly: the odd little man made all the other humans Jinx had met seem standoffish. He extended the same cordial welcome to Elanor, right from the start, which was astonishing, since she’d pounced on him and knocked him flat the first time he came around. “A playful one,” he’d said, “a playful one! My dear, you’re the biggest kitten I ever did see, and no mistake.”
Jinx had never seen anybody else come by to visit, and once he asked Mick if anybody else lived in the forest. “Huh!” said Mick in amusement, “look at him, thinks he’s the only one settled in these parts!”
“There are others?” asked Jinx.
“You won’t see ‘em. You won’t see ‘em. Folk around here don’t mix much.”
“You seem to visit us a lot.”
“I visit anybody I please. A good man with a hex can go anywhere he wants. I just took to you, is all. Never saw your like, in all my years. You’re powerful strange creatures.”
Jinx might have been offended at this, but Mick had said it with such open, curious wonder that there was somehow nothing to be offended at.
As Jinx continued to chop wood, Elanor appeared in the door of the cabin, listening intently. “Will you stop that for a moment?” she demanded, and Jinx held still. She blinked.
“It’s two people this time. One is probably Mick. The other one’s bigger.”
“How do you know?” asked Jinx, who heard only the rustling of the dead leaves.
“By the way they walk, of course. Can I go see who it is?”
“Please don’t, Elanor! It could be anybody.” replied Jinx, putting down the axe and making sure his sword moved freely in its scabbard, just in case. He waited, resting one hand on the sword’s hilt innocuously.
Through the trees came two figures. One, Jinx saw immediately, was Mick: the other was almost as tall as Jinx was, with a ragged wildness about him and a wary glance. Mick walked right up to Jinx and Elanor, but the other man hung back noticably, and seemed ready to bolt.
“Jinx, this is Alan.” said Mick. “Alan, this is… Oh, for heaven’s sake, come forward, won’t you? They won’t bite you. They won’t bite you. This is friends of mine, they won’t bite you.”
Alan nervously stepped forward. “Hello,” he mumbled, looking at his shoes. Jinx stared at him a while, curiously, until Mick said “Well now! Are we invited in, to sit and talk like we always done, or are we standing around for a spell?”
They went in, and Jinx noted that Alan took a seat as near the door as possible. Jinx wondered if he had done something terrible to account for his fearfulness. He didn’t speak, and looked only at his shoes. Elanor was fascinated by him, and her eyes never left him.
“Saw a raccoon on the way over here,” said Mick, “and you won’t believe a word of what I’m about to tell you.”
“Why not?” said Jinx.
“Well, this raccoon had a little rock in his hand, you see, and he was going around and around a big old pine tree, chipping at the bark bit by bit.”
“Can raccoons do that? I never saw one doing anything like that.”
“Well, now, that wasn’t the strange part. Turned out that raccoon went climbing up the tree as he went around, up and up until he reached the lowest branch. Happens the lowest branch was a full twenty feet off the ground. That raccoon made a spiral cut all up the tree, just as far as he could.”
“Why would he do that?”
“I was wondering that myself, as I watched him. When he was finished, he scooted down the tree, and started all over again, going round and round, just cutting that groove deeper and deeper. He did it all of five times, and by the time he was finished I was wanting to know why myself.”
“Well?”
“Well, the next thing he did was even stranger. He scooted down the tree, and by this time the groove was so deep that he slid down it, round and round the tree until he reached the ground…”
“Wouldn’t he fall off to the side?”
“You’d think so, wouldn’t you? That was nothing. When he got to the ground, what do you think he did?”
“Threw up, from being too dizzy?”
“Now, don’t be making jokes, I’m serious. Well, he looks at the tree for a moment, and then he reaches out with one little paw and gives it a whack, and the whole tree started spinning, sinking down, just screwing itself into the ground! And do you know why he did all that?”
“I couldn’t begin to guess.” said Jinx helplessly.
“Why, because there was a apple on the branch that he couldn’t reach! Can you believe that? I saw him, cool as a fish, just walk over, reach up and pick it, and walk off eating it and whistling. Never saw anything so astonishing in all my years.”
“I thought you said it was a pine tree.”
“Well,” said Mick, “I wasn’t totally accurate in the way I began this story…”
Elanor, having heard Mick tell stories before, had ignored it completely, and she’d been furtively sneaking closer to Alan the entire time. When she was a few feet away, she sniffed, sniffed again, and said “I know you! Do you hunt?”
“Do you?” replied Alan, still looking at his shoes.
“Yes, especially at nighttime.”
“Step in this pile of dust over here.” said Alan, and Elanor, puzzled, complied. Alan inspected the paw mark, and one side of his mouth curled up in a almost imperceptible smile.
“You’re that new beast in the woods.”
“And you’re the thing that always stayed just out of sight! I knew I recognised your smell!”
“You drove me real far back. Ain’t got much of a territory, since you come around.”
Elanor, dismayed, exclaimed “I didn’t mean to chase you away!”
Alan regarded her levelly. “Not your fault. I don’t mess with anything leaves tracks like that.”
“Awww. Don’t be scared, I’ll share.” said Elanor, gazing earnestly into his eyes. “I didn’t know. You can hunt in my territory any time you want.”
“Thank you.” said Alan, and Elanor startled him by resting her head in his lap and purring. Jinx watched him closely, in case his reaction was hostile. Hesitantly, Alan petted her, and remarked to Mick, “You’re right. They’re good folk.”
“That’s true. That’s true. That’s true.” replied Mick. “I told you so, but I figured you had to see for yourself. They’re good folk.”
“Never seen ‘em in town, though.”
“Now, when was the last time you went to town, Alan?”
“Went there last month to get a new knife.”
“There’s a town near here?” said Jinx. “We tried to find a place far away from people.”
“Sure there’s a town. It’s a good-sized town. I like to go there for provisions. I’ll take you there sometime. You can go with Alan, but he never goes to town.”
“How big is it, and what direction is it?” asked Jinx, planning to move the opposite direction as soon as winter was over.
“It’s all of twelve houses, just twenty mile or so north. Biggest town this side of Rainmoor mountain. Full Hollow, it’s called. Do you know, they actually have a blacksmith there?”
“Is that the person who made Alan a new knife?”
“Aye.” replied Alan, and lapsed into silence again.
“Do you think he can make me a better sword? Mine’s ruined, from clearing brush with.”
“You should have told me, Jinx. I got a old scythe up at the house you can have. Don’t be clearing brush with a sword, you’ll cut up your arm something awful… Well, maybe not you. I reckon your fur would block most of it.”
“But do you think he can make me a better sword?”
“Don’t you want to hang on to your old one? You told me you killed a King with it once. Don’t that count for something?”
“No, why?”
“You’re a strange creature, Jinx. Can I have it, if you don’t want it?”
“Sure, but I need a better sword first.”
“Talk to Rob, he’s the blacksmith. I’ll swap you ten assorted cantrips for your old sword, and you can get any sword you like for that. Why, do you know what Rob did once? He made a full circle sword for a fellow who’d seen them scimitar things. Fellow wanted one like that, only circular, so he could cut somebody no matter what direction they were coming from.”
Jinx considered this. “Did it work?”
“Hard to say. The first thrust he made with it, he stabbed himself in the back. That gave Rob the idea to make his backwards sword, to give to your enemy…”
“Backwards how?”
“It had a handle on the point, you see, as well as the hilt. Turned out nobody in these parts had an enemy that bad, and Rob finally sold it to Paul, the cabinetmaker.”
“It was good to make cabinets with?”
“No, Paul’s pretty strange, and he used it to make a boat with. Great big ship, that you could fit all of Full Hollow in, all the houses and people…”
“But there’s nothing but streams around here!”
“I said he was strange. He wanted to have it ready, in case it rained too hard, and sure enough, the rains came and we found use for it…”
“I don’t believe you. How could it rain so hard that everything was flooded?”
“I didn’t say that, did I? No, what happened was Paul got tired of waiting for an ocean to show up, and he got everybody to help him turn it upside down. Just flipped it over, on top of all the houses and all, and now Full Hollow is snug and dry when it rains.”
“Don’t mind Mick.” said Alan. “The part about there being a blacksmith in Full Hollow was true.”
“All of it is true.” said Mick. “All of it is true. Go see for yourself. Only trouble is, when you go into Full Hollow these days it’s too dark to see anything, since the boat don’t have windows in its hull, so you’ll have to take my word for it.”
“You’re a damn liar, Mick.” said Alan, amiably. “Ain’t none of that was true.”
“Well, some parts was truer than others. Why don’t you ask Jinx how it was he killed a King, if you want tall stories?”
“Okay. Jinx, how’d you kill a King? King of what?”
“He was the King of Rainmoor, for a few minutes, anyway. I killed him with a sword. Elanor helped.” Jinx noticed Mick and Alan staring at him, as if expecting him to continue. “That’s all.” he said, defensively.
“Mick, why ain’t he tellin’ a proper story?”
“I don’t rightly know, Alan. You never went into much detail, Jinx, but I never heard you tell a story except for that. Why is it you can’t make up other stories?”
“Jinx isn’t making up stories.” said Jinx defensively.
“Do tell!” said Mick. “I can set up a quick hex to know whether you’re speaking the truth. Now, are you going to admit you’re telling stories, or do I try the hex?”
“Please don’t do magic on me!” said Jinx.
“Then you admit it. Well, I can teach you to tell better stories…”
“No, it’s all true. I just don’t want to have magic happening to me.”
“It ain’t cast on you, Jinx, and I believe I’ll do it, just to teach you a lesson. See this rock?” said Mick, and produced a small rock from his pocket. “Mote it be, leap for me. Jinx, I just told the rock to hop into the air if you tell an untruth.” He set it on the table. “Now, what’s all this about killing a King?”
“Oh. I killed the King of Rainmoor.”
Mick stared at the rock. “Mote it be, leap for me, damn it! Damn thing didn’t catch…”
The rock hopped into the air, and landed with a clunk on the table.
“There we go! It didn’t hear me the first time.”
The rock jumped again.
Mick, addressing the rock, said, “Do you mean to tell me that Jinx here really did kill the King of Rainmoor?” and the rock just sat there.
“The thing ain’t listening to anybody but you.” said Alan, and the rock immediately jumped again.
“Huh!” said Mick. “Let’s try this. Rock, you’re not listening to Jinx.” The rock jumped again.
“It’s working fine.” said Mick, uncontradicted by the rock. “Jinx, tell your story.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter much now…” said Jinx, and the rock jumped.
“I reckon it does. Out with it!” said Mick, getting interested. Alan, too, was paying close attention.
“I got brought to Rainmoor to kill the Nameless-King. He was trying to kill King-Thomas, and he was also killing First-Lords. He did kill King-Thomas, and he almost killed all the First-Lords, but before King-Thomas got killed, he made me one. All the other First-Lords were getting killed or quitting, though, and by the time I killed the Nameless-King they were all gone. Then I came here with Elanor.”
Mick stared at the rock, which hadn’t budged. “Let me get this straight,” he said. “King Thomas is dead.” The rock didn’t budge.
“You were supposed to protect him.” The rock didn’t budge.
“He ended up making you a First Rank Lord.” The rock didn’t budge.
“The Nameless One really existed, and ended up killing off all the First Rank Lords but you…”
The rock jumped into the air, and Jinx corrected him. “Lord-Peter quit being a lord.”
“Ah. So the Nameless One really existed, and killed off all the First Rank Lords but you and Lord Peter, and Lord Peter quit instead of being killed.” The rock didn’t budge.
“This is getting interesting! After that, the Nameless One killed off King Thomas, and then you killed off the Nameless One.” The rock didn’t budge.
“And, when you did, you was the only First Rank Lord left.” The rock didn’t budge.
“Well, I’ll be damned!” said Mick, at which the rock jumped. Mick paused, and said deliberately, “You’re the King!”
The rock didn’t budge. Alan was staring at Jinx in astonishment.
“I thought it was something like that, since the way out of Rainmoor opened up again.”
Mick burst out laughing. “Don’t that beat all! That makes you a Queen, Elanor, how’d you like that? Wait till I tell the folks in town!”
“Please!” interrupted Jinx. “Don’t tell anybody, I don’t want to be a King!”
“Bit late for that now, ain’t it? I declare! All this time, we ain’t suspected a thing! Good to have you with us, King Jinx!”
“I don’t want you to call me that! Please don’t!”
“Oh, now, being a King ain’t all bad, you know! You got charms around you for all sorts of things. Ain’t no magic that can kill you, and you’ll be in good health. I believe that goes for Elanor, too.”
“It does?” said Elanor. “I don’t feel that healthy. I go hunting all the time to relax, and even though I don’t always eat what I kill I’m still getting fat.”
At that, the rock jumped. Mick noticed, and shut it off with a “Stone I keep, go to sleep!”
Jinx noticed it too. “I thought so. You do too eat what you kill, and that’s why it jumped.”
“I do not! Most of it I bring to the house! You know perfectly well that I don’t eat everything!”
“Well, the rock said you did.”
“Now, Jinx, she said a few things there. Maybe it was upset when she said she went hunting all the time. That ain’t so, since she’s here with us right now, not out hunting. If it was bothered by that, I’ll have to do some work on it, cause it ain’t supposed to pay no mind to such remarks. Come to think of it, it shouldn’t have jumped when I said I’d be damned either. It’s notional, and it’s always getting mixed up.”
“Turn it on again.” said Jinx. “I want to know what Elanor said that wasn’t true.”
Elanor looked at Jinx, hurt. Mick started to say the cantrip words again, and then stopped.
“I reckon I know what it was. Elanor, come over here, dearie.”
She did, and Mick rested his hand on her side. A slow, roguish grin crept onto his face. “I know.”
“What?”
“She said she was getting fat. That ain’t so, and she’ll be thinner by and by.”
“What are you talking about?” said Jinx, disconcerted.
“Elanor’s gonna have kittens. Yours, I presume.”
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Jinx gaped at Mick in outright disbelief. “What? That’s impossible!”
“You heard me. She’s pregnant. What’s so impossible about that?”
When Jinx, dumbfounded, didn’t reply, Mick continued. “Jinx, she’s pregnant and it’s got to be your doing. Spare me the astonishment, okay?”
“That can’t be true.” protested Jinx, and Mick took offense.
“Of course it’s true! Do you think I’m an idiot? Do you seriously expect me to believe you’ve never done anything but cuddle and tickle each other’s ears? Maybe those posh folks in Rainmoor pretend to find their babies under cabbage leaves, but this ain’t Rainmoor and I don’t hold with such tripe. You can’t fool me, Jinx, I know these things, and you got no business acting innocent. Why, there’s been times when I could just look at Elanor from a certain angle and know what was on her mind, and it wasn’t knitting, I’ll tell you that. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, look before you leap.”
“Mick, it ain’t right to talk to a King that way!” protested Alan.
“Well,” said Mick, “I just wanted to make the point. Anyways, Elanor’s pretty far gone, and there’s no mistaking that. I don’t know exactly when you can expect the new arrival, but it won’t be long.”
“Mick,” said Alan, “she best go easy on the hunting for a while. Queen Elanor?”
Elanor stared at him in confusion. “Do you mean me?”
“I surely do. Queen Elanor, I’ll do what I can to help out with the hunting, seeing as you shouldn’t be tiring yourself, in your condition…”
“What do you mean, my condition?”
“You’re pregnant.”
“What’s pregnant?”
This time it was Mick and Alan’s turn to be thunderstruck. Finally, Mick said, “You really don’t know that? Where on earth have you been all your life, my dear?”
“Well, in the Lonely Place mostly. I was brought to Rainmoor when I was very little. I’d just barely learned to hunt, and I didn’t know anything. I learned a lot of things in the Lonely Place, but nothing like this ever happened! I’m getting fat, and my nerves are shot, and I get upset over silly things. Is that what pregnant is? Can you fix it so I don’t have to be?”
Mick let out a long, low whistle. “I’ll be damned. I’ll be damned. Jinx, did you understand what I was talking about?”
“Yes. I just didn’t think it could happen to me.”
“I’ll be damned. You folk are gonna have to make some adjustments, I’ll tell you that…”
“I have to stop hunting?” asked Elanor plainitively.
“Maybe sooner, maybe later. Elanor, do you know what babies are?”
“Yes. In Rainmoor, some of the consorts had them. Is that why I’m getting fat?”
“Sure is.”
“How could that happen? They were always tiny little humans! I’ve got tiny little humans inside me?”
“No, no! You’ll be having kittens, my dear. Have you ever seen kittens?”
“No. Wait, yes, I have, actually. There were some small, tame cats in Rainmoor, and some of them got fat and later I saw them with little baby cats around them. Were those kittens?”
“Yep.”
“Oh. They were really cute.” said Elanor, and thought for a moment. “Wait a minute! If being pregnant means having little baby things inside me, where do they come from? And how do they come out?”
“Same way they got in.”
“What?” said Elanor, at which point Mick explained in detail exactly what was involved for the whole process. Elanor listened closely, and was more and more dismayed.
“I will not! That would hurt! Jinx is all I can handle, and you’re saying these kittens are how much bigger? Never mind, I don’t care how cute they are! I don’t want any!”
“Now, dear,” said Mick, “there ain’t much you can do about it now…”
Elanor looked back and forth between Jinx and Mick frantically.
“I’m sorry, Elanor!” said Jinx, earnestly. “I didn’t think this would happen!”
Elanor let out a strangled moan and rushed out the door, vanishing into the woods.
“Oh, no!” said Jinx. “Is she about to…”
“No, she’s not. I promise you that.” said Mick, and the squeal of a small woodland creature being killed came through the forest. “She’s just upset. Can’t say as I blame her, if I was her I’d be having kittens over it too. You’d best wait until she calms down a mite.” Another squeal rang out.
“She keeps that up, she ain’t gonna need my help for hunting.” said Alan.
“It’s a habit of hers,” explained Jinx. “When she’s upset, she goes out and kills things.”
Another squeal rang out, more distantly.
“Hell, if she keeps that up I’ll be needing your help for hunting. I never heard the like.”
“She doesn’t usually get that upset.”
“Jinx,” asked Mick, “what did you mean when you said you didn’t think it could happen to you?”
Jinx sighed. “I was sort of invented by this wizard for some reason. The wizard was a human, but my mother was a tiger. After he threw me out, Sir-Irwin came along and saved my life and sort of adopted me, but Sir-Irwin ended up getting killed. He had taught me how to talk and walk on two legs and everything, and I learned all that because I wanted to be human…”
“That’s as close to a story as I ever heard you tell,” said Mick, “but it don’t answer my question. Why didn’t you think you could mate with Elanor?”
“I’m not really human, but I’m not really a tiger either. I’m something in between, because of this wizard. I did grow up with humans, and there were a few times when lady humans got very excited over me, and ended up making love to me. They never said anything about making babies, though, and nothing like that ever happened. Anyway, I didn’t think I could mate with anything and make babies, because I’m not anything natural.”
“Well, I declare!” said Mick in wonder. “That’s a mighty strange story, Jinx. Seeing as you were telling the truth about killing the King and all, I’m inclined to believe you, even so. Don’t you know why this wizard made you?”
“Wizards never make sense, even worse than humans. I would actually like to know, though. I would like to know why the wizard made something just to kick and hit and chase away. I would like to know why the wizard threw me away in the end, and whether he made any more things like me, and why he killed my mother.”
Mick gasped, stunned at the detached, casual way Jinx said this. Alan was staring at Jinx as well.
Jinx tried to explain better. “It would make more sense if she was attacking him, but he was always careful to only hurt me when she wasn’t watching. She was always upset and confused when I got hurt, but she never figured out why. I don’t think she ever did attack him, so it doesn’t make any sense that he killed her.”
“How do you know all this?” asked Mick, aghast.
“When Sir-Irwin taught me to talk, he wanted to know where I came from. It took a long time, but eventually I understood what had happened. I didn’t know that the thing like me which suckled me was a tiger. I didn’t know that the other thing was a father, or that it was a human. When Sir-Irwin was trying to learn where I came from, he kept asking whether I had ever seen another tiger around the place. Finally he explained that, in order for me to be alive, another tiger had to have climbed onto my mother and stuck its penis into her, so there had to be another tiger. He said that was called making love, and it was how babies were made. When I told him that there wasn’t any other tiger, but the human did that a lot, Sir-Irwin got really upset…”
“I’ll be damned. I’ll be damned.” said Mick. “So you know what happened, but you need to know why. Is that it?”
“Yes. Can you help?”
“I reckon I can, Jinx, but just how bad do you want to know? Give me a few days, and I can set up what you’d call a regress with a passenger. Do you really want that? I wouldn’t blame you if you chose to just leave the past alone. It’s a damned uncomfortable way to learn things. It’s a damned uncomfortable way to learn things.”
“What is it? I don’t follow you.”
“You got that backwards. I’d be following you. Regress means you’d go back and relive all that, and the passenger is me. If you just regressed, you still wouldn’t understand anything, but with me there watching it would be different. I’d be along for the ride, and I could understand things you wouldn’t. Uh, Jinx, before I make up my mind to this, did this feller ever torture you?”
“Not exactly.” said Jinx.
“Did he ever do anything to you with spiders?”
“No, why?”
“I can’t handle spiders. Jinx, when I say I’d be along for the ride, I mean it literally. You’d never know I was there, and I’d be stuck with whatever happened. I’d be feeling everything you felt, as if I was you, but I wouldn’t be able to do a damn thing about it. There usually ain’t much call for this hex, and when there is it ain’t always pleasant. Once more, did this feller ever torture you? I can’t say as I’m real comfortable with ‘not exactly’. What’s ‘not exactly’?”
“Not really, at least not that I can remember.”
“Oh, wonderful! That’s always a good sign! Maybe we best forget this, Jinx. Do you really have to know? It sounds damned nasty, take my word for it. Why don’t you tell me some of the worst things you can remember, so’s I can make up my mind not to do it?”
“Please, Mick?” said Jinx, surprised at how strongly he felt about it. “I really need to know. Please?”
“Oh, hell! All right. And don’t tell me a damned thing! If I know what’s gonna happen, it’ll just make it worse…”
Alan spoke up. “You done right, King Jinx. It’ll ease your mind. I know.”
“Oh, you know.” said Mick crankily. “You know. Alan, when I did you, I swore I’d never use that hex again, it was so bad. Seeing as Jinx’s life looks to be nine times sicker even than yours was, would you keep your comments to yourself?”
“You’re a brave man, Mick.”
“I’m a stupid man. I’m a stupid man. Every time I turn around, I get stupider. Jinx, give me a few days to get ready, I’ll come around when I’m stupid enough to.”
He tramped out the door. Jinx asked Alan, “What did he do to you?”
“Same thing he’s fixing to do to you. You wouldn’t think it to look at me now, but I used to only have one leg, and I didn’t have no parents, and I wouldn’t get near people atall. Mick growed up my leg to be even better than the other one is, and I ended up getting him to go with me into my past, on account of I didn’t remember any of it. He didn’t like how come I got no parents, he didn’t like even worse how come I wouldn’t get near people, and he really didn’t like the way I lost my leg. He told me all about it, when he was finished, and swore blind he was never going to mess with mysterious strangers again. I reckon he’s changed his mind.”
“You had your leg chopped off, and he had to feel what it was like?”
“Not exactly. He told me, if it was up to him, when he heard the people coming he’d have just stayed in the bear trap…”
“There are traps in the woods?” asked Jinx, alarmed, automatically looking out the window to check for Elanor.
“Not any more, there ain’t.” said Alan, his eyes gleaming. That made sense. It was hardly surprising that this wild human had gotten rid of all the traps after having been caught in one. Jinx wondered what had happened to the trappers, but refrained from asking about them.
“I hope you’re not aiming to put more traps in the woods, King Jinx. I don’t know what I’d do about that.” continued Alan. “If you do, can you give me enough time to get out of town?”
“Stop calling me that! That’s not my name!” snapped Jinx, fed up. “And I wasn’t planning to put any sort of traps in the woods. Even if I did, you’d just break them anyway, so why bother?”
“I’m sorry, uh, Jinx. Ain’t never had a King for a neighbor before, and I’m trying to get used to it.”
“The whole reason I came here in the first place was to get away from all that!”
“Well, I can understand that. I just didn’t think such a thing could happen. Maybe all this means changes for the best. You’re not fixing to divide up the woods into estates, are you?”
“What are estates?”
“Estates is when the King takes the land away from us and gives it to his lords. The next thing you know, they’re building castles and villages and roads, and hunting game for sport. Before long, they’re turning the folk into soldiers and fighting the other lords nearby to try and get their estates bigger, and if you don’t like it they build jails. Well, if you’re lucky they build jails… I don’t know why any King would hold with such things, but maybe he gets out of touch from living in Rainmoor all his life.”
“Why would I ever want to do things like that?”
“I don’t rightly know. I was hoping you could tell me, being a King and all. You don’t want to do that? What about taxes, tithes, that sort of thing?”
“I have to pay taxes? I thought I could get away from all that by living out here.”
“No, no! Everybody has to pay you. You don’t know much about being King, do you? All taxes go to the King.”
“What for?” asked Jinx, interested.
“Damned if I know. Just for being King, I suppose. I never thought it was a ‘what for’, I just figured taxes meant you gave all your money to the King, and the King kept it.”
“I like that part. Maybe being King isn’t as bad as it seemed. Do you have any taxes I can have?”
“Hell, no! Ain’t nobody around here pays taxes. I hope you ain’t serious, Jinx.”
“I guess not,” said Jinx, disappointed. “Is there anywhere else that I can go, where people will give me all their money?”
“It don’t work that way, Jinx. You don’t just go around with a big sack.”
“How does it work?”
“I ain’t telling. The folk around here would never forgive me if they knew there was a new King, who didn’t know what taxes were, and I was damn fool enough to tell him. Jinx, you don’t need such things anyhow. In these parts, people take care of each other. You don’t have to be King for that.”
“Oh.” said Jinx, still trying to figure out how he could get all the people to give him money. Maybe he could leave the people here alone and have the people in the cities give him all their money. It would serve them right. “I do want to stay here, and be friends with the people who live here, so never mind.”
“That’s good to hear. Even if you did try to levy taxes around here, you wouldn’t get anything, so don’t worry about it. I reckon you’re in the right place, if you want to be let alone. Don’t tell anybody you’re the King, or you’ll never see them again… well, maybe not. I imagine most folk wouldn’t believe you, anyhow.”
With that, Alan left. He had been showing increasing nervousness, and clearly needed to get back into the woods where he felt safe. Strangely, none of his discomfort seemed to come from being around Jinx: it was more like he felt threatened being in a house. Jinx found that odd, but somehow reassuring, since he felt the same way about magic as Alan felt about being shut up within walls. Jinx wondered what Alan’s house was like, if he had one.
“Jinx!” cried Alan, from somewhere outside. “Jinx, come quick! It’s Elanor!”
Jinx froze, and then he was charging outside, looking around frantically. Alan was waving his arms a few hundred feet away, and the look on his face was terrible to see. When Jinx got there, he found Elanor, and understood.
She was doggedly struggling toward the house, leaving a trail of blood behind her, and feebly arguing with Alan, who was pleading with her to lie still and rest.
“…nonsense, Jinx can heal me, I need to find him…”
“You can’t even walk!” protested Alan.
“I can so!” argued Elanor, and got halfway to her feet in a fit of stubborn bullheadedness, promptly collapsing again. She shook her head in an attempt to clear it, and began dragging herself toward the house in a determined fashion. “I’m almost there, you stupid human. Leave me alone, I’m trying to find my mate.”
Alan looked helplessly at Jinx. “Do something! She ain’t listening to me!”
“Elanor!” said Jinx, crouching in front of her. “Lie still, you’re making your injuries worse.”
“Oh.” said Elanor, finally noticing his presence. “There you are. Where have you been? Don’t just stand there looking upset, fix me!”
“What happened to you?”
“There was this pig thing. I tried to kill it, but when I reared up at it, it got me with those little horns they have…” said Elanor. She coughed, and spat out blood.
Alan turned white. “A boar hog. She took on a boar hog. Jinx, stay with her, I’m getting Mick.” He ran off as fast as he could, shouting “Mick! Mick!” Elanor didn’t seem to notice.
“The weird thing was, it didn’t even try to eat me.” continued Elanor, feebly. “I fell down, and it sort of sniffed at me and went away. I headed straight home, but I started falling over a lot and ended up sort of crawling most of the way…”
“Where did it get you?” asked Jinx desperately. “I have to heal you right away, so show me!”
Elanor looked more or less at him, with no sign of recognition.”No, I can’t show you. Can’t you see I’m busy? I’m trying to find my mate, so leave me alone!” She struggled to her feet with grim determination, took one wobbly step, swooned and collapsed.
Jinx laid his hands on her and desperately tried to heal her, hoping the healing facility he’d gotten from Rainmoor was up to the task. He felt the disconcerting flow of magic rushing through his arms, and unlike previous times he’d used it, this time it didn’t stop, and he just hung on, growing faint with exertion, focusing only on healing Elanor, and the magic gushed through him unceasingly.
When Mick arrived, he had to tap Jinx on the shoulder to get his attention. “Jinx! How’s she doing?”
“She doesn’t recognize me!” answered Jinx, distraught.
“She’ll have lost a lot of blood, that’s why. We’d best work quick. Help me roll her over on her side. Carefully!”
They did, and Jinx cringed to see the dreadful wounds in her belly.
“Good thing you’ve been hanging on to her with that Rainmoor hex, or she’d be gone by now, but it was never meant to deal with this. I sent Alan back to get materials, and hurried out here, in case you didn’t know you had that hex, but you obviously do know. See how the edge of this wound is trying to heal itself?”
Mick was pointing with his finger, but Jinx couldn’t look.
“Oh, settle down, boy! You did good. You did good. We ain’t gonna lose her now. It looks messy, I know, but if it was real bad she wouldn’t have got this far, I’ll tell you that. You best get back on the job, though. That hex of yours is replacing the blood about half as fast as she’s losing it…”
Jinx did so, but had to keep questioning him. “Can you save her? And what about her babies?”
“Her, yes.” said Mick seriously. “I’ll have to wash out the wound, and sew it up, and then the healing spells will be able to handle it. I don’t know about her babies, and I intend to find out. She may have solved that problem for herself, whether you like it or not. How the hell did she get so much crap in there, Jinx? Them wounds is goddamn filthy!”
“She was trying to get home, but she was too weak to walk, so she dragged herself on her belly.”
“She did what? Of all the… She ain’t got the sense of a dead fish, you know that? She dragged herself on her belly! I’m going to have a little word with her about that when she’s well enough to listen.”
Alan ran up, carrying a small bag. “Is this it?”
“Yes, Alan, it is. Now, would you go back and get the bag with a snake painted on it? It seems Elanor here wasn’t happy with her injuries, and decided to rub dirt in them to make them more challenging to us poor, overworked healers…”
Alan was already gone, and Mick turned to Jinx. “How about getting her into the house? You take her front legs, and I’ll take her hind legs.”
“Shouldn’t she lie still? Alan wanted her not to move.”
“He’s a good boy. However, having looked at her I’m sure no bones are broken, and she’s already done everything she could to make her injuries worse. You just keep on with that hex of yours, that Alan didn’t know about, and it’ll be fine.”
Alan showed up as they were carrying her inside, and Mick had him fill up pots and cups with water. Jinx kept on working his healing power, grateful that he had something to do.
“Jinx,” said Mick as he cleaned out Elanor’s wounds, “I’m impressed. I have never seen so much crud in a wound before. I swear, she must have been packing it in with her little paws or something. Somebody needs to tell her that dirt ain’t a good bandage… Oh, hell!”
“What?”
“That ain’t all dirt. Damn it! The bastard got her guts open! How the hell did she crawl so far with so much damage? This ain’t good. Keep that hex going!”
Elanor was unconscious, but she’d been feebly struggling and moaning as Mick worked on her. Now she went limp, hardly breathing, and Jinx panicked.
“She’s dying!”
“Like hell she is.” said Mick grimly, and he laid his hands on her and muttered gibberish for a moment, joining with Jinx in his fight to keep her alive. “Alan! Get the needle and thread out, quick!”
Mick began rapidly sewing Elanor’s insides back together. “I was going to ask you whether you wanted me to check on the kittens, but it’s too late to fool around with that. The womb seems to be untouched somehow, but I can’t tell whether they made it through all that yet.”
Jinx watched him as he stitched away. There was a horrible fascination in what was happening. He’d spent enough time hunting for food that he was familiar with animal insides, but he’d never really thought of himself and Elanor as having them. It was a rude shock to look at Elanor and see a glimpse of the same organs and guts and things. And instead of the simple task of taking them all out, Mick had to put them back somehow.
“Damn it, Jinx, focus! You’re drifting, and I can’t do this without your hex to hold things together!”
“I’m sorry! Is she going to be okay?”
“Shut up and heal!”
Jinx shook off his mental weariness and focused on healing Elanor, concentrating so hard his vision blurred and his hands shook. He vaguely heard Mick speak from time to time, saying “That’s more like it” or “Keep it up, we’re almost done”, but he paid no attention.
Finally, Jinx noticed with a shock that the numbing flow of magic through him was lessening. He opened his eyes as it slowed to a trickle, and saw that Elanor’s belly was intact again, and that Mick was sitting peacefully watching him.
“Much obliged to you,” said Mick, “for taking on the brunt of the healing. I generally have to do that part as well, and it takes a lot out of me. You done good. Some things I didn’t even have to sew together, I just held ‘em together and they healed up right away. You didn’t even notice when I was finished, so I didn’t tell you, since you was focusing so well.”
“What about her kittens?” asked Jinx. “Did you check to see if they were okay?”
“You mean ‘kitten’.” said Mick. “There’s only one, and if you’re interested it’s a boy, and he’s doing fine, or so I assume. At least, he’s alive and kicking…”
At that point, Elanor stirred and opened her eyes. She stared blankly at Mick for a moment, then tried to get to her feet, but he pushed her back down firmly.
“Oh, no, you don’t, young lady!”
“Where’s Jinx? I need to find him!”
“He’s right behind you, dear, half-dead from all the work he had to do healing you. Now, I’m going to ask you a question, Elanor. It just so happens your kitten survived the experience. There’s just one, and it’s a boy, and you’re farther along than I thought, because I was expecting you to have a litter of three or four. Now, do you want this kitten, or not?”
“Yes, I do! That’s why I was trying so hard to get back to the house. I didn’t know what to think about it until that pig thing got me, because I was too upset, but when it ripped me open with those horns I knew how I felt…”
“Do tell!” said Mick. “So you decided the best thing to do was drag yourself through the dirt and make your wounds six times worse?”
“I just thought of the little baby Jinxes inside me getting stabbed by pig horns, and kept going. Anyway, I got there. There’s only one? A little baby Jinx? And it’s alive?”
“Yes. You’ve made up your mind, then? You want him?”
“Oh, yes!”
Mick exploded. “Then you damned well better take care of yourself! This little situation was your fault, and you know it! I feel like an idiot for not having stopped you in the first place, but I thought to myself, what harm could it do if Elanor runs around a bit? The next thing I know, Alan’s rushing over to tell me you took on a boar hog! Not only that, but you reared up at it and let it go for your belly! Ain’t you ever seen a boar hog before? How could you be so dumb as to open yourself up for its worst attack?”
Elanor started to cry. “I’m sorry! I didn’t know! I promise I’ll never attack a pig again!”
“No, I’d go a step farther than that, my dear. You’re not going hunting, not even for butterflies, until you’ve borne your baby Jinx. I reckon I’m your doctor now, seeing as I had to put your insides back to where they belonged, and you’re going to lie around being pregnant if I have to make Jinx sit on you. This little one has had enough trouble already, and you don’t have the faintest idea what risks you’re taking, do you? Elanor, what would you do if you were up in a tree chasing a squirrel and went into labor?”
“Climb down, and go straight home?”
“No, I don’t think so. You’d fall.”
Elanor did not find it easy to be quiet and sedate, even though she’d resolved to be.
“Jinx, this is driving me crazy!”
“But, Elanor, you have to take care of yourself. You know that.”
“I know, but it’s driving me crazy! Talk to me some more. Do you think his fur will be stripey like yours, or black like mine?”
“I don’t know, Elanor! Wait and see.”
Such conversations disturbed Jinx. Elanor was always trying to talk about their soon-to-arrive kitten, which they’d agreed would have to be called Mick, but Jinx found it troubling when she speculated on things like what his first word would be. Elanor didn’t really understand that her own ability to talk, think and fret was gained through Rainmoor magic, and Jinx really didn’t want to tell her how afraid he was that their child would be a dumb animal.
“Do you think he’ll have hands like you?” she asked.
“I don’t know! I hope so, they’re useful things to have.”
“I suppose they are. Claws are useful too. Maybe he’ll have both!”
“Remind me never to shake hands with him.”
Fortunately, Elanor didn’t just lie around talking about the new kitten. Jinx couldn’t help but think of it that way: humans got to have babies, but he wasn’t human and Elanor certainly wasn’t, so ‘kitten’ seemed the most appropriate word, even if it turned out to be intelligent. When Elanor wasn’t talking about her kitten, she was roaming the Astral Plane in further search for her friends. She did this especially when she was frustrated and edgy, putting tremendous energy into her search, energy that she could no longer burn off by going out and hunting. She stayed out longer and longer, combing the Empty Place, as she took to calling it. She still found nothing, to her way of thinking, although the little she could explain of it sounded anything but empty.
It had been three days, and Mick still hadn’t shown up. Jinx was beginning to think the man had changed his mind about exploring Jinx’s past. Frustrated, Jinx tried to remember it himself, but it was no good. The memories he had were the same meaningless pictures as before, the same vivid glimpses of awful moments, seemingly snipped neatly out of the fabric of time and existing only as isolated instants, illuminated with fear or pain. It was odd which things remained vivid for him. The wizard had broken his leg with a kick once, but Jinx could not remember it happening, only the way the man silently watched him limp on three legs out of the room. There were memories of running on all fours while hindered by sprained fingers, which he’d sprained himself by using his hands for front paws. Those memories were mostly feelings of astonishment and betrayal, for his body would not work the way his instincts told it to. And there was one memory where he, for the first time, used his hands as hands. He had opened a door. He remembered the feeling of triumph as the door swung open, and there the memory stopped, leaving only the certain knowledge that something really horrible had been on the other side. What it was, Jinx could not recall, no matter how hard he tried. He wondered whether he really wanted to know…
There was a faint sound of whistling coming from outside, getting closer and closer. Jinx looked out the window, and it was Mick.
“Are you stupid enough yet?” asked Jinx as Mick strode jauntily in.
“Sure am! Sure am! Why, I’m so stupid I don’t know the meaning of the word… the word… Heck, I’m even stupider that that, I don’t even know the word I don’t know the meaning of. If there’s anybody stupider than me within a hundred miles, why, it serves them right, that’s all I can say.”
“What?”
“No, actually, Jinx, stupidness wouldn’t help me none anyhow. I’ve been meditating the last few days, to get ready for this regress. It’s got me feeling so centered and comfortable I’m giddy. Basically, I needed to get into the frame of mind where I can look at anything with a clear eye and an open heart. If I got upset at something in your past, I wouldn’t be seeing it clearly and I might misintepret it. Most of all, I have to be able to stay separate from your feelings. It’s easy to get swept up in the experiences to the point where I don’t know who’s feeling what, and that’s when it gets nasty. When I did Alan I had to meditate for a week before I knew who I was again. This time, I figured I’d start off right and avoid all that.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
Mick looked at him appraisingly. “Are you sure, Jinx, that you want me to do it? I’m ready for it, but you sound like you’ve been brooding over what you might find. Am I right?”
“The parts that I don’t remember frighten me. It could be anything! Maybe I don’t want to know.”
“You know. You know. Get that into your head, Jinx. Just because you ain’t willing to look at it don’t mean there’s nothing to see. You have nightmares? Panics? Do you get struck with rememberings?”
“Some of those things. I thought that everybody did.”
“Well, a lot of us do. However, such things can mean your past is tapping you on the shoulder and saying, look at me. Hiding from it gives it a power over you, and I truly do hate to see somebody afraid of their own mind. It’s a shame. It’s a terrible shame.”
“But do I have to remember everything all at once like that? It sounds …awful.”
“Didn’t I explain that yet? You won’t remember a thing. I’ll be telling you all about it. There have been people who I wouldn’t tell everything to, but my guess is that you can handle the truth.”
“Oh. Do I have to go lie down, or burn candles and chant or something?”
“Nope, done all that.” replied Mick. “All’s you got to do is say the key words three times.”
“Why three times? And what key words?”
“‘Remember Me’, and it’s three times so you can back out if you want to.”
“Oh. Jinx appreciates your thoughtfulness.” said Jinx formally. “Remember me. Remember me…”
“Uh, there ain’t no hurry, you know…”
“Remember me.”
(Damn!) thought Mick as the world faded around him, to be replaced by a kaleidoscopic blur of Jinx memories racing by in reverse. (The damned cat didn’t even give me time to get ready! Oh, well…)
(Well, this is right nice.) thought Mick, as Jinx contentedly suckled at his mother’s nipples, only a few weeks old. (Lord knows I’ve had this experience before, but never so furry. Oop! What’s this?)
His mother stiffened, and he looked up, startled and scared by her sudden unresponsiveness, to see another creature looking down at him. It dropped to its knees and began speaking words he could not understand, and stroking his body. (Ha! This has got to be that wizard Jinx mentioned. Funny thing is, he ain’t hostile. Let’s see what he’s got to say…)
“Don’t be afraid, my little treasure, I won’t hurt you. You’re my greatest triumph, darling, and we are going to know each other very well. What lovely little hands!”
(He sure ain’t hostile.) thought Mick. (What on earth… Oh, lord, I figured it out. Look at his robe there, the man’s blind with rut. What, what have I got myself into?)
“You’re beautiful, perfect.” said the man, running his hands lavasciously over Jinx’s kittenish body.
(Don’t. Don’t. Don’t.) thought Mick, aghast, as Jinx purred, comforted but dreadfully puzzled.
The man lifted Jinx’s tail, and Mick cringed. “Would you mind greatly, dear one, if I peeked? You’re still too young,” (Damn right, you pervert!) “but a man can dream, can’t he?”
Suddenly the man dropped Jinx’s tail and clouted him savagely on the head, shaking with fury.
(OW! You bastard! Now I get it!) thought Mick. (He ain’t as perfect as you thunk he was, huh? You sure are good at telling the sex of kittens, one glance and you know. Well, there’s nothing like having a personal interest. That sure explains a lot. You weren’t trying to create Jinx, you were trying to create Jinxette!)
Jinx cowered, terrified, as the man glared at him. Finally the balked wizard spun on his heel and stomped off, slamming the door behind him. Jinx tried to get his mother’s attention, but she remained unaware of his presence, so he pushed himself under her limp front leg and lay there, shivering.
(Wonderful. I’m stuck in the skin of a tiger kitten living in the house of an angry pervert wizard. Let’s skip ahead a bit.)
Jinx wandered the halls of the huge, cold, stone building, looking for his mother. Usually she was around, but then the scary human would appear and wave his hands at her, and she would forget Jinx and follow him into a big room cluttered with baffling things and pungent, acrid smells. If Jinx tried to follow, the man would kick at him. The door would close, and Jinx would be shut out, listening to her terrible cries.
(Just as well he don’t know what’s going on in there. On second thoughts, I’m not sure what’s going on in there either. Most times I’m pretty sure, but we already know this guy is conducting weird experiments on his tigress, otherwise she couldn’t have gotten pregnant by him. I’m sure I just heard some lines of hex, and it sounded like a dark hex to me. Maybe I can find some memory where Jinx was watching the guy work. Onward!)
The man had left the door open, and Jinx snuck in, nervous but drawn by the fascinating assortment of objects strewn everywhere. He glanced fearfully at the wizard, but the man was deeply engrossed in study and didn’t notice. That suited Jinx, because the man never did anything nice to him anyway.
(It seems Jinx never did figure out that this fellow’s taken to feeding him. Or does he think his mother kills those animals for him? I’m getting to understand this pervert wizard fellow pretty well. He don’t like Jinx, but he’ll feed and shelter him as long as Jinx don’t get in his way… Oh, lord! Jinx! Don’t!)
Jinx found a mysterious thing, that glowed and spun and sparkled with pretty colors. It was up on a table, but Jinx had grown big enough to rear up onto the table and gaze at it. He reached out one hand to bat at it playfully…
(Jinx! Unbalanced hexes don’t take well to being pawed at! Lord, lord, that one must have taken days to work up! We’re doomed, even if dumb Jinx is too busy playing with breakable magic to notice!)
As Jinx touched the spinning, sparkling thing, it burst with a loud pop and a flash of light. It sent a painful jolt down his arm, and he drew back, hissing. Then he looked up to see the wizard glowering down at him, and the man drew back his leg and delivered a vicious, savage kick with all his strength. It sent Jinx flying, with the bones in his leg broken.
(Aaah! Bad! This is a bad one! Steady, Mick, it ain’t really your leg… Aaah! Jinx, you damn fool, don’t try to walk on it! Aaaah! You damned idiot cat, this is your fault! Least the wizard ain’t doing anything now, just staring. Drag yourself, Jinx, that’s it, don’t put any weight on it. You may not know why that man’s staring at you, but I suspect he’s feeling a little upset right now. He has been feeding you, though you don’t realize it, and it looks like he didn’t mean to break your leg. That’s a strange expression, I never saw a man so torn between rage and guilt before. He looks like he’s about to cry. I surely am glad he’s got enough sense to not come after Jinx right now, I couldn’t stand it if Jinx panicked and tried to run on a broken leg…)
Jinx dragged himself down the hall, toward where his mother had been, and she, hearing his whimpers, rushed up to him.
(There now, Jinx, it’s your mom. What she’s gonna do about an injury like that is beyond me… No! Whatever you do, don’t lick it… Aaaah! Stop it! Aaaah! Wait, what’s this? She stopped, thank goodness, but he’s frozen stiff himself! I hear that wizard coming. Hard to keep from panicking, Jinx is so scared, but I think I know what’s about to happen…)
Jinx couldn’t move, and something was approaching, step by step. If it was the man, then he was doomed, and if it wasn’t the man, he was doomed. Rigid, he waited for his death. Hands closed around his hurting leg, sending shards of pain up his spine, and then, astonishingly, the hurt began to go away. Soon, there was no pain left, though he still couldn’t move. The hands withdrew, with a last gentle pat that was almost a caress, and the footsteps withdrew down the hall. A door closed, and suddenly Jinx could move again, and so could his mother, who promptly held him down with firm paws and started licking him.
(I knew it! Look here, Jinx, even though you can’t hear me. You don’t know what to make of this last part, and you’re liable to forget it since you can’t understand it. I, on the other hand, recognize that cantrip, and I know that it was your wizard father healed you. Not only that, I know that he used a very powerful hex that must have drained him pretty good. I’m a mite surprised that he didn’t let you see him doing it, but my guess is that he wants you to be afraid of him so you don’t bother him. I imagine he got his wish, considering your attitude towards him in later years. He’s a strange fellow with stranger tastes, but apparently he’s not quite the monster you thought he was. Let’s look for your next encounter with him.)
Jinx was fleeing in terror, running on all fours and stumbling, nearly falling over as his front paws buckled and hurt from the strain.
(Ow! Dammit, boy! Those are hands, not paws! Will you quit that? Ow! You can stop running now, he ain’t chasing you! I get the idea. Okay, let’s look for the next big trauma in the Jinx as a Kitten saga…)
Jinx had been waiting outside the door for hours, tormented by the wails of his mother.
(I hear spell-casting going on in there. What’s that crazy mage up to this time? Well, we’ll find out soon enough…)
When the door opened, Jinx cowered as usual out of sight, in case the man aappeared. His mother walked out, seeming dazed, and the door closed behind her. Jinx scampered up to her joyfully, but was stopped by a hiss. He stared into her eyes, finding no sign of recognition, and the longer he stared, the more fiercely she glared at him. Finally, she lashed out with bared claws and caught him on the side of the head, and he went down with a wail. She stood hostilely over him for a second, then turned and stalked off down the hall. Jinx lay where he’d fallen, his ear bleeding, and he began to cry. He lay there crying for a long time, wishing something would come and kill him. Nothing came.
(That’s terrible.) thought Mick. (I’m not sure I want to tell him about that one. I reckon the wizard somehow tampered with his mother’s memory, and she forgot who he was. It’s a pity he didn’t know not to stare into a wild beast’s eyes like that. It comes off like a threat. What happened next, I wonder? I’ll look ahead a bit. Okay, I’ll look ahead a bit more. Still nothing? How long did that boy lie there, anyway? Ah!)
Many hours later, Jinx saw his mother approaching. He didn’t move as she came up to him, and he shut his eyes, expecting to be killed. She licked him on the nose, and his eyes flew open, and he suddenly realized she knew him again. He was so relieved, and so exhausted from his ordeal, that he didn’t even get up until she grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and tried to drag him. He decided that his experience must not have been real, and tried to forget about it.
(Can’t say as I blame the poor little fellow. I wish I could leave off there, but I’m going to have to look at his last days in this wizard’s castle. I find it hard to believe that his father, perverted though he was, would have killed his mother. Maybe it was in one of those fits of rage? Hell, I’d better just look.)
Jinx sat staring at the doorknob. A strangled yowl came from behind the door, followed by a low muttering. The doorknob was a thing that the man used to open the door, but just touching it didn’t work, nor did pawing at it. Jinx reared up on his hind legs, which he’d gotten very good at doing, and clutched the doorknob with his hands, as another dreadful yowl came from the other room.
(That ain’t no love cry, and that muttering was very dark magic….)
Awkwardly, the doorknob turned. Jinx struggled with it, not knowing to use his wrists, dismayed at how far he had to turn it, as shrieks and incantations rang in his ears, and finally there was a faint click and the door began to swing open. Jinx exulted in his victory, and pushed the door farther open, looking in. He froze in horror.
(Lord! Jinx, don’t do anything! That man�’s in the middle of a very touchy…)
He saw his mother standing rigidly, moaning in pain. She seemed to have been flayed, but there was no blood. She was covered with the same sort of skin the man had, and her body was shifting and distorting, enveloped in a bright haze of magic. The man stared intensely at her, his hands forming patterns in the air, and as his hands moved, her body changed, forcing an agonized shriek out of her. Jinx, appalled, snarled savagely, readying himself to attack.
His snarl broke the wizard’s concentration. The man looked over his shoulder at Jinx, and as he did, the haze of magic flared and went out of control. The tigress screamed, her body writhing in the grip of the wild magic, and the man turned to her and struggled to control it, but too late: there was a bright flash and the haze was gone, and Jinx’s mother, in her original form, collapsed silently to the floor.
Jinx rushed up to her, but she didn’t move. Her eyes stared vacantly at him. He pushed at her, trying desperately to get a reaction, and she rolled limply onto her side. She was dead. For a moment, his mind went blank with shock, and then he slowly turned his head to stare at the man who had done this. He was staring at the floor, but at Jinx’s movement he raised his head. His eyes met Jinx’s, and widened in fear, and then Jinx was upon him, knocking him over, clawing at him with useless fingers, trying to bite him. As he tried to rip the man’s throat out, he heard strange words uttered, distorted by fear and strugglings but much like the chantings that he’d heard through the walls so many times…
Suddenly, Jinx was in a dark forest, at night. He didn’t know it was a forest, for he had never seen one. All he knew was that he was surrounded by huge, menacing shapes looming over him in the oppressive darkness. The man was gone. His mother was gone. The place he knew was gone. Even if he could find his way back, there was nothing left for him, because his mother was dead and she was the only good thing in the world. As the understanding of this sank in, all spirit fled and he no longer cared about the menacing trees around him. Maybe they would kill him. That would be kind of them.
(Whew… Mick, you’re not this boy, kitten, whatever he is. You want to live, and so does he, these days. But whatever you do, don’t tell him he caused his mother’s death by distracting that mage. Tell him it was an accident, which it was. I believe I’ve got what I came for, but so long as I’m here I’ll just scan through the rest of his life.)
Hunger finally forced him to get up and search for food, but he proved hopeless at hunting, for he had no claws, no fangs and no experience. He was nearly starved when he encountered the wolves, and the only reason he didn’t die immediately was that he figured out that he could throw rocks at them with his hands.
(That’s it, boy! Get ‘em! Hey, there’s a knight of some sort! With luck, he might help you chase away those… Hey, don’t look at him! There’s still wolves attacking! If you don’t throw another rock they’ll… Aaah!)
The wolf had snuck up behind him, and its jaws clamped onto his leg, dragging him to the ground. As he fell, the other wolves closed in, as did the even more frightening human. Jinx gave up and resigned himself to being torn apart and devoured by these creatures, but suddenly the air was split by startled yelps and the wolves were driven off, some on three legs or trying to drag themselves away with only two. The man leaned over him, his sword wet with wolf blood. Jinx tried to flee, but between starvation and his wounds he was unable to get up and could only wriggle helplessly. Dropping his sword, the man reached out and held Jinx down, preventing him from struggling further. Jinx tensed, his eyes locked on the man’s eyes, but the man did nothing but stare at him with a strange fascination, gazing with open wonder at his young tiger body and his furry but human hands, holding Jinx down with great gentleness. He petted Jinx carefully, speaking words Jinx could not understand in a soothing tone. He kept doing this, patiently and quietly, for a long time.
Jinx did not understand what was happening, but something in the man’s attitude reached the part of him that hurt worse than the wolf bites, the part of him that was crippled when his mother was killed. He finally stopped struggling, daring to believe that this man was not going to hurt him, and as the gentle voice and soothing touch continued, his longing surged and swept away the last traces of fear. He gazed into the man’s compassionate eyes in helpless, naked trustingness, and then he wriggled closer to rest his head in the man’s lap, and with that, he fell asleep.
When he woke up, his head was still cradled in the man’s lap.
(About time the poor little fellow had something nice happen to him. I’m not surprised, though. I saw the look in that man’s eyes. He’s a soft touch whoever he is, and that business of Jinx’s falling asleep in his lap was the final touch. Hell, I’d be a sucker for that myself. I imagine Jinx stayed with this fellow, but how did he learn to talk? Might as well look for that… Aha!)
“Jinx.” said the man, placing his hand on Jinx’s chest. “Say it. Jinx. I’ve heard you trying to talk.”
“Jigs.”
“Jinx. That’s your name. Maybe I can even get you to come when you’re called. Jinx.”
(I reckon he didn’t stop there! A little farther….)
“Okay, let’s try it again. Me Sir Irwin. You Jinx.” said the man, pointing alternately to himself and to Jinx. The young tiger did not respond for a moment, and then seized Sir Irwin’s pointing hand in a cautious grip. “Hand?” said Jinx.
“Well, I’ll be… Yes. Hand. How’d you pick that up, Jinx? I’m astonished.”
(I’m not,) thought Mick, (but then I already know Jinx is no ordinary beast. This fellow doesn’t seem to realize that he’s marvelled out loud over Jinx’s hands. After going ‘hands! real, working hands!’ like that, while holding them, it’s hardly surprising that Jinx made the connection. I think I’ll skip past the babytalk stage and find out if they talked about things later.)
“Okay, now say ‘Jinx belongs to Sir Irwin.’ Bad people scare you, you say that.”
“Jinx belongs to Sir-Irwin. What’s a belongs, Sir-Irwin? Jinx doesn’t know.”
“Doesn’t matter. Jinx says that, then people won’t hurt him.”
“Oh. Jinx belongs to Sir-Irwin.”
“Jinx doesn’t bite.”
“Jinx doesn’t bite.” repeated the young tiger, solemnly.
(Can’t say as I’m surprised. I figured he got trained like a semi-smart pet at first, and I was right. Let’s see if the conversations got any better a few years down the line.)
“You shouldn’t have scratched him, Jinx. That was very bad behavior. You see what happened, we had to leave, and now we’ve got to look for another place to stay.”
“Jinx is sorry!” said Jinx, miserably. “But he was staring at me!”
“That’s no excuse. Of course he’s going to stare at you. You have to act like a human even if people stare at you, or nobody will ever accept you.”
“You accept me.”
“I know. You don’t have to worry about me, you should worry about what other people think. If you had, we might not have been thrown out of that inn.”
“Jinx is sorry.” said Jinx miserably, and hung his head. They walked on in silence. Sir Irwin, noticing this, reached out and stroked his furry neck. “It’s okay, Jinx.”
(Why isn’t this fellow still with Jinx? He may be a natural born guilt expert, but he really cares about Jinx. Hmmm… What’s this?)
The battle was raging around Jinx, but he wasn’t going to budge: Sir-Irwin had tripped and fallen over, and Jinx refused to let anybody near. The young tiger hadn’t learned much about swordplay yet, but he was an image of savage fury, hissing and glaring at anyone approaching Sir-Irwin, who still hadn’t gotten up. The line of battle had receded, and while five minutes earlier Jinx had been hard-pressed to defend his spot, now the other battling knights were slowly moving off. Then, one of the knights Sir-Irwin’s friends were fighting glanced at Jinx and cried “Don’t bother, cat, nobody’s going to take your food!”
Jinx froze, then looked down for the first time, to see Sir-Irwin’s eyes staring emptily up at him, see the blood and terrible wounds, the rictus of death.
One of Sir-Irwin’s friends shouted, “Cat! Jinx! Whatever your name is! Come here and help! Avenge him with us! Our need is dire!”
Jinx could not stop looking into Sir-Irwin’s dead eyes. Slowly, his hand loosened, and the secondhand sword he’d been given dropped to the ground.
“Damn you! Coward! Coward!”
Jinx did not hear these cries. Blinded with tears, he wandered off, away from the fighting and blood and death, toward the inviting woods nearby. He did not stop until the sound of battle was lost in the distance, replaced by the senseless chirping of birds and the rustle of dry leaves. He sat down on a large rock and stared at the ground. His world, once more, was empty.
(Steady, Mick, this ain’t you. If only he’d made a few more friends! That’s twice now he lost the one person he had… What’s this? I’m losing the hex, something’s interfering…)
As Mick came back to the real world, he saw Elanor literally on top of Jinx, licking his face and desperately trying to rouse him. Jinx gradually woke, brushing ineffectually at her.
“What’s the matter, Elanor?” asked Mick. “Didn’t I tell you we were doing a regress?”
“Jinx, wake up! We have to go back!”
“What? Go back where?” replied Jinx.
“I found the lonely place!”
“Oh, good…” said Jinx vaguely.
“No, it’s not! It’s all wrong and scary, worse than ever! It’s mixed up and it keeps shifting and changing, and all the things are back! My friends are all scared, and everything keeps melting and falling apart…”
“What keeps melting and falling apart?”
“The lonely place! I told you!” snapped Elanor. She was trembling, on the verge of hysterics. “We have to go and help them!”
“You’re not going anywhere, pussycat!” stated Mick firmly. “Not until you’ve had that baby!”
“I can’t just stay here, Mick! Not when my friends are being hunted by things!”
“But, Elanor,” said Jinx, “you’re really pregnant! And what are we supposed to do when we get there, anyway?”
She fixed him with a gaze both pleading and unyielding. “We have to go help them!”
Jinx got ready to argue more, but he could see in her eyes that nothing he could say would change her. There was no point in arguing further. It would only upset her, and Jinx couldn’t bring himself to refuse her. “Okay.” he said. “We’ll go.”
“I’m going with you, of course.” said Mick.
“To take care of Elanor?” asked Jinx, as he threw travelling things into a sack. “Thank you, that might be a big help.”
“No, not just to take care of Elanor. You haven’t got the faintest idea what you’re getting into, do you? You haven’t got the faintest idea what you’re getting into.”
Jinx stopped packing and stared at him. “So tell me.”
“You’re liable to need me, even just to get into Rainmoor.”
“Why?” asked Jinx. “A door just opens up in the ground. The place thinks Jinx is its King.”
“You are, but from what Elanor says the whole place is becoming unstable. You do understand that Rainmoor is a plane? Or do you?”
“Well, people said so, anyway. What does that mean?”
“It means the entire place with everything in it could be destroyed.” replied Mick. Elanor shuddered, and Mick hastened to explain. “Destroyed isn’t putting it quite right, because the plane itself wouldn’t get damaged, but from what I know of Rainmoor things could get mighty nasty in there for people…”
“How?” asked Jinx.
“I’d rather not say, seeing as we’re all going there anyway. Or do you think you can talk Elanor out of it? Even if you could, I’d still need to go. I know one fellow who lives there, and I’d hate to see Rainmoor go chaotic while any friend of mine was in it.”
“Chaotic?”
“You’ll see. Fortunately, I do know some hexes that ought to work on Rainmoor’s physical structure. I promise you, we’ll need ‘em.”
“Do you have them with you?”
“No, so I’d better run home and get what I need. Don’t go until I get back.” said Mick, and scooted out the door. Jinx could see him jogging down the path toward his house, an astonishing sight: Mick never ran anywhere, so even this half-run was shocking to see. Jinx continued to pack.
“You’re bringing a pan?” snapped Elanor, exasperated.
“It’s a good pan! I got it from Mick!”
“Don’t be ridiculous! There’s lots of food in Rainmoor! You don’t have to… what’s this?” said Elanor, inspecting the sack. “Spoons?!”
“Look, Elanor, just because you don’t have to eat…”
When Elanor had been an Astral Guard in Rainmoor, her job had been to wander the Astral Plane, or ‘lonely place’ as she called it, and this made it impossible for her to eat normally, so part of the enchantment on her was to sustain her body while her mind roamed freely. She did understand that Jinx had to eat: what was irritating her was all the seemingly pointless things Jinx insisted were part of the process…
“I mean, were you expecting to go to a dinner party?”
“Elanor, cut it out! Why shouldn’t I want to keep on being civilized?”
“If you wanted to be civilized, why’d you leave Rainmoor in the first place? I wanted to stay, but you insisted on coming out here. What’s so civilized about living in a little house out in the woods?”
“Okay, okay! You’re right, Rainmoor was much more civilized than this. Anyway, we’re going back there now. Does that make you feel better?”
“No!” wailed Elanor. “It’s gone all wrong somehow, I just want to save my friends!”
Jinx’s annoyance melted away upon seeing how upset Elanor was. “Aw, kitten, we’ll save them. I promise. Mick’s going to come along, and he’s good with magic. He has a friend in Rainmoor he wants to save too.”
“Do you really think we can? And who does Mick want to save?”
“I don’t know, he didn’t say. As far as saving people from whatever’s happening, I don’t know what’s happening but we are going to try. What was it like when you found it? You said it was all falling apart, which sounds really bad.”
“Well, not exactly, but it’s going to. You know how, in the Lonely Place, you can see through all the walls a little bit? It wasn’t just that the scary things were all back, even the walls of all those caves wanted to fall apart. They were still there when I looked, but I could feel them trying to break up… they sort of fizzed… it’s hard to explain.”
“The caves weren’t actually falling apart? Not really?” said Jinx, relieved.
“Not yet.”
Somewhat less relieved, Jinx continued trying to pack, feeling like he ought to bring useful things with him. This was difficult, because he didn’t really own much anyway. There was his sword, such as it was, and the dining implements he wanted to bring. He found some rope and included that as well. He very nearly decided to bring the saw, axe, and other woodworking tools he’d used to make his house with, but the notion was clearly ridiculous…
“Jinx, could you give me a hand with this?”
It was Mick, and Jinx gaped at the number of sacks and satchels he struggled with. “What is all that? I never saw one person carry so much stuff before!”
Mick dumped it all on the floor with an assortment of thumps and clunks. “That’s why I was hoping you could help carry it.”
“But what is it?”
“It’s useful, that’s what it is. Seeing as we don’t know quite what we’re up against, I thought I’d better be prepared for anything. With what I have here, I can work any hex that I could have worked at home. I don’t think you know how much that covers…”
“It must be a lot.” said Jinx, impressed. Mick was so unassuming and easy to be with that Jinx tended not to think of him as a powerful wizard, but this was an eye-opener. It wasn’t just the tons of paraphenalia: Jinx had, on some level, expected that. Jinx hadn’t been expecting the assurance Mick was showing. The man had cast off his cheerfully bumbling country-mage persona, revealing himself as a still cheerful but very competent and powerful wizard. In other circumstances, this would have distressed Jinx, but at the moment he found it comforting.
“Are you ready to go, Jinx?” asked Mick. “We best get moving. I surely do hope you’ll help carry some of this, but if you’d rather not I’ll manage.”
“No, I’ll help.” said Jinx, swinging his own ridiculously light sack over his shoulder and reaching for one of the satchels.
“Uh, Jinx…”
Jinx nearly fell over, for the satchel was seemingly rooted to the floor. “What the hell is in that one?”
“Take this one, and this one, and this little one. Not that one. Oh, and this one, and this one…”
Jinx accepted the various bags as they were handed to him, asking “How did you ever lift it? I can’t believe you’re that strong…”
“No, it ain’t that.” said Mick, as he picked it up effortlessly. “It just won’t let anybody but me carry it, that’s all.”
They set out for Rainmoor mountain, and Jinx asked warily, “If you dropped that thing on somebody, would it squash them flat?”
“No, it would stick to my hand. I have to set it down on the ground on purpose to let it go.”
“Why?”
“Precautions, Jinx. This one’s got the really tricky magics in it, and it could be awkward if it got into somebody else’s hands. Dangerous.”
“How?”
“Well, it depends on whether the person was a mage or not. If not, very likely nothing would happen. On the other hand, a mage would figure out that there are power taps stored here. A really good mage would recognize that the energies are held in a mirror-image chaotic balance, which is a dynamic system that burns off its residual leakage by oscillation and inverted feedback…”
“Mick?” said Jinx nervously. “Please don’t talk like that. What does all that mean really?”
“Basically, it means that a dumb wizard who tried to use what’s in this bag would find it blew up in his face, taking most of the countryside with it.”
Jinx looked again at the satchel, dismayed. “Can we leave it behind?”
“We’ll be needing a unlimited source of power, sooner or later. More importantly, it’s a source of power that isn’t drawing on Rainmoor. That means we can depend on it if we get in a jam.”
“Oh.”
“I’m sorry, Jinx, I didn’t mean to scare you with it. Tell you what, here’s something that might take your mind off it. I never told you what I learned in the regress. Interested?”
“Yes. Did you find out why the wizard killed my mother?”
“Well, now, I’m not sure where to start. You don’t have to believe this right away, but it was an accident. He did not mean to.”
“Then why did he?”
“He was experimenting with her, and he lost his concentration.” said Mick, hoping he wasn’t telling too much. “The hex got out of his control, and he couldn’t get it back.”
“What was he trying to do?”
“That I can tell you. The man was incessantly trying to create a woman for himself, like sort of a cross between a tiger and a human. I’m not sure why he chose a tiger, but perhaps the size of the beast made things easier for him.”
“But why did he make me? I’m not a woman!” protested Jinx.
“I know.” remarked Elanor. “You’re extremely not a woman.” Now that they were headed for Rainmoor, she seemed less frantic and more confident.
“Well, Jinx,” said Mick, “he was expecting to make a female when he made you. I can tell you that it came as quite a shock to him when he realized his plans hadn’t worked out the way he wanted.”
Jinx glowered. “That’s not enough of a reason for him to hate me like he did.”
“Uh, Jinx…”
“It’s not!”
“He didn’t hate you, not really. That’s what he wanted you to believe, but it ain’t so.”
“What are you talking about? He kicked me and chased me and threw me away!”
“I know! I know! I went through all that, remember? I suspect I noticed some things that you never figured out. Where did your food come from?”
“My mother got it.”
“From where?”
“I’m not sure, she just did. She must have gone outside or something.”
“Jinx, I don’t remember seeing any doors to the outside in that castle. That’s typical for reclusive wizards, you go live in a well-defended keep of some sort and seal it off completely. He provided that food. There’s more. You remember he broke your leg? Or is that a blank to you?”
“I remember part of it.”
“What happened next?”
“I dragged myself out of the room…”
“No, I mean the next day and so on. What did you do for the weeks and months it would take for bones to knit, how’d you get them set properly? How’d you get around during that time?”
“What time? It got better soon, I don’t remember how.”
“His doing. He froze you, snuck up and healed you. He then gave you a pat and snuck back, all without letting you see him. Naturally, you couldn’t figure out what had happened, but there was no mistaking it.”
“Then why did he hurt me in the first place?!” protested Jinx. “He always did! Why did he act like that? I can’t believe you!”
“Now, Jinx…”
“Why?”
“Well, he had a nasty temper, and he wanted to be left alone. He would keep you around and feed you, but he did his best to make you fear him so you wouldn’t be in his way. He got his wish, but even so you managed to… to get in his way.” Mick shuddered, hoping Jinx wouldn’t put two and two together.
“Then why did he get rid of me? I mean, if he was keeping me around on purpose. I don’t know whether to believe you. It doesn’t make sense…”
“Keep in mind, Jinx, that he was a madman. Perhaps you might want to make some allowances considering he was sick in the head?”
“Why?” said Jinx, as that seemed like an awfully flimsy excuse.
“Anyhow, he got rid of you mainly because you finally jumped him. Do you remember that?”
“No.”
“Well, he didn’t have a lot of choice. You pounced on him and went for his throat, and even though your teeth aren’t suited for such work you made up for it with determination. You had his arms pinned, so he couldn’t use any gestures, and he had to fall back on a purely verbal hex that zapped you into the middle of a forest. Another minute, and you might have killed him. You were trying very hard to do just that.”
“I attacked him?”
“Viciously.”
“I’m happy to hear that. This regress thing wasn’t all bad.”
“Look, could you try and consider the possibility that this man wasn’t all evil? He had some dreadful faults, but I promise he ain’t the monster you thought he was…”
Jinx thought for a moment. “Maybe. Jinx would like to hate him some more, though.”
“Oh, Jinx.”
“What’s so strange about that? Can you blame me?”
“I reckon I’ll wait and see.” replied Mick evenly. “Depends on how hard you hang on to that hate, and how much you like it. It can hurt you worse than your father ever did, and you’ll never know it, because most of the damage will land on other people…”
“Look!” cried Elanor. “I can see Rainmoor now!”
Jinx patted her head, tactfully not mentioning that he’d been able to see it for some time, since his eyes were farther off the ground. “I can see it too, Elanor. It looks the same as it always did.”
“I’m glad it didn’t blow up or go poof or something.” she said. “I was afraid something like that would happen before we got there.”
They approached the mountain in silence. When they stood at its base, Mick inquired “Do you have a usual way of getting in, Jinx?”
“Not really. The door that opens up is around here somewhere, though.”
Before long, Jinx found the place, complete with small circular depression in the ground. When he’d first entered Rainmoor, he’d announced his presence by placing a magic rock in the little hole. It seemed like a very long time ago. He stared at the small hole in the ground in frustration: the ground wasn’t opening up before him this time. Perhaps it was because he didn’t have a magic rock.
“Mick, can you make a magic rock to put in this hole?”
“I surely can, but who do you expect to answer?”
“What do you mean?”
“That hole’s a doorbell cantrip.” said Mick. “I could spot it a mile away. I can ring the doorbell, sure, but who’s on the other side?”
“Nobody, probably. This leads to my old room. King-Thomas used it sometimes before he died.”
“Then why do you want to ring it?” asked Mick, exasperated.
“To open it. This is one of those Kings-gates, but it isn’t opening.”
“Hm! Jinx, it should be opening for you. You shouldn’t need to kick it to get it to work. This isn’t any too promising.”
Elanor was getting worried again. “It’s bad?”
“Rainmoor magic ain’t supposed to break down. Unless… Jinx, do you want to go in here?”
“Not particularly.”
“Ha! That explains it. Jinx, in order for a King’s Gate to open, you being the King have to want to go through it. You don’t have to be all that specific about where you’re going, but you got to make up your mind to go. If you want that Gate to open, come up with a reason why you want to get into Rainmoor.”
“Why? It’s Elanor that wants to go there. I don’t like the place much, and she said it’s going bad.”
“Don’t you have friends there? People you don’t want to get hurt?”
The Gate promptly began to open, as Jinx remembered Peter and Lord Sean and Julia and Michael the King’s-Page. There were indeed people Jinx cared about in Rainmoor. As the Gate opened, it shimmered faintly, and flickered in a irregular fashion that Jinx hadn’t seen before. Mick, noticing this, glowered at it.
“I hope that hesitation’s from you and not from it…” he muttered.
They entered, Elanor rushing in right away, Mick warily following her, and Jinx tagging reluctantly along. The first thing to greet his eyes was the bonfire in midair that King-Thomas had set up, and the sight was not reassuring. It seemed to have gone mad: rather than smoothly burning, it flared randomly in all directions, suddenly changing from a small flicker to a huge gout of flame that reached almost to the walls. The flames reached up, down, and to all sides indiscriminately, in shocking contrast to the way fires were meant to behave.
Elanor gave one horrified look at it and recklessly rushed past it to where her friends stood, frozen in place, trapped in Astral form. “Do something!” she wailed.
Mick wasted no time. Digging into a bag he was holding, he produced a handful of sand, throwing it at the blaze. As the sand hit it, the flame flared into angry whiteness and went out with a shower of sparks. With another handful of sand ready, Mick looked hectically around for other threatening things, then relaxed and carefully put the sand back into his bag.
“What is that stuff?” asked Jinx, impressed.
“Dispel dust.” replied Mick. “Good thing I had it ready, that was just the sort of thing that it’s meant for. It ain’t always safe to use, but there’s some situations that need it.”
Elanor was still with the rigid, frozen animals and birds, and Jinx and Mick hurried over to join her. None of the animals seemed to be burned by the flames, although the bear, being closest to the blaze, was singed slightly. With a start, Jinx noticed that Elanor had used her ability to enter the Astral Plane and had joined them. She stood like a statue, responding to nothing.
“Elanor!” he protested. He put his hand on her back, getting no reaction.
“Your callback ain’t working?” asked Mick.
“What call back? She’s not listening! She could come back by herself, but she won’t!”
“So callback her friends there, that’ll get her.”
“How am I supposed to do that?” protested Jinx, and Mick gaped.
“You don’t know how to get them back?”
“King-Thomas did, but he’s dead!”
“Oh dear. If those are Astral Guards like they look to be, they’ll be keyed to a particular person, and that person would be King Thomas. Seeing as he’s dead, we do have ourselves a little problem…”
“Throw some of that dispel stuff on them!”
“Hell, no!” sputtered Mick. “Unless you want them to have living bodies but no minds? We got to get them back first before we snap the thread!”
“Vernon!” exclaimed Jinx desperately. “Vernon would know what to do. He’s this dragon that lives behind that door there, and he knows these things…”
Jinx rushed to the door, flung it open, and stared in shock at an inky blackness, sprinkled with stars.
“Calm down, Jinx. This dragon, he’s done work with the Astral Plane of Rainmoor?”
“I don’t suppose it matters.” said Jinx, his energy draining away into futility. “He’s gone.”
“Take it easy, Jinx. Step away from that door, that’s it. Looks like that Gate’s gone out of focus on you, ain’t no dragon there.”
“He’s not there. Nothing is.”
“Well, all we got to do is tune it a mite, and that I can do for you. Could you recognize this Vernon’s home plane by sight?”
“I think so.” said Jinx, brightening a little.
“Tell me when you spot it.” said Mick, and fell silent. The stars visible through the door began to flash into different patterns, and suddenly changed to countless different scenes that switched over with blinding speed, far too fast to keep track of.
“How am I supposed to follow that? Can’t you do it slower?”
Mick blinked, and the scene settled on a bleak seashore with waves battering towering granite cliffs. “Do you have any idea how many planes we need to look through? Tell you what, just try to picture in your mind the scene we want, as vividly as you can. I’ll monitor that, and when I get an echo of it from the Gate I’ll lock it in.”
Jinx did so, and Mick fell silent once more, and the scene through the door became a roaring blur of images, switching with such furious haste that it made Jinx dizzy. He closed his eyes and concentrated on remembering Vernon’s cave, the shape of the walls, the rock of the floor, the hole at the top seemingly too small to let a dragon through, even the smell that hung delicately in the air, a sort of blend of flesh and hot metal, presumably from Vernon himself. Soon Mick said “That it?”
Jinx opened his eyes and found himself looking straight at the dragon’s huge head. Vernon gazed levelly back at him. “Oh, you’ve found new friends?” said Vernon.
“Please, Vernon, you…”
“I trust you’re ready to make an apology for shutting off the Gate to Rainmoor, Jinx. By the way, who’d you get to do it? I rather doubt you could manage it yourself.”
“What?”
“You shut off the Gate. Perhaps you didn’t know how these things work, and didn’t realize that casting me adrift in such a way made it virtually impossible to find my way back. The Gate cantrip is on the Rainmoor side, you know. None of it was left.” The dragon seemed distinctly annoyed, which was puzzling since Jinx had never seen him annoyed.
“Are you angry at me, Vernon?” said Jinx in a small voice. Mick watched this dialogue, frowning.
“Of course I am!” snapped the dragon, and Jinx had to duck a small gout of flame that inadvertently punctuated the dragon’s words. “Just when things were getting interesting, suddenly you forget about me entirely! I imagine old Tom is history now, which explains why he didn’t drop in, but couldn’t you have shown the common decency to…”
“Just a minute!” interrupted Mick. “Just a minute! Stop it! You’d better hear him out. That Gate going out of adjustment was not Jinx’s fault, and I dislike to hear a friend of mine spoken to that way.”
“Why should I hear him out? I’m already planning to shame and then forgive him, and hopefully he won’t let it happen again. And who are you, to talk so boldly to a live dragon? I must say I find it unappealing…” said the dragon, and trailed off noticing a small amulet Mick held firmly in his hand.
“Oh.” said the dragon, glowering. “I might have known. Sir, you need not clutch your blasted amulet so tightly. I can see it’s a dragonbinder, but you have no call to use it on me. I am not about to eat you, nor was I planning to. Don’t even think of trying to compel me.”
“Well,” said Mick, “it’s hard not to think of such things when a friend of mine is in danger.”
“Jinx? He’s in no danger from me. Never was. You, on the other hand, are the most irritating thing I’ve seen in years. It’s most annoying that you claim to be a friend of his, because I’d like to toast you for your infernal effrontery in bringing that damned amulet here. Seventh class, is it?”
“Eighth.”
“Splendid! I can handle that with no trouble.”
“I lied.” said Mick. “Twelfth. Try me.”
Jinx had been listening with increasing dismay as his two odd friends casually traded increasingly deadly repartee, and finally thrust his stripey body between them, begging, “Please don’t fight! At least help Elanor first, and let us out of this horrible place, and then you can fight if you have to…”
“Elanor?” replied the dragon, taken aback. “What’s the matter with Elanor?”
Mick seemed startled. “You like her, do you?”
“Of course! She’s a wonderful being! Now, what’s the matter with her? Quickly, man!”
Mick, impressed by the dragon’s obvious concern, explained. “She’s all right, apart from being pregnant and having absolutely no sense…”
“Pregnant?”
“That’s right. By Jinx here, of course. At the moment, she’s off in the Astral Plane trying to help her friends, and she won’t come back. Jinx here was hoping you could get them back into the real world, seeing as she won’t leave them. I expect I could get them back in time, but we’re a mite hurried.”
“Pregnant! And I never got to see her wear a bridal gown! I’m glad she’s all right.” rumbled Vernon. “But why don’t you ask the King to thaw her friends? Or is old Tom dead, as I suspected?”
“You’re looking at the King.” said Mick, with a gesture toward Jinx, who was too distracted to respond.
The dragon gaped incredulously, then burst into laughter. “Now see here!” exclaimed Mick, offended, but it was no help: they had to wait for the dragon’s chuckles to subside.
“Hoo hoo hoo… So it must have been Charles all along! Who’d have thought it? Of course, I’d thought of that, but… Those humans! They’re absolutely mad, you know that? And Elanor pregnant! Elanor, the Queen Mother! Hoo hoo…”
“Are you ready to help now?” asked Jinx.
“Oh, certainly… What’s this?” said Vernon, looking over their shoulders.
The cave wall was rippling, as if coming to a boil, bubbling more and more intensely. It began to buckle slowly, pressing inward and swaying outward again.
“Hell!” snapped Mick. “The place is going chaotic!”
“Step in here!” suggested the dragon. “I’ll cut the Gate loose from this side, I can do that…”
“But what about Elanor?”
“Run and get her.”
“And what about all the other people here? Peter! What about Peter?”
“You know Peter? The same Peter? Wife named Julia, good sense of humor, resigned from being a First Lord?”
“That’s right! Can you locate him? I can teleport him back to my own plane!”
“Certainly. Hm! You’re good.” remarked the dragon, as Mick dropped into a deep trance.
“What’s he doing?” said Jinx.
“It’s a teleport. He’s serving as a channel, and I just gave him Peter. Hm! He’s not stopping. He must want to be given more people. I’ll bring back the Astral Guards, they must be scared silly… There they go. This friend you’ve got is quite good, he still wants more. He must want to evacuate all of Rainmoor through his teleport. Think of people, Jinx, and so shall I, and never mind whether they’re friends or foes. Anyone we forget will very likely be lost…”
They stood, thinking of people and racking their tiger and dragon brains to remember strangers glimpsed briefly. Vernon ran out of people before long, because many of the people he remembered were generations ago, but Jinx kept at it, growing faint with exertion.
“Jinx!” snapped the dragon. “Think of me now! I can’t fit through this door and out that silly little tunnel!”
“But, Vernon, you’re safe there! Why don’t you want to stay where you are?”
“I wouldn’t miss this for the world…” said the dragon. “Wait, before you do, when you go snap your friend there out of his…”
The dragon was gone. Seemingly Jinx’s speaking with him had been enough to trigger Mick. The ceiling of the cave, which was once hidden by a fake magical starry sky, was folding up on them, yet it seemed to pay no attention to gravity, rippling and writhing in an eye-twisting fashion. Jinx prodded Mick, eager to flee this place.
“Get ‘em?” said Mick vaguely, returning to consciousness.
“Yes.”
“Good.” replied Mick, and fainted. Jinx swung the limp mage over his shoulder and made for the exit, which opened for him: all else might be failing, but this King’s-Gate still worked and this King badly wanted to get out. Alarmingly, the cave began to shrink behind him with sickening speed, and he made the exit barely in time. The front of the tunnel opened before him, and the collapsing cave behind flung him out as if it was spitting him out, and he and the unconscious Mick tumbled onto the ground.
Jinx got to his feet and noticed the huge crowd of people Mick had rescued. Elanor was back from the Astral Plane and moving around again, and he spotted one of the owl Astral Guards fluttering about. He saw no sign of the bear, which surprised him. Hugo, Peter, and Julia were standing nearby, and he spotted Sean, and Michael the King’s-Page, and Vernon’s huge gold-scaled bulk behind the crowd, and then Hugo strode forward and announced, “My liege! Our greatest thanks and deepest appreciation for saving all our lives single-handedly!”
Hugo turned to the crowd. “Three cheers for the King! Hip hip…”
“Hooray!”
“Hip hip…”
“I did not!” interrupted Jinx.
“Hooray!”
“Hip hip…”
“Not all by myself, anyway!”
“Hooray!”
Hugo turned to Jinx again. “What are your plans, my liege?”
Jinx had had enough. “I’m going home!”
Hugo turned again. “King Jinx has spoken! He shall lead us to shelter, as he led us out of danger!”
Jinx stared out at the crowd of beaming faces, appalled.
Jinx lay curled up on his bed, wishing he’d made more chairs.
The room was crammed full of his friends, even after he’d thrown all the extra people out. Hugo was the first to go, after he’d made a scene and forbidden Sean to sit in Jinx’s chair, claiming it was the nearest thing to a throne available. Jinx had lost his temper and chased everybody out, and then had to order his friends to stay, except for Sean, who’d simply stayed in the chair.
Peter and Julia sat on the floor, petting Elanor who lay between them. Mick also sat on the floor, seemingly amused at the way things had turned out. The King’s Page, Michael, sat beside him very quietly, nervous about the remaining friends: the ferret Astral Guard, one of the owl Astral Guards, and Vernon, who contributed the most to the feeling of crowdedness.
Vernon, of course, was not actually in Jinx’s house: he was nearly the size of Jinx’s house. He was, however, able to fit his head through the door with a bit of maneuvering, and laid it in the middle of the floor, taking up most of the room. “Tell me more about Elanor’s being pregnant, Jinx.” he said.
“Elanor’s pregnant?” exclaimed Julia.
“I’m going to have Jinx’s kitten!” replied Elanor proudly.
“Why, that’s wonderful, Elanor!” said Peter, but Jinx cut him off with “What happened to the bear Astral Guard?”
“Oh, Jinx!” wailed Elanor. “I don’t want to talk about him!”
“What? Why not?”
Elanor didn’t respond, and Sean volunteered, “I think I know which one you mean. It was making for the woods when I showed up, I don’t know why.”
“Him.” said Elanor. “His name was Bobo. I was staying in the Lonely Place to try and talk to him. He went crazy when the fire burned him. He didn’t make any sense.”
“You could talk to him? Can you talk to this owl and ferret, too?” asked Michael, wide-eyed.
“No, not any more.” said Elanor sadly. “We’re not in the Lonely Place any more.”
“Oh.” said Michael, confused.
“Does that bother you, Elanor? Not being able to talk to them?” asked Jinx.
“No, except for Bobo. My friends are safe. They’re here with me now.”
Jinx could understand that. He’d never before had so many friends together in one place, and it was a new and wonderful experience. Although his weary body, curled up on the bed, wished to go to sleep, he still stayed up and stretched the experience out a little longer.
“By the way,” remarked Vernon to Mick, “what is your name, anyhow? I never asked, largely because I was busy plotting your demise, but any friend of Monster’s is a friend of mine…”
“Mick. Who’s this Monster fellow? You talking about Peter?”
“Just our little joke, Mick.” said Peter. “My, it’s good to see you again!”
“And you.” replied Mick cheerfully. “And you. It’s been a terrible long time. You been keeping up your practice, now?”
“Oh, fairly well. I wish you could have seen my place in Rainmoor, Mick. I nearly wept to see it collapsing, it was a work of art…”
“You know each other?” asked Jinx, fascinated.
“This here fellow,” stated Mick, “came from Full Hollow. Wouldn’t think it to look at him, would you? Look at them clothes! Anyhow, he studied under me when I was younger.”
“Mick taught me most of what I know.” said Peter. “Rainmoor just put the polish on.”
“You don’t say!” remarked Sean, gazing at Mick with great interest. “So you taught Peter, eh? Did you teach Jinx that spell he saved us with?”
“Now, Sean,” said Peter, “it wasn’t Jinx doing that, no matter what Hugo might think. I’d recognize a Mick hex miles away. There was no mistaking it.”
“Don’t be critical,” said Mick sternly. “Jinx can focus better than anybody I’ve ever known, when he sets his mind to it. I may have been handling the teleport, but Jinx did most of the locating and fixing, and you saw the results. He must have gotten every last person he’d ever seen in Rainmoor. Between him and the dragon I ain’t sure anybody was missed.”
“What else would I do?” said Jinx, fighting back a huge yawn. Peter noticed this, and declared, “Come on, everyone, let’s clear out of here. Jinx deserves some sleep and privacy, after all he’s done. Tomorrow he’ll likely have to deal with Hugo again.”
Vernon agreed and carefully extricated his head from Jinx’s house, coming close to pulling the wall down but managing to get clear without damaging anything, accompanied by cheerful encouragements from Peter and Sean who were the least afraid of him. The rest filed out, and even the owl and ferret left, perhaps in response to some subtle non-verbal communication by Elanor (she nudged them firmly in the direction of the door.) Elanor climbed onto the bed, embraced Jinx, and they fell asleep.
“My liege!”
Somehow Hugo had gotten in, and was standing at the foot of the bed, averting his eyes. Jinx thought that a foolish thing to do: he and Elanor were not doing anything actively shocking. In fairness to Hugo, they were in a position that would allow such activity at a moment’s notice, and perhaps he dared not look closely. “What do you want?” muttered Jinx, trying to wake up.
“My liege, what do you wish us to do?”
Elanor stirred crankily, woken by Hugo’s resonant tones. “Go away!” she snarled.
He flushed. “Yes, Queen Elanor.” he said, and hastened out the door. She blinked, and looked at Jinx curiously. “Did I do that?”
“I think so.”
“Oooh! That’s nice! I can order people around now!”
“Well, don’t do it too much.”
“How much is too much?”
“I don’t know. We might as well get up now.”
“Right now?” said Elanor, wriggling her feline bottom against him. “Without even…”
“Elanor, behave!” snapped Jinx. “Yes, right now. All the people are out there, and I don’t know what they’re doing. Where did they sleep? Are they still there, even?”
“Oh, all right.” grumbled Elanor, getting out of bed. “They slept on the ground, of course. Wouldn’t you? Where else would they sleep?”
“They’re all humans, remember, except for Vernon. Humans hate to sleep on the ground…”
Jinx looked out the window, and there they were, spread out all over the lawn. They looked terribly uncomfortable, crammed together as close as possible to Jinx’s house, as if hoping he would protect them.
He noticed a man standing off at a distance, somebody he didn’t recognize, who seemed to be talking with Mick, or arguing. Jinx was out of his house and heading for them right away, with Elanor tagging along behind him. He wasn’t about to let Mick be hassled. The man became nervous as Jinx approached, but stood his ground.
“Jinx, meet Tim,” said Mick. “Tim, meet Jinx. Jinx is King, and Tim is Mayor of Full Hollow…”
“Damn it, Mick!” said Tim, alarmed.
“It’s all right, Tim, he ain’t going to come through levying taxes and such things. Fact is, he needs Rob to make him a new sword.”
“But how come he brought all his people out here? I got a bad feeling about this…”
“I told you, Tim, them’s refugees. Rainmoor went chaotic on ‘em, and they’re lucky to be alive. We got to be hospitable to them, it’s only right.”
“Well, I can see that. But, Mick, you can see my side, can’t you? We don’t have room for them. Ain’t houses to hold them for a hundred miles. Where are they going to go when it rains? They’re lucky it hasn’t rained so far. And who’s going to feed them?”
“I was hoping you could help out with that.”
“Mick! My farm covers a few acres. Ain’t no way it can support all these people. Tell me you’re kidding! You’re either kidding or even crazier than usual.”
“Neither one.” said Mick. “Neither one. I said ‘help out’, remember? There’s other things they can do. They can hunt…”
“Like hell! They’ll wipe out the whole forest! Mick, you can’t let them do this!”
“I mean hunt in other planes. These are Rainmoor people, remember, Tim? My guess is there are at least five of ‘em who can learn to tap this plane for power, instead of Rainmoor. Would be more, but Rainmoor spoils ‘em. It’s entirely too easy to be a mage in Rainmoor.”
“Can’t say as I’m all that surprised. Which five are you thinking of?”
“Peter, Victor, Aaron, Rebecca, and Vernon.”
“I never heard of an Aaron or a Rebecca.” said Jinx. “How did they get here?”
“I figure Vernon must know ‘em. I knew all of ‘em except Vernon.” replied Mick.
“How? Did you go into Rainmoor yourself?”
“No, but I keep track of rumor and I keep an eye out in other ways as well. Peter grew up here, so my knowing him isn’t surprising. Victor once tried to reach across the planes for my power tap. Wasn’t hard to stop him, but the sheer nerve of it was impressive. Aaron is the Aaron who did the basic work on the King’s Library, and I helped him with some of the details. He gave me a book for my trouble.”
“What sort of book?” asked Jinx.
“Any sort you like. Rebecca’s a special case, she’s been coming out here to visit every year or so for quite some time now. You’ve met her, Tim.”
“Aye. She’s welcome here.” said Tim. “Hell, I guess they’re all welcome here, it’s just a shock. They’ll be wanting houses. You’re sure they’re not fixing to set up estates?”
“I figure they mostly want to go home. It might be a while before they can do that.”
“Can they?” asked Tim. “Isn’t Rainmoor pretty wrecked right now? And if it isn’t, then what are they doing here?”
“No, Tim, you don’t understand. Rainmoor is perfectly fine. It happens to be in some sort of perfectly fine state that involves having its caves and walls shift and change in a way that would kill people. Therefore, the people had to get out. However, Rainmoor itself is unharmed. The trick is to somehow get Rainmoor back to a formation that people can live in…”
“How?” asked Jinx.
“If I knew that, I would have done it.”
Elanor had gotten bored and had wandered off during the explanations. Tim was staring past Jinx with a puzzled look, and suddenly he blanched and groaned “It couldn’t be…”
“What, Tim?” said Mick.
“They wouldn’t… It is! They did!” shouted Tim, and he rushed off toward a small group of Rainmoor people which Jinx didn’t recognize. The people were carrying a dead cow. Mick ran after Tim, and Jinx ran after Mick. When he arrived at the scene, Mick was trying to restrain Tim from attacking the Rainmoor people. One of them seemed to be a leader of some sort, and he ignored the outraged Tim, addressing Jinx.
“My liege, I am Andrew, and I represent the Rovers. As a token of our goodwill, and as a move toward future cooperation, we have found you fresh steak!”
“You’ve killed my bloody cow, you bastard! What am I going to do for milk?” cried Tim.
Andrew glared coldly at the unfortunate Tim, then returned his steady gaze to Jinx. “May I quell this peasant, my liege? His squeakings annoy.”
“May you what?” asked Jinx, at which Mick responded “No! Tell him no, Jinx, he’s asking if he can kill Tim now!”
“No!” said Jinx, shocked. “No, you may not kill him!”
Andrew’s gaze did not waver. “Am I to understand that you take orders from peasants, my liege?”
“I don’t want you killing anybody!”
“Ah. I had wondered what sort of King we’d ended up with, indeed was pleased at the news that the King was a savage tiger creature who went to roam the planes. I had thought this boded well for myself and my followers. Instead I find a peasant-sparing creature without any grasp of what it means to be a King…”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” said Mick, offended.
“A King must be powerful.”
“Oh? Compassion doesn’t count for as much? What do you mean, powerful?”
“My dear peasant, I carry on my person at all times the key to an abandoned museum in the depths of Rainmoor. If this museum survives, or can be restored by magical means, the key opens a chest in which is the armor of King Adrian, armor which, if worn by a King of Rainmoor, will defend against the severest physical attacks. This, combined with the existing protections against hostile magic, can make the King invulnerable. King Adrian had just finished constructing it, when he was stabbed in the back by a cowardly noble who did not wish to see Adrian attain his full Kingly status.”
“Get to the point!”
“By all means. I thought that, if King Jinx were worthy of this honor, I might present him with this gift, in exchange for a position as a trusted advisor. As King Jinx seems not entirely suited for the gift, I suppose I must consider other possibilities. After all, at the moment there are no First Lords, so he who slays the King…”
“Get back, Jinx!” yelled Mick. Sean appeared out of nowhere, between Jinx and Andrew. Jinx moved back one step, and walked into a large, scaly wall. Vernon had moved quietly up behind him, quite a feat for a dragon weighing several tons.
“I don’t think you ought to do anything rash, Andrew.” said Vernon. “In particular, don’t even think about drawing your sword against Jinx. I’d burn you to a cinder, with utter gratification. You’ve harassed me before.”
“He who slays the King, huh?” said Sean. “You’ve got some bloody nerve. Just try it. Go on.”
Andrew had not moved an inch. “I did not draw steel.” he said. “I was thinking of a duel of honor.”
“Go ahead and think.” said Sean. “Better still, go away and think. And don’t come back.”
“No. I shall not leave. I challenge King Jinx to a duel of honor.”
“Or stay and get killed.” continued Sean. “Honor? It’s nothing but bloody vanity, and you know it. What has Jinx done to lessen his honor, compared to you?”
“I will not serve a ruler who takes orders from peasants. This one here,” said Andrew, pointing to Mick, “seems to have the King’s ear. Until this is rectified, I refuse to leave this spot.”
Mick stared back with distaste. “Oh?” he said, and made a small gesture in the air, speaking a word in a strange tongue. Andrew stiffened, began to shudder as if fighting some overwhelming urge, and then proceeded to march unwillingly off through the crowd that had gathered to watch.
Mick watched him go, then turned back, shaking his head. “Peasant!” he muttered.
“That one makes the toadies look good.” commented Sean.
“What am I going to do about my poor cow?” said Tim.
“Ah!” said Mick. “Rebecca!”
A small woman with brown curly hair heard him and came over, saying “Mick! It’s so good to see you. I knew you were around here somewhere, since that teleport was your hex…”
“Rebecca, we need your help. Have you tapped into the powers of this plane yet?”
Rebecca wrinkled up her nose. “Yes, except for it almost doesn’t have any. Are you kidding? What else would I do? I’m probably going to have my work cut out for me, with all this upheaval. People who are thrust into a strange situation usually react either by getting hurt from carelessness or by starting fights. At least, the people I’m always dealing with do.”
“Are you ready to do a raise?”
“Oh, god! Don’t tell me they’re killing each other off already! Do you have a power sink I can tap? Yours ought to be solider than mine, it’s your plane.”
“Uh, I do have a tap but I can’t let you use it without a lot of practice. It’s too unstable. But you won’t be needing it. It wasn’t a person that got killed. This is what we need raised.”
“Oh!” said Rebecca, noticing the cow. “The poor thing! Who did that?”
“Andrew.” replied Sean.
“No, honestly? How typical! When in doubt, kill it. Certainly I’ll raise this poor cow. Hm! It hasn’t been dead long, that will help. Just leave me to it. It shouldn’t take more than a half hour.”
As they walked away, Mick confided in Jinx, “Half an hour, hell. She’ll have it up and around in five minutes. That woman is the most powerful healer in Rainmoor, she specializes at it. She don’t need my power tap.” He headed off in the direction of his house.
Sean said “Jinx, we need to get your friends together and do something about this emergency.”
“What, the cow?”
“No! Andrew. Those ‘rovers’ of his are dangerous, and he’s even more dangerous. I’m sure he’d love to be King. He gave it away, but that’s normal for him. He’ll let you know he’s going to do something, and then he’ll do it. I’m not going to just sit by and let him kill you.”
“Who are you getting together?”
“Me, Peter, and definitely Vernon. I heard him say they’d tangled before. Maybe Julia and that little page boy, what’s his name?”
“Michael.”
“Michael, right. I know he can’t fight, but he does like you and we mustn’t waste that. Hell, let’s even include Hugo. He’s frothing at the mouth to prove himself to you. I know how his mind works. When he looks at you, he doesn’t see a lot of stripey fur, he sees the crown, even though you’re not wearing it. He’s probably holding the crown for you. If you told him all loyal subjects had to walk on their hands, he’d be walking on his hands in a flash. Well, actually, he’d be falling on his silly head constantly, but you get the idea…”
“Is that why he left when Elanor told him to go away? She didn’t really mean it…”
“Did he? I mean, did she? Or is that ‘didn’t she’? I’m sorry I missed that. I’d have liked to see his face. Does Elanor realize she’s a Queen of sorts now?”
“I think so. What do you mean, of sorts?”
“Well, have you married her?”
“No, but she is pregnant. Does that count?”
“If word’s got out, yes. Somebody must have told Hugo. Everyone knew she was your consort, but if she’s carrying your child that adds weight to her claim.”
“What if it isn’t…” said Jinx, and left off, awkwardly.
“Isn’t what? Isn’t yours?”
“No, no! What if it isn’t a child?”
“I’m not sure I follow you, mate. Would you mind explaining that a bit?”
Jinx sighed. “Elanor was born a black panther, and I got sort of made by magic, but I’m mostly a tiger. I’m happy that Elanor is having my kitten, but what if he ends up being just a dumb animal? How could that count?”
“Huh? What do you mean, a dumb animal?”
“It depends on whether I’m a real person or just a sort of fake person.”
“Eh?”
Jinx tried to explain. It was a relief to finally say these things. “If I’m really just a big cat and not really a person, the kitten will be nothing but an animal. Vernon could put spells on him, but he’ll still show what Elanor and I really am. I’m scared of that. Elanor doesn’t understand. She keeps asking whether he’s going to have black fur or stripey fur, whether he’s going to have hands or paws. She doesn’t ask whether he’s going to be dumb or not, because she doesn’t think of that.”
Sean looked quizzical. “How is it that you don’t know these things, but you do know the gender of the kid?”
“Elanor got badly hurt, and Mick fixed her up. When he did that, he found out that she was going to have one kitten, which was a boy. We’re going to call him ‘Mick’.”
“Fair enough. Why don’t you go back and ask him? He might know.”
That sounded like such a good idea to Jinx that he immediately went looking for Mick. Sean, his curiosity aroused, came along. They found Mick in his house, and Jinx questioned him.
“I couldn’t tell you, Jinx,” said Mick, “I couldn’t tell you.”
“Please?”
“No, I mean that I don’t know myself. The sensings I did told me of the health of the child, and there’s an overtone that relates to the gender, which people like to hear about so they know what color to knit the booties. That I’m sure of. What you’re asking is harder. Her womb wasn’t damaged, so I couldn’t peek in and see the color of the little bugger’s fur, which might be purple and green for all I know. And your question about intelligence is even worse. Jinx, there ain’t that much difference between an animal mind and a person mind at that stage. You simply have to let it develop for a while. How could it be anything but blank? Ain’t nothing happening. Give it time. And try not to fret about it…”
“While we’re here, Mick, what do you think of that Andrew character?” asked Sean.
“Just ignore him.”
“You must not know him very well.”
“Well, as it happens I don’t know you very well either. You know him? Why is it I shouldn’t ignore him? I dislike to pay attention to annoying people.”
“He’s challenged Jinx to honorable combat. Then you forced him to walk off. I don’t know whether he’d consider that a breach of honor,” said Sean, “but I do know that he doesn’t make idle boasts. He’ll tell you what he’s going to do, and then he generally does it, no matter what stands in the way. Some of his people, particularly Gordon, are seriously dangerous…”
“Meaning they’re going to ambush Jinx somewhere?”
“He never said he was going to, and he probably would say so if he was. It’s that ‘probably’ that worries me. Andrew knows that if he kills Jinx he’ll become King, and that’s bound to put a strain on his honor. I still think he probably won’t kill Jinx treacherously…”
“Why are you talking like that?” said Jinx, offended. “I can fight!”
“No, Jinx, listen.” said Sean earnestly. “This one’s good. The Rovers are deadly fighters, and Andrew is possibly the best of the lot: him and Gordon. He normally isn’t interested in politics, but he’s thinking about it now. He apparently has Adrian’s Mail, or knows where it is. I thought that was a fable, but apparently it was true. Only a King of Rainmoor can wear it, and the only way he can become King is by killing you…”
“…and Elanor and the kitten.” finished Mick. Sean looked aghast.
“I forgot about that. He’s right, Andrew would have to get rid of the whole bloodline. Hell! We’ve got to find Elanor and convince her to keep her pregnancy secret.”
Julia appeared at the door, with Elanor. “Why would she want to do that, Mick?”
“Julia! You’ve got Elanor, good. Where have you been?”
“Showing off Elanor’s baby. All the consorts are in love with her now.”
Sean and Jinx just stared at each other.
Jinx studied Andrew’s people carefully. He could see why they were dangerous. Every one of them had that strange ease which characterized combat experts. They were unafraid. It was odd, since they were facing Jinx and all his friends, including Vernon and Mick, both of whom were ready to attack with flame and magic at a moment’s notice. Sean and Peter were likewise ready for anything, their swords close at hand, and their sheer tenseness told Jinx more than he wanted to know about the situation he’d brought about.
Sean and Mick were not pleased with him for that. Mick felt that avoiding the Rovers was the smartest thing to do, and Sean had offered to stand guard over Jinx and Elanor for as long as necessary. Then Michael, who’d been brought along when Peter and Julia were gathering Jinx’s friends to discuss the situation, had asked “But what do they want?”
“Power.” answered Sean.
“No,” said Peter, “they want a strong King.”
“Do tell!” replied Mick. “Jinx ain’t strong enough for them?”
“It’s rather awkward.” said Peter. “What Sean’s suggesting, that we guard Jinx, would be taken as a sign of weakness. On the other hand, if Jinx just goes about as usual, they might take him out. I wish you hadn’t hexed Andrew, Mick, that must have hurt his pride…”
“Good.” grumbled Mick.
“No, it isn’t.” continued Peter. “If it wasn’t for that, we could be fairly sure that they’d let it slide, since they’re so bored with politics. Now, we don’t know what they’ll do.”
“I should talk to them.” said Jinx. “What good will it do just talking about them?”
Michael perked up. “I’ll go and get them, King Jinx. Be right back!”
“Wait, wait!” said Mick. “Is that safe? Maybe somebody ought to go with him.”
“Course it is!” replied Michael. “One of them’s my father!”
Michael scooted off, and Peter explained to Mick, “Michael’s father is Keith. He’s been with them for years. Michael’s position as King’s Page was King Thomas’s way of buying the Rovers’ loyalty. They may not care about politics, but they do like a show of respect…”
“So the boy’s safe then.”
“Oh, quite. It also gives us an opportunity to learn their position. They may not have known that Michael was acting as page to Jinx. Now, if they’re dead set on killing Jinx, they won’t let Michael come back, and he’ll be with his father. If they let him come back, whether or not they come along, they’re less fixed in their plans. I think, personally, that we’ll be seeing Michael again.”
“Why?” asked Jinx, for Peter seemed very certain.
“Well, I hate to say it, but if they were really trying to kill you they’d probably have done it by now.”
Sean, listening, winced. “Aye.”
Michael had fetched the Rovers, and walked cheerfully over to stand with Jinx’s friends. Jinx noticed this, and commented to Peter, “Michael’s still with us.”
“Seems to be.” replied Peter, his eyes fixed on the Rovers. “I saw his dad whisper in his ear, though. They might be up to something.”
“But they don’t have any weapons!” protested Jinx.
“Bollocks.” said Sean quietly. “They could have knives on them. And, Carl there has mage talents. And, Rob, the one next to Andrew, can kill with his bare hands…”
“Stop it.” said Jinx, and stepped out toward the Rovers. Sean and Peter promptly stepped out with him, almost pushing themselves in front of him. Elanor also pushed forward.
“Stop getting in front of me!” snapped Jinx, exasperated. “Get back with the others!”
At that, Sean and Peter fell back, abashed. They still kept their eyes locked on the Rovers. Elanor didn’t fall back, she just looked up at him and said “You didn’t mean me, did you?”
Jinx didn’t bother to argue with her.
The Rovers seemed to approve, somehow, of the way Jinx and Elanor walked up to face them. Some of them even smiled a bit. Andrew did not smile.
“Why have you called us here?” he asked. Sean’s eyes narrowed, and the group of Jinx’s friends stirred uneasily at the obvious lack of deference.
“You say ‘my liege’ when speaking to your King!” blurted Hugo, outraged.
Andrew gazed levelly at him. “I am not satisfied of that yet, sir.”
“Of what?” snapped Sean. “He’s King of Rainmoor, and he’s alive. What more do you want?”
“Quiet!” said Jinx, annoyed. He turned his attention back to Andrew.
“My liege, this man is behaving disrespectfully!” said Hugo.
Jinx glared at him. “Are you going to let me talk? Or do I have to tell you to go away? Be quiet!”
“But, my liege…”
“That’s it!” snapped Jinx. “Go away! Now!”
Hugo wavered uncertainly. “But…”
“Now.”
Hugo looked helplessly around, and when Peter gave him a curt nod, gave up and wandered off, looking over his shoulder at the scene he was leaving every few seconds. Before long he was out of sight. The Rovers did not miss Peter’s signal, and their mood seemed to darken.
“Who rules?” asked Andrew, rather formally.
“What do you mean, who rules?” said Jinx warily.
“I’m asking you. Do you rule, or do you allow anyone who wishes to decide what to do?”
“Decide what?” said Jinx.
Sean, unable to restrain himself, answered “King Jinx rules Rainmoor, you conceited…”
“Shut up!” snarled Jinx, and turned again to Andrew. “Decide what?”
“For instance, decide whether your Lord Hugo is to leave or stay. Why does he look to Peter for this? Why does he not obey you, Jinx?”
“Because he knows you want to kill King Jinx and take his place.” said Peter levelly.
“You too!” snapped Jinx, fed up with people answering questions for him.
“You wish to answer my questions yourself? That is courteous of you.” said Andrew, and his tone made it plain that the courtesy mattered little to him.
“No.” snarled Jinx. “I’m going to ask you questions instead. What are you going to do? You don’t like my friends, and you don’t like me either. You want to be King for some reason, too. Are you going to try and kill me? My friends say that if you are, you’ll tell me so.”
“I have not yet decided.” replied Andrew.
“Are you going to try to kill Elanor?”
“I have not yet decided.”
Jinx bristled. “I don’t think that’s good enough. I think you should say that you’re not going to kill Elanor. Now.”
“Oh, really?” said Andrew. “I suppose it’s all right if I kill you?”
“No,” Elanor snarled. “It’s not.”
“Ah, but it would be so easy! We could do it right now…” said Andrew, at which Jinx’s friends began to shout, “Get back, Jinx! Get out of the way!”
“Shut up!” snapped Jinx, and turned back to Andrew. “You could do it right now, could you?”
“Of course we could. We have our weapons, you know, we just don’t have them drawn. It can be useful to have weapons that don’t show. You don’t have any for some reason. Perhaps you forgot them. I’d be perfectly willing to let you go get them, it’s only fair.”
“Get my sword.” said Jinx, without moving his eyes from Andrew’s.
“Jinx, no!” cried Julia.
“Get it!”
Michael scurried up with Jinx’s sword. The boy looked miserable. “Please don’t?” he said. “Please?”
Ignoring him, Andrew continued, “Is your Elanor going to fight as well? I rather doubt she could hold a weapon…”
Elanor bared her teeth in a silent snarl.
“Elanor.” said Jinx. “Get back with the others.”
“No.”
“Does this mean we’re to have two duels? Or are you thinking of both fighting me? Some might feel that such a thing would be dishonorable. My people might feel that such a thing would be dishonorable…”
“What do you mean, dishonorable? Us fighting all of you?”
Andrew blinked. “Come again?”
“I don’t care how many of you there are. If you hurt Elanor, I’ll kill as many of you as I can before you get me.”
“And if you hurt Jinx,” said Elanor, “I’ll kill all of you.”
Andrew was speechless for a moment. When he finally spoke, there was something different in his tone.
“Do I understand you correctly? You are ready to fight all the Rovers at once? That is your idea of a fair duel?”
“What do you mean, duel?” said Jinx. “You said you might try to kill Elanor. You said ‘we all have weapons’. I tried to tell her to get back, but she never listens.”
Andrew was speechless again, then said, “Jinx, a duel of the sort I asked for means one person fighting one person, not ten people fighting two.”
“It does?” said Jinx, who hadn’t had much experience with that sort of thing. “Oh. I thought you were just going to…”
“Just a moment.” said Andrew, seeming deeply moved. He turned to his people. “Rovers, what say you?”
“Hail King Jinx and Queen Elanor!”
Andrew turned to Jinx again. “My liege, command us!”
Jinx sagged, overwhelmed by the strain and the sudden, inexplicable reversal. He felt like the entire world had gone mad. “Go away!” he moaned.
Andrew lost no time. “Rovers, move out!” he said, and shortly the only ones left were Jinx, Elanor and their friends. Elanor had understood even less of what had happened, and continued to watch the Rovers tensely until they were all gone.
Jinx’s friends rushed up to surround him and Elanor, which was hardly what he wanted at the moment. They flocked around, cheering and enthusing over his courage and wisdom.
“You too!” wailed Jinx desperately. “Go away! All of you! Leave me alone! Except… is there one person here who can explain what just happened?”
They looked back and forth among themselves, and finally Peter stepped forward politely. “Will I do, my liege?” He, almost unnoticably, winked at Jinx.
“Yes. Everybody else go away! Go do whatever it is you do instead of bothering me. Now!”
The little crowd melted away like magic, leaving Jinx, Elanor and Peter standing alone on the spot where the confrontation had taken place.
“Is it over?” asked Elanor.
“I think so.” Jinx replied. “Everybody left.”
“Then I’m going to go home and take a nap.” she said. “Are you sure it’s over? I’m not going anywhere until you’re safe!”
“Elanor,” laughed Peter, “he’s never been so safe in his life! Jinx managed to impress the Rovers more than anyone I’ve ever heard of! Why don’t we all go back to the cabin, you can have your nap, and I’ll try to explain what just happened. I’ll lay you any odds you care to name that they have someone standing guard already!”
“They have someone what?” asked Jinx.
“Come on, I’ll show you…” said Peter, and they headed back to Jinx’s cabin.
Outside the cabin stood one of the Rovers, with his sword ready. Elanor laid her ears back at the sight, and Jinx gripped the back of her neck to try and restrain her, for she looked ready to spring on the man if he got in her way.
“Gordon!” said Peter happily. “My liege, this is a great honor: Gordon is among the best fighters the Rovers have.”
“That’s nice,” snarled Elanor. “Make him go away.”
Gordon seemed upset by this conflict of attitudes, and addressed Elanor first. “Please, no, Queen Elanor, I need to stand guard!”
“It’s okay, Gordon,” reassured Peter, “I shall be explaining things to our King and Queen. I imagine I shall have to be a First Lord again, as I’m in this uncomfortable position, but there’s no way around it. Unless you’d rather it was Hugo or somebody? And I hope you don’t object to my speaking informally with my King!”
Gordon winced. “If the King wants to listen to the counsel of Hugo, then we’ll have to live with it…”
“Actually,” said Jinx, “I’d rather he never got near me again. He’s annoying.”
Gordon brightened. “Am I ordered to keep him away, my liege?”
“Ah, King Jinx…” said Peter, “I would counsel you not to give any such commands until you have been brought up to date on the current situation…”
“Does that mean he isn’t?” asked Jinx. “Or did I already?”
“Please, may I, my liege?” asked Gordon. “He annoys me too!”
“No!” snapped Jinx. “Not until I understand what Peter’s trying to tell me!”
“Well, for starters,” said Peter, “if you command Gordon to do this, he will keep Hugo away from you at all costs, even killing him if neccesary. Am I right, Gordon?”
Gordon nodded, saying “But you haven’t ordered me to yet, my liege.”
“By the way,” said Peter, “you clearly have orders from Andrew to stand guard unless told otherwise. Might we know what your orders are specifically?”
“Well,” said Gordon, looking uncomfortable, “they’re to prevent anyone but King Jinx and Queen Elanor from entering this cabin. That includes you as well, but since the King wants to talk to you…”
Jinx had had enough. “Gordon!”
“My liege!”
“Me, Elanor and Peter are going to go in and talk. You can stay here and keep anybody else from bothering us if you want. Don’t kill anybody unless I say so. Oh, and tell your friends not to pick on Mick, because he’s my friend. Understand?”
“Yes, my liege!” said Gordon happily.
“Fine.” said Jinx, and promptly barged past Gordon into his cabin, followed by Peter and Elanor.
“Now, what’s going on?” demanded Jinx. “And stop calling me a Liege, Peter! I want you to call me Jinx, like you used to!”
“You hear that, Gordon?” called Peter.
“Got it.” said Gordon, and gave an odd whistle, calling a Rover to pass on the news.
Jinx collapsed in a chair, his tail twitching in agitation. Elanor, satisfied that Jinx was perfectly safe for the moment, ostentatiously ignored this and curled up on the bed, getting ready to fall asleep.
“Explain what’s going on,” said Jinx, “right now!”
“You’re getting the hang of it,” smiled Peter.
“No, when I say explain what’s going on right now, I mean that you should explain what’s going on,” said Jinx in exasperation, “not tell me I’m getting the hang of it…”
“I mean the ordering, Jinx, telling me instead of asking…”
Jinx gave him a look.
“Right.” said Peter. “Because of the situation that just happened, you will be expected to act like a King. You are expected to make the final decisions, and in particular, you ought not to look like you’re deferring to me or anyone else…”
“Deferring?”
“Your temper served you well there, you know.” said Peter. “You lost your temper and wouldn’t listen to reason, and since you were King we couldn’t very well disobey you… That would have only proven the falseness of your claim…”
“I didn’t claim anything!”
“I’m referring to your being King, Jinx. If you don’t like that, you’ve got problems, because in order for anyone else to be King, they’d have to remove the existing monarchy. That means you, Elanor, and the child.”
“Kitten.”
“Prince.”
Jinx shook his head violently, as if to clear it.
“I suggest that you get used to the idea, Jinx. One thing that would help is to make some First Lords again, whom you trust and who could help you learn what you’ll need to know…”
“Okay, do I need to use magic?” asked Jinx. “If I need to use magic I won’t even bother…”
“Actually, Mick would be able to help you there. As I understand it, if you’re satisfied with a candidate, a powerful mage like Mick could install the protections and links required.”
“Gordon!” called Jinx, “Go get Mick!”
Gordon appeared in the doorway, looking unhappy. “But, my liege, you’ve commanded me to guard this cabin!”
“Ah, Jinx…” said Peter, “I’ve summoned him already.”
“Oh, okay. Gordon, when Mick comes here, let him in and be nice to him! And would you stop calling me a liege?”
“Er, of course, er, Jinx.” said Gordon.
“You may wish to think,” said Peter to Jinx, “of setting up five First Lords, since that’s the ideal arrangement for the balance of interconnecting forces…”
“Okay.” said Jinx. “Gordon, have somebody else get Sean and… who was it? Rebecca. Tell them to be nice, and say I said so.”
“Of course, m.. Jinx!”
Gordon ducked back outside, and Jinx could hear him whistling for his listening friends. Jinx settled back to wait for the people to arrive.
“What do you mean, you won’t be a First Lord? Are women not allowed to be lords?”
Jinx was very frustrated. It seemed to him that if he was expected to be King, and order people about, it was quite insufferable of them to balk, and disobey, and confuse him further with complicated objections.
Rebecca looked apologetically at Mick, and Peter, and Sean. They had been Jinx’s first choices, and were already First Lords themselves in the fullness of the office thanks to Mick’s and Peter’s magicking. Mick had suggested Rebecca himself, in no uncertain terms- his words had been, “Now you’ve got to go fetch Rebecca- she’s the one you need. She’s the one you need.” while Peter looked on, his expression unreadable. Now, Rebecca was putting up unexpected resistance.
“Or don’t you like the other lords?” asked Jinx, the tip of his tail twitching in vexation.
“No, you don’t understand,” protested Rebecca, eyes downcast. “I do, but that’s just the problem. I like them too well.”
Elanor glanced over from the bed, ears quirked. “Does that mean having sex with them?”
This broke the tension, and all the humans laughed, vexing Jinx further- it seemed to him to be a perfectly reasonable question, and he snapped, “Well, does it? Why do you refuse?”
At this, two heads looked in the door, hearing Jinx’s angry tone- Gordon, who was guarding the door, and Andrew. Jinx blinked, seeing the latter. “What are you doing here, Andrew?” he said.
“May I enter, sire?” replied the Rover leader, in his self-possessed way, and Jinx nodded, trying to fight off the irritation- there were simply too many people around, which invariably made things too complicated.
Andrew entered, with a courtly bow, and answered, “I’ve been discussing with Gordon what you may require of us in the near future, sire…”
Jinx forgot Rebecca for a moment, and informed Andrew, “Stop calling me sire! I thought I told you people that I wanted you to call me by my real name!”
The man didn’t blink, but still gave the impression of being off-balance. “But one addresses the King…”
Jinx interrupted him, growling softly, “Do you think I’m not allowed to change that?”, and Andrew fell silent- and, shortly, replied, “Point to you, Jinx.” He seemed impressed, and a little disconcerted- an expression mirrored in the face of Peter.
Jinx turned to Rebecca again. “Why?”
She looked around shyly, at each First Lord in turn, and replied, “It needs to be more balanced than this. It wouldn’t work. I’m sorry, Mick! This must be your doing, but it’s wrong!”
Mick burst out, “It is not wrong! Maybe it’s the rightest idea to come along in a coon’s age!”
Rebecca unexpectedly appealed to one of the quiet listeners. “Peter, tell him! Make them understand.”
At this, Jinx turned in exasperation on Peter. “No, tell me! You’ve been keeping so quiet that you’re no help at all! What good is making you a First Lord if you’re not going to be any help?”
At this, Peter glanced at Andrew, seemingly with a shared thought, and Jinx, observing this, cried out, “Would you people please stop confusing me?”
Peter rose to the occasion, looking abashed. “I’m sorry, Jinx. The reason I looked at Andrew just then is that he understands why I’m being silent. I’m rather a strong personality, Jinx, and right now you need to learn how to be King without someone like me telling you every little thing to do. Andrew’s seen me doing that before, and he is right: it is no service to you, to turn you into a puppet King. So, I am trying very hard not to manipulate. We’re all feeling our way here, Jinx, not just you.”
Jinx nodded. “Thank you.” He thought a bit, and added, “You people, explain things that way! Stop being so damn complicated! But… Peter, why won’t Rebecca agree to be a lord? Why did she ask you to explain for her?”
“Because I know she’s right, Jinx. Sorry, Mick!” said Peter, forestalling an outburst from the country mage. “She IS right, and here’s why: you’re appointing all your personal friends as First Lords, and we’re much of the same opinions. That’s no good. What you are building here is called a cabinet- we are your advisors and your right arm and your administration, and we’re too alike. Rebecca would be a third mage, her and Mick and Sean would be three very informal types…”
Sean snorted, and Peter continued, “But it’s true, Sean- there isn’t enough variety. We haven’t any real aristocracy, we haven’t any fighting men…”
Jinx turned, and called loudly, “Gordon!” and Peter went silent, his face wooden. Andrew, as well, went wooden and stared at nothing as Gordon entered, looking about with his usual air of an unaccountably deadly puppy dog.
“Gordon, you’re a fighting man, and you’re supposed to be good at it,” said Jinx, at which Gordon brightened. “So I’d like you to be a First Lord. Mick there can set you up with the…”
“No!” cried Gordon, glancing around in dismay, and Jinx heaved a heartfelt sigh. Jinx looked sidelong at the tall warrior, now so distressed, and purred, “And why not? Please explain it simply as your King is having a very long and tiresome day.”
In the bed, Elanor snickered at his discomfiture. Jinx turned, stuck his tongue out at her, and returned his attention to Gordon. “Well?” His tailtip twitched as he waited for his explanation.
Gordon stammered. “Please don’t ask me to do that. Why don’t you get Hugo or someone who’s used to being a Lord? I’m a good guard. Why didn’t you ask my master Andrew?”
Jinx glanced at Andrew, who was doing the wooden-faced thing again. “Why should I? He doesn’t like me. He was ready to fight me.”
Gordon replied, “He’s a warrior, Jinx, and he does like you now! You impressed us all with your courage and you’ve begun to command like a true King.”
“He doesn’t look like he likes me. He looks like he ate something that’s giving him indigestion,” said Jinx, at which Peter interjected, “So would I be, Jinx- you’re humiliating him without meaning to. You’ve passed him over in favor of his subordinate and we’re all talking as if he’s not here. Andrew, do you in fact like Jinx now?” Elanor watched this exchange carefully.
Andrew cleared his throat and answered. “Jinx is a true King such as I’ve rarely seen. If he chooses to elevate my man Gordon I can only honor this, for I know Gordon is a good man. If my King so wishes, I will order him…”
Elanor, suspicious, interrupted him. “You’re not answering the question! For some reason you changed around completely. Do you LIKE my mate, or not?”
Andrew met her jungle eyes without flinching- but his eyes grew a bit misty. “My Queen, my Lady- I like and admire him more than I can express. He is a true, courageous creature, and he is honest like few I’ve seen. Yes, I do like him.”
Jinx’s head was almost dizzy from following the endless exchanges back and forth, but as he glanced Elanor’s way again, she nodded, considering this, and told him, “Pick that one. He’ll do,” and curled up comfortably again with her tail round her nose.
Jinx protested, “But Elanor, I thought you didn’t like him! You were gonna rip his throat out just the other day!”
Elanor gave Jinx a look, and purred, “He talks funny but he’s like me. Now that he likes you he’ll come in handy if you need to fight somebody. Pick him.” As Jinx looked around at the humans present, Elanor purred, “For heaven’s sake! Just pick him!”
Jinx sighed. “Gordon, you can go back outside now. Andrew, will you be one of my First Lords?”
“Yes, s… Yes, Jinx,” said Andrew sincerely, as Gordon scooted outside, much relieved, to stand guard once more.
“Fine,” said Jinx. “See Mick over there for the magic stuff.” As Andrew reluctantly approached an obviously disapproving Mick, Jinx thought out loud. “That’s four- Lord Peter, Lord Mick, Lord Sean, Lord Andrew, and now there needs to be a fifth…”
“Jinx!” cried Elanor, noticing that Mick and Andrew were facing off as if ready to fight, Andrew glowering and Mick readying his hands for some spellcasting if needed.
Jinx whirled on the two. “You behave! Andrew, go see Peter instead, he can do it. Mick, if you have a problem with the man take it up with Elanor…”
Rebecca suggested, “I might have a problem with him too if he carries on hurting the locals.”
“You’re the one who didn’t want to be a Lord,” said Jinx. “You’re the one who wanted someone different. Well, there you are, someone different! In fact, why don’t I go get Hugo and make him a First Lord too? Or Bobo, that bear who ran off into the woods?”
Andrew turned, and spoke calmly. “Actually, my l… Actually, Jinx, that is a very good idea. Some people mock Hugo but the man is stout and loyal…”
“He is fat, yes. Does that help?” asked Elanor.
“Ahahaha, my Queen,” said Andrew politely. “What I meant was this: Hugo exemplifies the aristocracy of Rainmoor, and his loyalty is beyond question. It would be expedient to elevate him, since your Cabinet represents all manner of folk excepting his. Do you concur, my Lord Peter?”
Elanor complained, “He’s talking funny again!” but Peter, repressing a smile, nodded and said, “Indeed I do, my Lord Andrew. I wouldn’t have thought of it, myself, but you have a point.”
Sean looked disbelieving. “You want to rub elbows with toadies?” to which Peter replied sharply, “Name one person more loyal to the King, Sean. And he’s another balancing factor. I must admit that I’m nervous about our informal character as a Cabinet.”
“Why?”
“Because,” said Peter, “we’ve got to get back into Rainmoor somehow. We can’t stay here. Rainmoor started to go chaotic when King Jinx left it, and I can’t be certain it will return to its stable existence if it has a King, but the whole cabinet are so unlike Hugo. For thousands of years Rainmoor thrived on royalty very like Hugo. It’s possible that it derives its form and stability from that…”
Jinx watched this discussion, interested and baffled. “So- what do we do?”
Peter smiled at Jinx. “If you trust my judgement, then you’ll appoint Hugo a First Lord, and we’ll have our five. Rebecca, what do you think of the man?”
She smiled as well. “A complete windbag, our Hugo, but he’s genuinely kind. Has a fearful desire for pomp and circumstance, though.”
Elanor offered, “He doesn’t like to look at me and Jinx in bed for some reason, but I can tell him to go away and he does it without complaining.”
Jinx considered all this, and said, “Bring him!”
When Hugo was brought before Jinx and the First Lords, he was quite overwhelmed and flustered, and he said, “My liege, what would you require of me?” on bended knee.
Jinx patted him on the head kindly. “I need you to be a First Lord so you can be pompous for us and know about aristocracy.” And then, as Hugo dropped on both knees in joy, Jinx added, “And you have to call me Jinx, not My Liege!”
Hugo stopped in mid-joyous-exclamation. “But I cannot, my liege!”
“Yes, you can,” said Jinx. “Try real hard.”
“One doesn’t! I beg of you, my liege, do not ask this of me! The weight of history may not lightly be thrown aside!” protested Hugo, to the obvious interest of Peter.
“Form and stability, hmmmm, Jinx?” said Peter.
Jinx blinked. “I shouldn’t make Hugo talk like a regular person?”
“Possibly not.” said Peter. “In any event, he doesn’t want to talk that way- and we want him because he’s sensitive to that sort of thing.”
Jinx regarded Hugo, who looked up at him imploringly. “All right- you may call me a liege all you want. Go and have Mick do the magic stuff to make you a First Lord, and we’ll be all finished.”
Sean muttered under his breath, “With this lot, we’re bloody finished before we even start!”
Jinx was fed up.
“I don’t care what the best matrix for resonating against the probability field of Rainmoor is! I don’t even know what a matrix is! And I don’t care if I never see the place again, do you hear me?”
“But Jinx,” protested Mick, “we gotta get these people back home! They can’t just live here. The land won’t support them.”
“And what do you expect me to do about it?”
“Now, nobody said it was going to be fair,” soothed Mick, “but you’re the focus point- if they’re ever going to get Rainmoor back, they’ll be needing you. They’ll be needing you. Happens that your leaving may have caused the probability collapse in the first place…”
“You’re blaming that on me now?”
“Well, I wouldn’t like to say blame,” said Mick, but Jinx had had enough.
“I quit! Or at least, I quit for today! I’m going for a walk and I don’t want to see any of you people here when I get back…”
Elanor ostentatiously ignored this, licking her paw to illustrate her complete nonchalance as Jinx headed for the door. When he was outside, he went to bang the door, only to realize he’d nearly whacked Peter- now First Lord Peter- with it.
“What do you want?” he asked Peter, brusquely, but didn’t hit him with the door yet.
The man replied, “What I want, Jinx, is to go for a walk too. Please, settle down…”
“So, go.” said Jinx, holding the door open for him.
Peter looked at Jinx quietly. “No- I meant, go for a walk with you. Julia and I missed you, Jinx. I haven’t seen you for months and months. How has it been for you in Full Hollow?”
Jinx sagged, realizing he wasn’t giving Peter enough credit. “It’s all right.” he said in a small voice. “…Jinx is sorry for being angry with you…”
Peter slipped deftly through the door, shut it, glanced over his shoulder warily and then hugged Jinx with great conviction. “Not a bit of it. Let’s have that walk…”
…
It was getting on toward winter, and the trees glowed in their autumn colors as First Lord Peter and King Jinx, technically of Rainmoor, walked half-trodden paths. Neither spoke- silence was their companion as they headed deeper and deeper into the forest, leaving the conflict and hubbub of Full Hollow’s unexpected new city behind them. The rhythms of nature took over- for the first time all day, Jinx could sense dusk approaching, the subtle connection to the surrounding world that had been knocked right out of him by Kingly demands. While he’d been surrounded by people, the world had become baffling, quick, and hollow- a posturing shell throwing up mocking flashes of meaning and then changing around completely in an eyeblink, to a pattern Jinx could not identify.
Now, finally, after little more than an hour of walking in the woods, the ocean of stability in which he lived began to seep back into him, like a momentary cool breeze giving him relief, reminding him that scant days ago his world was Elanor, his cabin, and his neighbor Mick. Had it been even a week since he’d met the shy hunter Alan? Where was Alan now? Surely he had vanished into the woods at first sight of the crowd of Rainmoor refugees. Jinx looked around, but knew it was futile. If he were alone, it might be that the wary Alan would show himself, if he were even in the area. But Jinx was not alone. Although his trusted friend Peter was even now silent, evidently appreciating the peace of the setting as much as Jinx himself was, the man was dressed in Rainmoor finery- no denizen of Full Hollow would approach him. With Jinx’s tigerish form frightening away forest animals, and Peter’s outsider appearance discouraging any Full Hollow denizens who might be nearby, the forest gave a picture of total solitude- a living solitude, one that had room for a person passing through it.
“It’s been good- up to now.”
Peter looked sharply at Jinx, and then realised this was the answer to the question he’d asked an hour ago, as they began their walk- a question that turned out to be so big that it took an hour of quiet walking to fully encompass it. He looked around, at the peaceful living forest, and back at his striped feline friend, and lifted an eyebrow. “Has it, Jinx? That’s wonderful.”
“It was. Can we not talk about that part?” asked Jinx, dejectedly.
They walked on, the brief exchange causing their moods to drift in contrary directions. Jinx grew more morose, and looked around as if he’d been sentenced to banishment and would never see trees again- he was weighted by the sense that his life had whirled out of his grasp once more, a sense of futility and disaster and loss.
Peter, on the other hand, was given furiously to think- his capable mind wrought with love and duty and sympathy. He had always been fond of Jinx- in other circumstances, the bipedal tiger might have become a cosseted pet. Instead, Jinx had become his King and master- but was still the simple creature Peter had met in Rainmoor, and no more happy about being in the place than he’d ever been. Peter suspected Jinx had never really been at home anywhere- and it was disconcerting to realize that, after succeeding to the throne of Rainmoor, he had gone off and found his home elsewhere.
“Jinx… please, can we talk about that part? I have to think that perhaps I can help.”
Jinx regarded his friend sadly. “What’s there to help? I’m glad you gave me a little time to be alone with my world before I go. Are you going to start confusing me again? Can it wait until we get back?”
“No,” said Peter, “I don’t think I need to confuse you. But it looks like you’re losing something very important, and I’d really like to know what it is. I think I may understand.”
“What does it matter? Your feeling sorry for me won’t change anything. I promise, I won’t run away again. I thought I could…”
Peter studied his friend, touched. “Could what?”
At this, Jinx’s eyes glistened, and he said, “Fit.” and turned away.
Peter couldn’t bear that, and gently turned the grieving tiger around to embrace him protectively, which snapped Jinx’s tenuous self-control, and for a while the King wept bitterly into the shoulder of his First Lord. Even while petting Jinx soothingly, Peter thought to himself, “…and is this so strange, really? It is just like having a child King…” except that the ‘child’ was a tall, powerful, wild creature, but still no more prepared for the duties of royalty than any child.
And so, thought Peter, my own duties must needs be not only counsel, but also support- and that, promptly, as we’re tearing Jinx away from what must be the only home he’s ever known.
He said, softly, “Can you tell me what you will miss, Jinx? You will have Elanor, and you’ll have me, and the others you care about. We won’t desert you. To us, you fit.”
Jinx thought, in spite of his distress. He wasn’t able to speak at first, but Peter did not rush him, and when he found his voice again it was steady and quiet.
“The woods are peaceful. But… not dead peaceful. Sometimes I’ve wanted to be dead because it would be peaceful, but I didn’t realize there was such a thing as alive peaceful until I lived here a while. Me and Elanor didn’t have any trouble, finding food or firewood or making our cabin. I thought that Elanor would frighten away all the animals, but I didn’t understand…”
Peter made an interrogative noise, gently, not wanting to stop Jinx but hoping to nudge him into speaking more, and, gazing into the middle distance with still-moist eyes, the tiger did.
“That was when I knew, you see. That was when I understood. Elanor hunted, and it made animals keep their distance, but not as far as I’d thought- and eventually I noticed that they made room for each other as well. I watched a squirrel get mad at a raccoon one day. The raccoon made a home for himself too near where the squirrel lived, and the squirrel cursed him out for an hour and then moved just a stone’s throw away- moved his nuts and things to where they’d be safe- and settled back down again. That’s when I realized they had done the same thing over Elanor and me- and I knew that we lived here.”
Peter nodded, thoughtfully, but Jinx wasn’t finished.
“Once I knew that, it started to sink in. I would go for walks in the woods and scuff my feet in the leaves to show I wasn’t hunting, and my fur is a bright color compared to other animals, and they would understand. I would hear the sound of birds and animals making space around me, giving me room without me even having to ask them. Sometimes I would get too close to an animal or bird’s home, and it would be upset and scream at me or try and lead me away from its nest, and you know what? I would go away and be sure not to bother it again. I must know twenty places now, where something lives. I leave them alone and they leave me alone…”
“Is that it? Being alone?” asked Peter.
“I used to think so,” said Jinx, “but there’s more than that. I don’t know how to explain it very well. It’s an alive peaceful, and that’s special.” He started to look rebellious. “What if I refuse to leave? I want to stay here.”
At that, Peter began to speak, and then stopped himself, and replaced the line of “you can’t” he was about to spin with a simple question. “What is so much worse about Rainmoor, Jinx, that you refuse to go to it?”
Jinx’s ears laid back, just hearing the question. “It’s out of control. It scares me, nothing’s real, and anyway it’s broken now. Can’t we find some better place to go? Why Rainmoor?”
“Because, Jinx- it’s yours.”
Jinx just stared at his friend.
“No, Jinx, I mean it. You are King. Rainmoor is yours now- in a way one could say it is you, now. Since you’ve rejected it, it’s breaking down in despair and frustration. We don’t know exactly what Rainmoor is, but it forms itself around thoughts. It wants to be yours, now.”
Jinx stared worse. “But I don’t want it! I just want my forest, and to be left alone!”
Peter said intensely, “It would make itself into a forest for you given the chance! You don’t understand what Rainmoor really is. It needs you, and it’s formed itself around your mind as best it could. Except, all it saw of your mind was you, leaving, and rejecting it completely…”
“I broke it?”
Peter hastily added, “No! Well, not exactly. It is you, now, as you were when you left it. But did you have the peace you’ve learned in these forests, when you left Rainmoor?”
“Of course not. I just wanted to run away from everything. I never had peacefulness until everything quieted down for long enough. A couple months of not seeing anybody ever, and then more months of only seeing Mick sometimes, and things were quiet enough. Peter, I don’t want to give that up.” said Jinx.
“I’m just trying to work out how you won’t have to, Jinx. Possibly we could make a forest-like place in Rainmoor for you? Historically, some First Lords greatly prefer a King who stays out of their way and lets them run things.”
“Andrew wouldn’t like that,” said Jinx thoughtfully.
“That’s very perceptive, Jinx, indeed he wouldn’t. But Andrew is not King. May I ask if you’ll be willing to try Rainmoor again? We’ve really no option, and at that we’d better be quick about it, because this land won’t support such a load of added people.”
“How am I supposed to try it when it’s broken?” asked Jinx.
“I don’t know! We’ll think of something. But you must.”
Jinx considered this, flat-eared and resentful. It was appalling- but there was a great deal of truth to it. He had the population of several small towns on his doorstep, and at that it was only those he and Mick and Vernon had been able to save. He hadn’t asked for his life to be turned upside down, but now it was, and Peter seemed willing to think of ways to make it easier on him.
Which of course led to the obvious question. “But… how? What can you even try to do?” asked Jinx. He stared hard at Peter. “You’re behaving like I could go there, and it looks to me like nothing could. You have to have some idea. Tell me that one, so I know what I’m in for.”
Peter sighed. “I was hoping I could gloss over that part and have you motivated purely on emotional grounds, though that is a daft notion considering how you detest the place. Jinx, it would have to involve magic…” and he trailed off, as if unwilling to even broach the subject.
Jinx lashed his tail, swatting Peter sharply on the leg and startling the man, and declared, “Why, look, Peter- I’m stuck with it! Why, my whole body is the result of it! Now I have to go run a whole… I don’t even know what it is, but it’s loaded with magic too! Maybe you need to tell me more about it, even though we both know I don’t like it.”
Peter regarded his King and friend in a new way. “May I ask why you are suddenly tolerant of the stuff? I had you pegged as loathing it.”
Jinx looked right back. “May I answer that I have no choice? …but that’s not the whole truth, really. Did you know that Mick saved Elanor’s life with magic? More than that, he uses a different sort…”
“No, he doesn’t,” said Peter, “it’s quite the same stuff. He what?”
“It seems different, Peter. It’s not all flash- the way he does it, there’s something more natural about it. Oh, and he made me use it, and it worked- we saved her.”
“Do tell! Jinx, you must tell me about this, I had no idea. You gave me to understand life here was quite bucolic, and someone was trying to kill Elanor? That’s terrible!”
“Something, actually. A little pig, she said.”
Peter blinked. “You’re joking. How could a… no, wait, I remember. She got in a fight with a wild boar, did she? And you and Mick saved her?”
“She reared up at it, which was a bad mistake, and it tore up her belly with its little horns…”
“Tusks, technically, and I can well believe it.”
Jinx nodded. “Mick said I did most of the work.”
“What, exactly,” asked Peter, “did you do? You haven’t the background for elaborate spellcasting.”
“I have some sort of King power that lets me heal my mate. It feels like water flowing down my arms when I do it. I did some of it, and Mick said she was dying and to shut up and heal, and I just shut my eyes and healed as hard as I could… and he said that was a lot. It did work…”
“There are times when you’ve had to resist magic, too- and you proved equal to that as well. I think it possible, Jinx, that you have an aptitude.”
“No,” said Jinx, “I feel fine.”
Peter chuckled. “Oh, come on! I suspect you’re teasing me. What I mean, Jinx, is that you’ve a natural gift for working magic. It may be thanks to your part-tiger brain for all I know- the important thing is, you’ve got the capacity for it.”
“Suppose that’s true.” said Jinx. “What, exactly, do you want me to do?”
Jinx stood helplessly in front of the small depression in the ground, where months earlier he’d rung the doorbell of Rainmoor, and a day earlier he’d broken in to rescue the people of Rainmoor. At the moment, it seemed a very unprepossessing little hole in the ground.
He wanted to turn and protest loudly to First Lord Peter, who was standing a bit behind him and to the side, but he did not even look up- instead, he stared at the small hole in the ground with great determination.
This was understandable, however, considering his surroundings. It was a nice enough spot, really, the bright morning casting cheerful sunlight on Jinx as he stood.
And on his First Lords, gathered behind him.
And on the entire refugee population of Rainmoor, who’d followed him to this spot.
And, behind them, the entire population of Full Hollow, who hadn’t had entertainment this interesting in years…
Jinx hissed sideways to Peter, “Who invited them?”
“Be fair,” said Peter, “they’re pretty desperate to go home. A lot of them haven’t eaten since they got here.”
“Why, don’t they like it here?”
“There’s no food, Jinx, we’ve been over that. Quite a lot of them wouldn’t know how to clean or dress game anyhow even if they caught it- and Full Hollow’s gardens wouldn’t feed this lot.”
“Our King will return us safely home!” declared Hugo.
“Oh, I will, will I?” snapped Jinx. “Mind filling me in on exactly how?”
Hugo fell back, flustered. “But… of course you will.”
“That’s the spirit!”, said Peter. “Now, try again.”
“Try what? I don’t know what I’m supposed to do!” protested Jinx.
“It’ll be something like using the King’s Gate, only, well, a bit more serious.” said Peter. Jinx raised an eyebrow at this, and the First Lord elaborated. “It’s… well… as Rainmoor is chaotic, you’ll have to visualise your desired state of it and force it to your will. Essentially, you’ve got to imagine Rainmoor up from nothing now.”
“Oh, is that all!” grumbled Jinx. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Look at all these people, Jinx, exiled from their homes. Look at me- my home was Rainmoor, and it’s lost now. We need your help. I am not kidding.” replied Peter, with gravity.
“But I don’t have a desired state of it, Peter!”
“Make one.”
Jinx turned back to the unresponsive hill- and fell silent. Nobody dared breathe a word… except…
“Is it working, my liege?”
Jinx whirled on Hugo. “Damn it, don’t do that! I almost had it!”
Hugo fell back a step. “Oh, I am sorry, my liege…”
“What were you trying to make it?” asked Peter. “Perhaps I can help.”
Jinx sagged in frustration. “The forest. I wanted it to be like my forest, of course. I thought I could feel it happening, just for a moment.”
“But, that’s an awfully demanding thing to attempt, Jinx.” said Peter. “And, though I say it, rather limited…”
“But Rainmoor is much better than a forest!” interrupted Hugo, in high dudgeon. “How can you prefer a forest to a plane of living magic?” He sighed. “Pray forgive me, my liege, I am frustrated and homesick. Can’t you be a good chap and lead us home?”
Jinx snarled, “‘S not my home. You want that place, well, you find it!” He turned away.
Hugo stiffened, caught between loyalty and outrage, and shut his eyes. He seemed tense, desperate. Then, Mick gasped.
“Peter, do you feel it? Do you feel it? The snobby bugger’s got a hold of something!”
“By God, Mick, you’re right- hang onto that feeling, Hugo! Hang on! He’s a First Lord, that’s what’s happening here! He’s resonating with it!” exclaimed Peter. “Jinx… Jinx!”
Jinx had begun to walk off, but he turned around at Peter’s call. “What do you want now?”
“For God’s sake come back here and try to open the gate now! We think Hugo’s got hold of it!”
“Let him do it, if he likes Rainmoor so much.”
“Damn it, Jinx, please!” hissed Peter, at which Jinx blinked in surprise. The assembled people of Rainmoor were beginning to get an idea that something was happening, and they stirred and whispered back and forth. Jinx began to feel an overwhelming desire to run home, to flee into the woods, except for some reason his head was filled with visions of caves and passageways bubbling cheerfully through strange substance that would conform to his imagination, mighty caverns and cozy nooks, and this overwhelmed his own wishes…
And as the First Lords shouted excitedly at him, pleading with him to come and help, Jinx murmured to himself, “It was true!”
It was all true- he was their King. All his people around him were feeling desperately homesick, and their yearning was so strong that he in turn felt it, even though it was nothing to do with him and nowhere he wanted to go- and as the whispering of the crowd grew to a roar, Jinx stepped up to the spot where he’d entered Rainmoor the first time, and looked around with an air of command, buoyed up by the excitement and belief of his people. He met Peter’s eyes unapologetically, glanced with a nod at Hugo, who was still deep in concentration, and then he turned to the entrance spot.
And as the crowd drew in its breath, King Jinx of Rainmoor lashed his tail in vexation, and addressed the empty air. “Okay, you dumb magic place…” he began, and then, with a roar- “LET ME IN!”
The air shimmered, seemed to crackle, and suddenly the ground opened up in terrible haste, and behind it, the kingly residence he’d inherited from his predecessor, flinging itself into existence as if it’d been caught undressed. Behind him, the crowd erupted in a cheer that was a single wild scream of delight from thousands of voices, that redoubled as additional gates began to open up all across the mountaintop where they all stood. Jinx stood, tailtip twitching, ears flattened against the blast of noise, haughtily still until Rainmoor had reformed itself completely, throwing open gate after gate to take in the wildly excited populace.
Then, King Jinx turned, and faced the masses, and in response to their long-treasured expectations of what Kings do, all the people of Rainmoor fell silent, staring at him, convinced that he was going to favor them with a timeless speech, tell them how to feel, sum it all up for them. Jinx looked out over the people with a glittering eye. His tail lashed, once, violently, but his gaze did not drop or turn away.
“Go home.”
The cheer was even more ear-mangling this time, and Jinx’s ears went flat again, but he didn’t look away. All at once, everyone was moving, mobbing the entrances scattered around the mountaintop. Amazingly, nobody attempted to enter Rainmoor through the Gate that led to the King’s chambers, except for Sean. Hugo was seen making for one of the other Gates, seeming dazed and overjoyed. Off to one side, the dragon Vernon dickered loudly with Peter, asking to be returned to his old cave, before he was interrupted by the woods mage Mick, who tried to give Vernon an amulet- at which the dragon recoiled, before it was explained to him that it was no dragonbinder amulet, it was a locator, and anytime he wanted to drop in- not on, mind you, not on, but in- he’d be welcome, he’d be welcome. The dragon appeared delighted, and informed Mick that he was a gentleman and a fine human, and the three huddled together figuring out how to transfer the dragon back to his own space- said huddle broken by the monstrous FOOP of Vernon vanishing and returning to his own home, after which Mick cheerily followed a group of Rainmoor refugees into one of the Gates, remarking that he thought he could do some fine things in such a willing place, and Peter shepherded some refugees through the gates, went and fetched some other refugees who were lingering to say goodbye to Full Hollow villagers they’d met, and turned as the last people were entering the Gates and as some of the Gates were beginning to close, remarking, “Thank goodness you found a way, Jinx… Jinx?”
“Jinx?”
Back in his cabin, in bed, Jinx trembled from reaction, pulling the covers up over his head and curling up fretfully, and he favored the Rainmoor refugees, his people, with one final benediction.
“…and stay there!”
Outside, the wind howled, whipping snow across Jinx’s small cabin.
Inside, a fire crackled, and Elanor, who had grown uncommonly huge, shifted uncomfortably in front of it. She fixed Jinx with an accusing gaze, and protested, “You never told me you were part elephant! Though I should have guessed.”
“Please, Queen Elanor,” said First Lord Hugo, “this is important.”
First Lord Peter gave him a speculative glance. “You’ve got much better at tolerating our Elanor, Hugo. Not long ago you’d have been cherry red at hearing such remarks.”
“Ahahaha, my Lord Peter,” replied Hugo, “one can but try. Anyhow, it’s hardly the first time we’ve had royalty that… well… Have you ever read the history of the Renellinian lineage, some two thousand years ago?”
“You know that sort of thing best, Hugo. Wasn’t that the bloodline that led to the crown temporarily passing to a small group of Lords?”
“And their dogs. Ahem. Anyhow, our Elanor, as you put it, is comparatively innocuous…”
“What?” interrupted Elanor. “Are you saying unkind things about me? Don’t you dare, I’ll have Jinx chop off your head! Jinx, go right now and hit Hugo for me!”
“No, no! I promise, Queen Elanor, I wasn’t saying anything unkind. Not about you, anyway. Ahem.” Hugo glanced nervously at Jinx.
“Settle down, Elanor,” said Jinx wearily. His black-panthress mate, never especially easy to manage, had become a holy terror in her advanced state of pregnancy, and it was some sort of mercy that as her mood became increasingly explosive, her body became increasingly ungainly, depriving her of the ability to get the jump on anybody. This, in turn, didn’t help her mood.
However, this time fortune smiled on King Jinx of Rainmoor, as Queen Elanor, easily exhausted and warmed by the fire, sniffled forlornly and tried to curl up and nap, succeeding with neither. Jinx would have felt very sympathetic, if he didn’t have greater troubles.
“I have called this meeting of the Cabinet,” continued First Lord Hugo, “in hopes of finding some answer to the problem that faces us…”
“Me, in other words.” added Jinx, with irritation. Behind him, First Lord Mick quietly went over to pet and console Elanor.
“My liege, it is not you. Our problem has to do with where you are, not who you are, sire.”
Jinx snapped, “I’ve visited the damn place three times! What more do you want of me?”
“No, listen, Jinx,” said Peter. “Hugo is right. We’re lucky we got Rainmoor back, just the way it was, but it failed the first time because you abandoned it. In all the history of Rainmoor there has never been an absentee King. We’re right to be worried, and you are placing us at risk by remaining apart from your home.”
“This! is my home.” hissed Jinx.
“We know that,” said Peter. “We’re not doubting it for a moment. But Rainmoor is a home- happens to be our home- and Jinx? It is yours. That makes it your home. P’raps not in quite the same sense…”
“So I’ll go and visit it again, all right?”
“We need you to go there and stay.” said Peter, and Jinx sagged, glowering resentfully.
At this, Sean turned to Jinx. “But surely there’s something we can do to make this easier for you? We’ve been over all this before and I’m sure we’re all sorry to take you from here, but… it’s just a house, mate. We all have to move on from time to time.”
“It’s real,” said Jinx sulkily, knowing that was an argument he always lost.
“So’s Rainmoor,” said Sean, “otherwise we couldn’t live there. Is it that you want to be uncomfortable?”
“What’s so uncomfortable about living in the real world?” said Jinx, to which Elanor promptly replied, “It’s cold out, there’s all that snow everywhere, the roof leaks…”
“It does not!” protested Jinx. “Not now, anyway.”
“That’s because everything is frozen! Why do you insist on staying here?” pleaded Elanor.
“Elanor, you have to stay at home until you have the baby.” said Jinx.
Elanor didn’t reply right away- but when she did, Jinx was shaken. “This isn’t home. It’s just where you are.”
“But…” said Jinx.
“And I love you more than home.”
All the First Lords looked back and forth between themselves in silence, abashed by the sudden honesty- but for Lord Andrew and Lord Sean, there was an edge to their glances as they realized the implication, and Andrew was first to say it.
“My Queen Elanor- may we ask that you come and live with us- in your home of Rainmoor?”
“Yes, and I’d love to, but I just can’t.” said Elanor sadly. “How can you ask me to do something like that? You mean, leave Jinx here and go away. Don’t be silly!”
“He already visits Rainmoor, Queen Elanor, and we must have royalty that truly values Rainmoor. If you love it, you’ll help to save it.”
Elanor didn’t know what to say. She tried to get up, but didn’t manage it- too heavy to move easily. At length, she said “I don’t like this. I have to leave my mate? And live somewhere else?”
Mick volunteered, “Actually, I was going to suggest it. You need to be near your doctor. It’s getting to be time. It’s getting to be time.”
Jinx looked back and forth between them. “It won’t work,” he said. “I’m still staying. I guess I’ll be visiting a lot more, though.”
There wasn’t a lot to say to that, and the meeting broke up amid a frustrated mood. Peter lingered, while others headed for the door, goaded by their King’s apparent hostility.
Outside, Andrew pulled Sean aside. “You’re more familiar with these mage types than I am, my lord Sean. Do you think it would work?”
“Me? Just because I rub elbows with Peter? You’re asking the wrong lad, Andrew. I know you don’t like Mick, but he’d be able to tell you. Or what about that bloke from your own troupe, Carl? Wouldn’t he know?” said Sean.
“Know what?” asked a tall, skinny man with black hair and hooded eyes. It was Carl himself, and Andrew remarked, “Speak of the devil! What on earth brings you here?”
Carl shrugged and replied, “I needed to track you down to settle some conflicts over practice schedules. Gordon’s refusing to practice with everyone again- insists on sleeping in.”
Andrew blinked. “That’s no reason to come out here and ask me. You’re his superior, Carl, you tell him. Lower his rank.”
“It already is,” said Carl, “he’s already a simple Guard. Any more, and we’d have to drop him from the Rovers entirely. And what was this I was supposed to know?”
“And we can’t do that, we’ve got to make some allowance for his martial virtuosity. All right, Carl, I will talk to him. And as it happens, it’s lucky you were here, as we have a question for you. Our King, as you know, refuses to live in Rainmoor proper…”
“Yes, and that’s a serious insult!” said Carl.
“Well,” replied Andrew, “at any rate it’s a serious problem. We’ve had him visiting from time to time, but that’s a stopgap measure. As it happens, Queen Elanor, who is living here to be with her husband, is greatly homesick for Rainmoor, and as she is pregnant, there is also reason for her to be near Lord, ah, Mick, who serves as her physician.”
“Are you asking what I think you’re asking?” said Carl.
“I am asking whether the stability of Rainmoor could be secured by our Queen Elanor’s residence there. She is not King- but she is royal by marriage, and genuinely homesick…”
Sean snorted with amusement. “I wouldn’t call it that. How would you posh types describe the truth? Royal by what, dalliance?”
A smile twitched the edge of Andrew’s serious expression. “That, my lord Sean, is hardly unprecedented. But you’ve made a point- we had better arrange a formal wedding.” Another flicker of smile- “Or at least an official one, our Royals aren’t the formal type.”
“I’ll say!” chuckled Sean. “Elanor’s slowed down quite a bit with her pregnancy though.”
“Thus,” said Andrew with a perfectly straight face, “reducing the chance that she’d try and consummate the wedding on the spot to no more than one in three.”
Sean laughed. “So we’d best move now, while she’s encumbered! What’s that, Carl?”
“I said, perhaps so.”
Andrew regarded him. “That sounds encouraging, Carl, but perhaps what, exactly?”
“Perhaps Queen Elanor can succeed King Jinx…”
“No,” reminded Andrew, “our King’s not dead. We’re asking if she can furnish stability to Rainmoor through being Queen, even though our King will not be resident.”
“That’s most improper.” said Carl.
“We are not concerned with that. All we are interested in knowing, is whether our home can remain stable through the residence of only one Royal. I’m surprised at you, Carl. Personally, I think it rather inspiring of our King to insist on living in the wild- it is only the problems this creates for us that I’m concerned with. Well?”
Carl didn’t reply at first- he appeared to be thinking hard. Finally, he spoke. “Yes- returning our Queen to her home in Rainmoor will resolve our problems. It may be just the thing to do. Yes, sir. I am certain this course of action will be for the best.”
Andrew clapped his thin, studious subordinate on the shoulder, startling him. “Well then! We’ll start arranging for the wedding, and before long our worries will be over! Come on, you lot- let’s head home.”
They set off, with Carl trailing them, apparently lost in thought. Inside the cabin, Peter glanced out the window, and addressed his petulant King.
“Jinx, you’d better think this over- for your own sake.”
“No. I still won’t change my mind, so you might as well let Elanor stay here, it won’t work. I got along without her for a long time, you know.” said Jinx.
At this, Elanor turned her face away from the two. Everyone else had left, and she lay alone by the fire. Peter gazed at her in dismay for a moment, and then lost his temper. He strode over and caught Jinx’s hand in a stern grip, ignoring Jinx’s protests, and hissed with silky anger, “Do you see what you have done?”
“No! Let go of me, Peter!”
At this, Peter led Jinx over to the fire, and with unyielding firmness pulled his hand down, wiped it across Elanor’s face, and released it. She didn’t object- and then Jinx realized his hand was wet, that his mate was weeping bitterly in silence, and the bottom dropped out of his world. He understood Peter’s anger now, but he was horribly at a loss to understand how he’d brought things to this pass.
“Oh.” said Jinx.
Peter continued staring at him- perhaps with a bit of sympathy now, but still unyielding. He seemed in no hurry to explain things to Jinx, instead leaving the hapless tiger-King dangling in his misery without a word of support. Finally, Jinx couldn’t stand it any longer, and yowled, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! But… what did I do? What do I have to do to keep this from happening any more?”
Peter sighed- but there was more than a touch of sympathy in it. “Grow up, Jinx. It’s time.” He sat, heavily, facing Jinx. “Did you realize that until a moment ago, there wasn’t a single thing on your mind beyond yourself? Rainmoor? It meant nothing so long as you got to stay in your cozy home. Your mate? You were ready to let her leave you if you couldn’t get your way. All of us didn’t matter a tinker’s damn next to your selfish wishes. Is that still true? Does getting your way still seem that valuable?”
Jinx sniffled, but didn’t reply.
“And no,” continued Peter, “right now it doesn’t. But do you see what happened to you? There are people you care about, things you appreciate, you’ve got a life now- but you don’t know how to have one, and for a while there, in your imagination we all played out little roles and did what you wished- if we didn’t behave as you expected, you had an explanation for that too, and Jinx? It was rubbish. I saw you as Andrew talked to Elanor. Your ears went back, Jinx- it’s not so hard to get a sense of your mood as you might think. Andrew asked Elanor to come home- to her home, which isn’t here. She as good as said that she stays here for love of you, but she understands what will happen to Rainmoor if we can’t stabilize it, and she’s ready to save it- and you took it as a rejection! She’s carrying your child, she’s going to be a mother very soon if I’m any judge- do you think that this mother cat wouldn’t protect the things she cares about even at great cost to herself?”
“I’m safe enough here.” said Jinx weakly.
“No- you are the cost, Jinx. You won’t go to the aid of Rainmoor and its people, never have- Elanor must. She knows it. She has once already when we evacuated Rainmoor, and is ready to do so again even if she must give you up to do it. It breaks her heart, but I don’t see her arguing with me, do you? In many ways she’s far more adult than you are. And so she should be, now that she is a mother.”
And when Jinx found nothing to say to this, Peter finished him off with an angry outburst- “And what is your response? Oh, you say, I got along without her for years!”
At that, Jinx wept himself, like a child, helpless before the knowledge of his unforgivable faults. “What do I do?” he sobbed. “Tell me how to fix this!”
Peter’s gaze was troubled. He took Jinx’s hand. “But I’ve told you- grow up. That’s a lot to ask of anyone, but I think you’re ready to- I promise, it will help. For now, Jinx, I can say two things, and then I think I’d better go and leave you two alone.”
Jinx gave him a stricken look.
“No, you’ll have to sort it out for yourselves- but it’s not as bad as you think. First- you must somehow come to terms with what you are, King of Rainmoor, and you must rejoin it eventually. You didn’t ask for that, but there’s no avoiding it this side of the grave.”
Peter’s voice softened. “Second- until you’re ready, Elanor will fulfill your responsibility. She will go to Rainmoor in your place, and that ought to work. If you can understand why she’s ready to do that, you will have grown up- but until then, understand that she does love you, Jinx, very much.”
At that, Peter cleared his throat, uncomfortable. “I’m not much for these little talks, Jinx. Julia and I have not had children, and I haven’t much practice. But I suppose one learns by doing… just as you do… my liege.”
With that, Peter rose, and departed, closing the door gently behind him, leaving Jinx and Elanor alone.
Silence fell, but before it could build up for long, Elanor said in a clear if forlorn voice, “Jinx, please, please come and hold me.” Feeling deeply unworthy, Jinx did just that, hoping he could somehow make things better, stop Elanor’s crying or at least his own.
Instead Elanor sniffled, began to speak, shuddered, and sobbed, “I’m going to miss you so much!” And at that, she wept worse than ever, and Jinx wept with her- but, while he didn’t understand, he did believe her. Eventually, Elanor fell into an exhausted sleep. Much later, Jinx slept too, still confused, but somehow still believing her.
The room was just as bad as Jinx remembered it.
Jinx never knew who’d thought of it, but the Great Hall in Rainmoor was entirely distressing to be in. Here he’d been made a Lord, here he had killed King Thomas’s assassin and become King himself, and here he was to be married. Jinx wondered if he was to die in this room, as had his predecessors.
It was a very large room, but seemed larger. The walls were perfect mirrors, extending up high into the air to join at a central point, and at each corner was a shaft of white fire, illuminating the room brightly. Before he’d entered, the central point had been hundreds of feet above everyone’s heads, the reflections producing the appearance of an enormous sphere. But, as Jinx knew from alarming experience, when the King entered the room, its geometry changed- that central point raced upwards to infinity, creating the appearance of the sphere expanding to an infinite plane.
One could stand either state, but watching it go from one to the other was enough to make Jinx want to hide, and when he padded into the Great Hall he squeezed his eyes shut, knowing what would happen. As he entered, up shot the central point, and all around him the illusion of the gigantic sphere expanded with sickening rapidity. When Jinx was sure he could pretend he was standing on a limitless plane, he opened his eyes again. None of the guests seemed to notice.
Elanor was nowhere to be seen, but then it had been explained to Jinx that he wouldn’t see her until the ceremony itself. He didn’t like this much, but he knew better than to expect such things to make sense. Still, he looked around, seeing who was there. The hall was quite full- most of the Rovers were present, all the First Lords, many other people Jinx had never met…
In the distance, a sandy-haired man with flashing, vividly green eyes was staring at Jinx with a look of desperate entreaty. The man gestured frantically, and was lost to sight behind a crowd of other wedding guests. Jinx blinked, and began to rush to the fellow’s aid- only to halt in disarray, nearly running headlong into the mirrored wall.
Jinx whirled, attracting attention from the guests. Hugo, nearby, asked, “What is the matter, my liege?”
“Where is the green-eyed man? He needed to tell me something!”
“Yes, my liege?” said a man with deep green eyes, walking up curiously. He was red-haired and bore no resemblance to the image in the mirror.
“Not you… Can everyone stand still for a minute, please?” asked Jinx, who was determined to find this man. “Please stand where you are.”
Jinx paced about, looking at everyone, but there was nobody present who looked anything like the man who’d gestured. Finally, he zeroed in on a small group. “You would know- I recognise your clothing and your looks. You’re the ones who blocked him. Did you see a man with green eyes and sort of blond hair? He was gesturing like this.” With that, Jinx waved desperately and lashed his tail and laid his ears back in a picture of agitation. “Um… except for the tail, he didn’t have that.”
“But we didn’t block, my liege, begging your pardon.” said a very abashed lady whom Jinx had seen the green-eyed man disappear behind. “We got right out of your way immediately! Didn’t we, Roger?”
At this, Jinx froze, a fact noted by Peter, who’d approached. “What’s this, J… my liege?” he said, in deference to the sensibilities of the wedding guests.
Jinx blinked at Peter. “I was standing right there. He was right next to me, how could he have been gesturing frantically from across the room? I thought I came up on the mirror awful suddenly.”
“Eh?”
“Peter, there’s someone here who wants to see me, but he’s gone now. Did you see him? I’ve never seen such green eyes. He was a tall man with sandy hair- dressed in green as well, and his clothes looked very fancy, with gold stuff on them.”
“Good God. I think you’ve described… ah, my Lord Andrew! Just the man. Don’t you take a particular interest in Rainmoor history? For instance, that key you carry?” asked Peter.
Andrew was in a black mood, though he spoke levelly. “My Lord Peter, my liege- I have a complaint about just that.”
“Well?” said Jinx. “What’s the matter?”
“Someone has tugged at that very key.” Andrew now carried it in a tightly clenched fist. “In fact, the chain I wore it on was broken. I am not accustomed to such violations of my person.”
“I should think not, Andrew.” said Peter. “Who was fool enough to try that?”
“I don’t know!” snapped Andrew, and immediately calmed himself. “I didn’t see the thief. I would like license to track the thief down and punish him, my liege.”
“Surely you’d do that anyhow?” asked Peter.
“Yes, but it’s good manners to ask.” said Andrew.
Jinx considered this. “Yes. Go catch him but don’t kill him. I want to ask him why he did it. But before you do that, Peter wanted to ask you something.”
“Yes indeed! Andrew, can you describe King Adrian?”
Andrew blinked. “Of course I can. As it’s his Key I guard, I took a natural interest in learning about him. He was a great warrior, fair, and a grand researcher. His reign was from the years…”
“No,” interrupted Peter, “what I mean is- what did the man look like?”
“Kingly.” said Andrew. “He was tall, with fair hair. Unlike the kings of the day, he cut it rather short. It is said he had shockingly vivid green eyes that are not properly represented in paintings- in any event, he didn’t sit for paintings often and there are only two extant. He liked to dress in green, both when hunting game, and brighter green for courtly functions, which he considered symbolic of his love for the hunt…”
Peter and Jinx were looking at each other, and Jinx cut the man off. “I’ve seen him.”
“…you what?”
“I’ve seen him. Just now. Just as you described- and he wanted to tell me something. He waved frantically, but then he vanished.”
Andrew seemed stunned. “Adrian? Here? The ghost of Adrian is trying to see you?”
“That’s what it looks like.” said Peter. “We can check with a painting of King Adrian to see if that’s really who Jinx saw. But why here, why now?”
“Don’t you think that is obvious?” said Andrew. “Someone has just tried to steal my key! That was Adrian’s key! The chest that contains Adrian’s Mail is lost, but if it were found it’s this key that would open it. My liege, the ghost of King Adrian must have been trying to warn you against this theft!”
“Easy, Andrew.” said Peter. “Nobody blames you, and you still have the key, haven’t you? There’s one thing that puzzles me, however. Someone tried to snatch the key from you?”
“Tried hard enough that the chain parted,” said Andrew. “I’ve got to find out who could be that quick. They were lost in the crowd immediately.”
“Well, Andrew, I’ve been able to see where you were standing for the last half hour, and I can tell you that there was nobody fleeing, in the crowd or not. You’re sure it wasn’t someone standing next to you?”
Peter’s wife, Julia, wandered up cheerfully. “So good to see you again, Jinx. What’s going on here?”
Andrew considered, and replied, “Quite sure. A fighting man learns to take in the state of an opponent’s hands at a glance. I whirled, and there were no hands near me that were holding a weapon- and no hands that appeared to have just made a snatch for the Key.”
“Oh, my goodness,” said Julia. “Not the Ghost again? I thought Elanor had chased it away.”
“That’s it!” cried Peter, turning some nearby heads. “It may have been the Pickpocket Ghost. Surely you’ve heard of that, Andrew?”
“I don’t attend to gossip.” said Andrew, rather gruffly. “What’s this?”
Julia explained. “There’s a Rainmoor ghost known for picking pockets. It likes keys, but it can’t hold them. It’ll dig a key out of your pocket and then drop it. Or it used to, until some years back when it disappeared. Could it have come back?”
“That’s not all, Julia- Jinx has seen the ghost of King Adrian! We think it may have been trying to warn him of the attempt on Andrew’s key. It was originally Adrian’s key, you know.”
“How exciting!” said Julia. “I.. oooh!”
All conversation stopped, as Elanor entered the hall. She padded softly, a bit awkwardly due to her advanced pregnancy, but it was difficult to tell because of the astonishing clothing she wore. The black panthress was swathed in filmy white, and pulled behind her a silky train that seemed almost weightless. Her expression was a curious mixture of “Isn’t this fancy decoration I’m wearing, the envy of all to behold?” and “Ye gods, when can I get out of this ridiculous getup?” and this belied the incredible skill of the dressmaker, who had somehow managed to translate the concept of a flashy wedding gown into a gown for a four-footed temptress.
Seeing it, Jinx immediately understood why the dragon Vernon had once chortled at the thought of Elanor in a wedding gown. Seeing him, Elanor immediately turned and began heading towards him cheerfully, in spite of First Lord Hugo’s protests of “No, no, my Queen, over here!”
“No,” retorted Elanor, “he’s over here, can’t you see?” She joined Jinx, Peter, Julia and Andrew to the accompaniment of good-humored chuckling from some of the wedding guests. “Isn’t this pretty, Jinx love? If only I was a better shape I could leap about and it’d look like a flying cloud. Now, can we get this over with so I can get off my paws and go lie down, please?”
“We’d better,” said Jinx. Peter was openly smiling, and Hugo, who had elected himself the master of ceremonies with little argument from anyone, was frantically trying to beckon the bride and groom to the front of the hall.
When he’d succeeded in enticing the couple to their positions in front of the crowd, Hugo took a deep breath, as if preparing himself for lengthy pronouncements. Seeing this, Jinx glanced at Elanor, who was trying to scratch her ear with a paw well-tangled in gown, glanced back at Hugo, and lifted an eyebrow.
Hugo exhaled, deflated. “How short should I make it, my liege?”
“Short.” said Jinx and Elanor in unison, and Elanor shifted on her sore paws, grumbling.
Hugo cleared his throat. “We… that is, I… um, On this day, er…” and, showing uncharacteristic shrewdness, cut to the chase. “Do you, Elanor, take Jinx, King of Rainmoor, to be your husband, through better and worse to the end of your days?”
“Of course. I did that long ago. I mean, look at me!” said Elanor, but Hugo had already moved on.
“Do you, Jinx, King of Rainmoor, take this w… take Elanor to be your wife, through better and worse to the end of your days?”
“I do.” said Jinx solemnly, and meant it.
“Then I now pronounce you m.. hmph! Pronounce you man and wife.”
Hugo retired, flustered at his inability to come up with a good-sounding way to say ‘I pronounce you bipedal tiger thing and grossly pregnant lady panther’, and Jinx kissed his bride. At first he intended Elanor to come up onto her hind legs and kiss him like people, but she was too heavy and absolutely refused, and he had to go down to meet her, and even then all they managed to do was bump muzzles foolishly- but none of it mattered, the crowd cheered delightedly anyhow.
Jinx shot a glance at the far horizon, knowing that this hall tended to become unstable when Rainmoor was unhappy. At least, things that displeased the magic of Rainmoor produced ripplings and shiftings of the mirrored walls, and this could be seen plainly by looking off into the distance. At the moment, ‘not seen’ was a better description- the hall seemed ostentatiously solid and stable. Jinx tried to look for the green-eyed man in the distance, but quickly decided that it was too disturbing trying to look for things in the distant multiple reflections of the mirrors. What if you found them?
After Elanor was comfortably returned to a state of nap, Jinx pulled Peter aside again. “Supposing it is this King Adrian- what should I do?”
Peter scratched his head. “I’m not sure, Jinx. We could try to look into that for you. I suppose it depends on what he wants. Andrew should be on guard now, I would think, so perhaps King Adrian’s accomplished what he was after- though that leaves the question of why he’d be a ghost in the first place.”
“Is he going to be able to find me at home?”
“I guess you’re wanting to get out of here pretty badly, Jinx? I honestly don’t know. My guess would be no, but I can’t swear to it. I think he’s fixating on you because you’re King. Outside of Rainmoor, you’re still King.”
“Then he can come looking for me, because I’m going home.” said Jinx.
As Julia approached them, Peter glanced disapprovingly at Jinx. “You’re not going to stay the night? Really, Jinx!”
“No, I want to go home. Why?”
Hearing this, Julia hastily said, “Of course, understandable. Peter? Come with me now…”
As she led Peter off, Jinx departed in his quick, silent way, plainly eager to get home and away from all the fanciful Rainmoor scenery around him. Peter turned to Julia as the Great Hall automatically shifted back to its ‘sphere’ state on the King’s exit. “Julia, what is the meaning of this? I ought to pull his whiskers out, tie a knot in his tail or something. He’s not going to give Elanor a wedding night?”
A subtle smile played across Julia’s lips, and was gone. “Darling, she’s too far gone to really enjoy that sort of thing- but I needed to tell you, I was just with Elanor. She could probably use our support- she’s crying, but determined. She knows perfectly well Jinx is going home tonight.”
“You don’t say. Do you suppose they arranged it? I do know he’s miserable here…” said Peter.
“I’m not sure, but I don’t think so. I think she just understands him very well. She’s quite brave. Come and help me hold her paw, because she’s set on staying here for the good of Rainmoor. She seems to understand that part quite well but she hasn’t even got a home to speak of. The King’s rooms were never changed from when King Thomas lived there, and naturally she doesn’t feel like that’s really hers.”
“No, I suppose not.” said Peter. “I daresay we can help with that. I’d still like to wring Jinx’s neck…” He glanced around cautiously, but nobody was listening. “…though I suppose that’s no way for a First Lord to talk. Hugo would wring mine if he knew I was talking this way.”
Julia smiled. “You come along and help me comfort Elanor. And don’t be so stuffy when you’ve no idea what you’re dealing with. Elanor isn’t the one I’m sorriest for. Come, Peter.”
It was quiet in the cabin when Jinx got back. More snow had fallen, covering the tracks leading to his door with a disguising layer of white, making it appear that nobody but him had set foot here- which suited Jinx fine, as he opened the door, shoving snow out of the way with it, returning to his private place.
The fire had gone out. Jinx sat for a moment, and then got up to relight it. There wasn’t any firewood handy- Elanor, greedy for warmth, had got very adept at grabbing firewood with her teeth, deftly tossing it onto the fire from a safe distance, and then making a cute disgusted face at the taste of the logs. She’d tried to convince him to strip the bark off, but listened to reason when Jinx explained that the bark worked as kindling. Jinx had learned to brush dirt and crud off the logs before bringing them in.
Jinx got up, and went outside, bringing in more firewood, and not brushing crud off the logs. He dumped the wood by the hearth, and frowned as crud from the logs spilled over the hearthstones, which had been tidy. He debated whether to light the fire first, or to sweep up the crud, and settled on the latter.
He swept up the crud, and put it into a rubbish bin made of a hollowed-out stump. It was that, or fling it out the window- and it was winter, and there was glass in the windows keeping out the cold. Not very well- Jinx hastily lit the fire again- but reasonably well. It was one of the more useful byproducts of mage talents- smelting glass and making it into panes wasn’t too difficult. Mick had made the glass for Jinx’s cabin, from sand that Elanor picked out.
The other reason for not flinging rubbish out the window was, he’d done it once while Elanor was passing by outside. That was what really stopped him. It was hard luck for her that he’d been cleaning and gutting some rabbits, and checking which vegetables were making that smell- the rubbish he’d flung was quite a bit worse than firewood-crud, more in the way of garbage. It was hard luck for him, very few seconds later- she’d tore around the house, raced in, bit him, and cursed him out for the next five minutes, mortally affronted. She was so offended, that late that night it took half an hour of diligent coaxing, petting and teasing before she would…
Jinx stood up abruptly. Then, he sat down again, and poked the fire in a desultory manner. Then, he got up again, and decided that he’d got up the first time because he wanted a cup of tea. This sounded like a fine idea, and he padded quietly over to the kitchen area, filled the kettle with one of the water jugs, stopped to empty out Elanor’s generously sized water bowl and dry it and put it away in the cupboard, got his favorite mug, and returned to the hearth.
It seemed as if the firewood had shifted. Jinx regarded it cautiously, and then set the kettle onto an iron swing-arm contraption he’d got from Mick, and moved it over the fire. It would be some time before the kettle boiled, and Jinx stared into the flames, his mind wandering.
It was good firewood- Elanor wouldn’t complain- naturally not, as she wasn’t there, but had she been she still wouldn’t be complaining of it. Not too smoky, and this batch of firewood was reasonably free of those loud pops firewood sometimes made. Jinx was nervous of those too- there’d been times when a fierce bang and shower of sparks from the fire had made them both bristle in alarm, and then hug, giggling at their mutual skittishness…
Crack! Jinx jerked, startled, and stared at the fire as the wood gave out with a sharp report. He blinked. It looked just as if the sparks had formed letters, just for a moment. “WARE”, it had said- or seemed to say.
Jinx was more startled to notice that the kettle was coming to a boil- how long had he been sitting there staring unseeing into the fire? He deftly plucked it from its position over the flames, and padded into the kitchen area to make his tea.
It was good tea, too. Even though Jinx had usually relied on Mick a great deal for amenities, and Mick was the one who went into town to go shopping, the hedge-mage proved to have fine taste in tea and foodstuffs, and had come up with a delightful tea, ruddy in color with a stained-glass clearness and hints of fruit in its flavor. Jinx reminded himself that he would have to ask Mick where he got it, because now Mick too was living in Rainmoor. He seemed to be happy with this- always fond of Peter, he’d taken to Sean as well, and apparently had struck up a friendship with Vernon the dragon that belied the hostility of their first encounter. Now, Mick and the dragon tended to get into arcane thamaturgical discussions that not even Peter could follow, and Vernon was hanging around Rainmoor more than usual. Jinx had heard him explain to Mick that it was thanks to the large numbers of likeable short-lived creatures such as Mick and Peter and Jinx, and that when they died he would lose interest again. Mick had had the perspective to see this as a compliment.
Jinx carefully sipped the last of his tea, and tipped the dregs out into the sink, and placed the mug in the sink for later washing. Out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw a shape in the bottom of it, and when he looked, the dregs of the tea leaves said “WARE”. Disturbed, Jinx shook the mug violently, dislodging the rest of the dregs, and padded back over to the fire. He sat, looking into it, for a minute, and then went and fetched the heavy blanket from the bed, wrapping it around himself.
It was comforting, and Jinx began to relax a little, though he peered about nervously, and started at sounds, thinking they came from outside, not certain how to react to the inexplicable words. He thought he caught a glimpse of green out of the corner of his eye, but when he looked, there was nothing there. The warmth of the fire and the blanket began to soothe him. It smelled of Elanor. Jinx fancied he could still make out the scent of her randy times, even though it had been some time since…
A knife flew by his head.
Jinx jerked back, looking wildly around, but there was nobody there. A motion caught his eye, and he tried to take cover as another knife appeared, floating into view, and then flung itself at him, only to bounce off thin air and land in a corner of the cabin.
The air crackled and roared, and then there was a howling noise and commotion outside the window, and the sound of something running off into the distance.
Jinx gave in to his deepest, most heartfelt instincts- grabbing his blanket, he rushed over to the bed, briefly tried to hide under it even though he didn’t fit, and then got in bed and hid under the blanket. A bit of his tail stuck out, but he was too frightened to notice.
Nothing happened for a while. Then, quietly, a form began to take shape in the air- a man dressed in green, with flashing, vivid green eyes and an elegant crown. He stood, favoring Jinx with a worried look, glancing briefly over his shoulder with a fierce glare in the direction of the departed intruder, realizing he was wringing his spectral hands and promptly reaching some sort of decision.
The ghost of King Adrian turned and left, fading away and striding off at the same time. He reached the door, and opened it before he remembered he wasn’t alive. On realizing this, his hand passed through the doorknob, and the door hung open, letting the snow swirl in as he faded from presence.
Jinx stayed under the covers all the rest of the night, the neglected fire eventually sputtering and failing. It wasn’t until dawn that he was able to get to sleep.
“Different how?” asked Elanor, perplexed.
“You name it!” said Peter, encouragingly.
“Name what?”
“Peter’s trying to tell you that we can change this whole place around, Elanor.” said Julia. “Have you ever thought about how you’d like your home to be?”
“Not really. I lived here with King Thomas, and then I lived with Jinx in that little cabin, and I would rather be back there except for this place needs me. Or so you said…”
“Well, yes, it does.” said Peter. “And we’re very, very grateful that you’re willing to do that for us, and we’ll work on getting Jinx here too, we promise. But for now, how would you like this place to be?”
“What do you think Jinx would like? I like it just the way it is. Except for that stupid fire in the air.” said Elanor.
“Easily fixed!” cried Peter, and gestured with his hands, with an air of concentration similar to a man using an old familiar chainsaw. The floating fire, which had always been a key decoration in the King’s quarters, shrank, sputtered, and went out with a little puff of smoke that expanded outward in a neat sphere, and then was broken by the air currents that the fire had kept in motion.
“Peter, do you think we can give her the power to remodel this place herself?” asked Julia. “It is hers, after all.”
“You know, I’m not sure. It’ll be attuned to her, anyhow. The question is whether she can handle the mental side of it. Elanor, can you visualize?” asked Peter.
“What’s visualize?” asked Elanor.
“It’s part of what we’re doing to change this place. You have to hold a detailed image of the desired state, and project it outwards as it resonates with the matter of Rainmoor, adding to the resonance with positive feedback from your mind and your visualization as it comes into being.”
Elanor stared at Peter as if he’d grown three extra heads. “I have to what?”
At this, Julia pitched in, helpfully trying to translate for the panther Queen. “You have to imagine what you want this place to be. Like… perhaps, like a tree you enjoy climbing.”
Elanor looked at Julia, dismayed. “I have to?” she protested. Then, before Peter or Julia could reassure her, Elanor grumbled, “Oh, all right!”…
…and the bottom dropped out of the King’s Quarters.
Peter and Julia and Elanor, who had her eyes closed in concentration, wound up standing on a very large branch, perhaps twenty feet in diameter, that extended back to a sort of tree trunk, which was just one of many such tree trunks extending as far as the eye could see. “That’s very g…” said Peter, at which point he gulped and cautiously lowered himself to sit dead center on the branch, with Julia clinging to him and shaking.
He’d looked down, to find there wasn’t a ground.
“Elanor?” quavered Julia, who hadn’t a great head for heights. “Open your eyes, dear, and look, but don’t move!”
At this, Elanor opened her eyes, and blinked in surprise. “Who put that there? It’s just like I was imagin…”
The bark of the branch crackled as Elanor’s claws dug deep into the wood. She’d looked down too.
Nobody moved for a moment, and then Elanor asked reasonably, “Why did it do that, and how can we put it back?” She continued to stare wonderingly around her- the effect was much like being a tiny ant somewhere in a lilac bush. Branches and trunks went everywhere, but most of all they went down and up seemingly forever. Elanor added, “Why isn’t there a ground?”
Peter swallowed. “You must have been visualizing what was basically a tree canopy. Rainmoor latched onto that and tiled it three-dimensionally for us. Very thoughtful really so long as we don’t fall. Good lord, was that a resonance!”
“Well, I don’t know, was it?” asked Elanor, petulantly. She lifted her paws, shaking bits of splintered tree bark off them- clearly, once past the initial shock of checking her height off the ground, she had no fears of this place.
“Yes, very much so. I couldn’t do anything on this scale, Elanor- it must be thanks to your being Queen, this place is yours and it’s clearly very, very responsive. I don’t suppose you could put it back for us please, right away?”
“Oooh, a bird!” cried Elanor, and to Peter and Julia’s horror, she pushed straight past them and chased ponderously after a little flash of color in the distance, cheerfully if awkwardly running along branch after branch. The novelty of the situation had caused her to totally forget her advanced pregnancy. Julia blanched and buried her face in Peter’s chest, moaning, “I can’t look!”
“Don’t shout! She’ll come back…” said Peter.
There was a curious noise nearby, and Peter felt the distinct sensation of someone, invisibly and inaudibly, but nonetheless, swearing. A section of vertical treetrunk nearby, on a massive trunk that had to be fifty feet across, began to glow a gentle blue in a rectangular shape that was irresistibly reminiscent of a door. This was a good thirty feet away, and Peter and Julia sat tight, waiting to see what else was happening.
The newly created door opened, and Mick looked out. He blinked, and called back over his shoulder, “Vern, would you look at this? We found it, but somebody’s been remodeling.” He peered out into the endless expanse of trunks and branches. “I declare- Peter and Julia! Come on over, you two, come on over- you don’t look happy. Did you do this?”
Clinging tightly to each other, Peter and Julia walked very cautiously over to the new door, which was seen to open out onto Vernon’s familiar cave. It wasn’t that the branch was so narrow- it was quite possible to walk safely on it, but standing up made it all too easy to see over the sides to the dizzying vistas of treetrunks and branches. When the two were near the massive, fifty-foot across vertical trunk, they felt better, and when they’d stepped inside the door into Vernon’s cave, they felt better still. “Don’t shut that door whatever you do, Mick.” remarked Peter unsteadily. “Elanor’s out there.”
Mick looked thunderstruck, and to the great amusement of Vernon, the hedge-mage sputtered his way through a whole series of logical realizations without uttering a single intelligible word. Finally, he neatly summed up his conclusion. “She ain’t got the sense of a dead rat, has she?”
“She didn’t know what she was doing, Mick,” soothed Peter, “and I can’t put it back. Nor you, I fancy. She’s off chasing birds- I saw a few, one was nearby.”
“Exactly. Exactly. Now she’s Queen so the place is responsive, and I’m sure I know just what went through her pea brain- don’t tell me, you asked her to visualize, did you?”
Peter nodded, and Mick continued, in full bluster.
“You think to yourself, of what a tree must seem like to a cat, why don’t you? It was branches she had in mind. Up high enough, you don’t think of the ground. She can’t climb on twigs or leaves and so she wasn’t thinking of those, but she certainly remembered the birds!”
“What color was it?” asked Julia, curious. “I was hiding my face, I can’t bear heights.”
“Vlue!” replied Elanor, poking her head through the door. The bird was indeed blue- amazingly, she’d caught it, killed it, and was carrying it in her mouth. Delighted, she bounced heavily through the door, spat the bird out onto the floor, and beamed at all and sundry. Then she caught Mick’s expression, and drooped, with a feline, resentful look.
At length Mick gave vent to his immediate feelings. “Stay!”
“All right, all right! But it’s really neat, and you should see more of it, and look at the nice bird I caught!” said Elanor, unrepentantly.
“What did I tell you about climbing trees?” asked Mick, solemnly.
“That if I went into labor I should climb right down and go home?”
“No, I told you to stay out of them!”
“Well, that’s too bad,” replied Elanor, “cos there isn’t any ground out there, just more trees. So I couldn’t climb down anyway, and so I caught a bird, see? Even though I’m kind of heavy. Whoof, I’m tired now.”
“It’s a nice bird,” said Julia, “very… blue. Good going.”
“It’s a dead bird,” said Peter. “Suppose it’s good to eat?”
“It’s MY bird,” said Elanor. “Catch your own!”
“It’s an awfully small bird,” said Vernon. “I doubt I could. I could probably toast them on the wing for you if they’re not too quick.”
Everybody looked at Mick, who crossed his arms and stared back levelly. Finally, he relented.
“It’s a spontaneously generated bird produced as a harmonic of Elanor’s visualization, so it just happens there’s infinite numbers of them distributed throughout the space. Catch all you want. Catch all you want.”
“Actually, I see a problem with that,” remarked Peter thoughtfully.
“You don’t like the color?” said Vernon.
“Oh, come on- be serious for a moment. I find it very easy to believe that was an infinitely tiled space- the trouble is, it was also the door to the outside world. How exactly is Jinx going to get back in here? I can’t picture him opening a door like Mick did.”
Elanor blinked. “Oh. I made the door go away? I didn’t notice.”
“It’s all right,” said Peter, “you can put it back and we’ll help put the door back.
At this, Elanor’s ears did a complicated dance of chagrin, resentment, more chagrin- finally, she admitted, “I don’t remember quite how it was before. I remember some things, but not everything. But this isn’t fair, I made this neat place and now I have to put it back?”
“That might be the simplest way.” said Peter.
“No!” protested Elanor. “Let’s do it a complicated way, then, so I can keep the place. I want to think up more things to put in it!”
Mick grinned. “Can’t ask for a better way of learning. We best let her. We best let her… Come on, Peter, you can’t rightly stop her now.”
“Well, I’m game, but it’s certainly going to be more complicated.” said Peter. “Elanor, you’re going to have to do a lot of the work. Do you want to put in a ground, or would you rather sort it out some other way?”
“Like what?” asked Elanor.
“Well, put it this way- places need to do certain things. Right now, this place lets you chase birds, but it also connects to Vernon’s cave. If Julia and I are ever to go home, it must also connect to the hallways of Rainmoor that it used to, and if Jinx is to come here it must connect to the King’s Gate…”
“We could do all that with more doors like the one I done here,” said Mick.
“True,” said Peter, “but there’s more. Suppose we want to gather some people in the King’s quarters? It won’t be much good if they all have to cling desperately to branches.”
Julia remarked, “Actually, that would do some of the nobles good. They don’t have much imagination.”
“You know, you have something there…” replied Peter. “What we have now might not be very functional, but it’s striking as hell. Perhaps we should keep major elements of it for effect…”
Elanor had been watching this discussion, with her ears flattening more and more, and finally she interrupted with great decision. “This is my place! Okay? I’m still not quite sure how I made it, but I like it and I’m keeping it, so you can just shut up with your talk and your ‘we’, because it’s not your place. Didn’t you say I would have to do all the work of changing anything? Well, I won’t!”
At this, Vernon rumbled in amusement. “She’s got you there, Monster. Normally you’re more diplomatic than that. In a moment you’ll have her going off to play with the birds and leaving you stranded here.”
Peter, chagrined, turned on the dragon. “Well, what would you have me say? I’m doing the best I can.”
Vernon turned to the irate feline Queen. “Elanor, we want a place where we can all gather- without falling out of the trees, that is.”
“Oh! But that’s not so hard- it would just be a flat place, right?”
“Something like that. What would you like it to be?” asked Vernon. “Come to think of it, shall we make a place where even I could fit? Thomas never made room for me in his chambers. Admittedly, if he had he would’ve died of old age toddling to the bathroom in the night across all that floor…”
Elanor perked up. “I bet I could think of a flat place big enough for you!”
Mick grinned, waved a hand at the door, and it widened visibly. “Reckon I can handle this end of it. Now we’re talking. Now we’re talking.”
“Shall we go out there and remodel?” said Peter, much relieved- and the little group did so, with the exception of Vernon, who still didn’t fit through the door- at first. Soon, the infinitely tiled responsive visualization of space was very busy…
Jinx slunk through the snow, bound for the King’s Gate. He’d slept, eventually, but uneasily- and on waking, he’d decided things were too out of hand. Flying objects in his cabin, mysterious words appearing- obviously ‘WARE’ meant beware, what with knives being thrown at him. It implied that there was some mysterious thing trying to warn him, but Jinx disapproved of warnings that only alarmed him worse.
There was nothing for it, but to return to Rainmoor and enlist some help. Peter always understood about these things, and Andrew was a fighter- his Rovers could prove useful. Jinx wondered why they no longer had a guard for his house, until he remembered that he himself had ordered Gordon to go home. Once everyone had returned to Rainmoor, there was no possible need for a guard, he’d thought. Of course, he didn’t bargain for flying cutlery either- things had changed.
It wasn’t easy to find the King’s Gate in all the snow. Jinx found basically the right area, and trod about in the snow projecting earnest desire to enter Rainmoor. Nothing happened. Jinx dug, and positioned himself relative to trees and rocks he remembered being there, and tried again- nothing.
After all this time spent disliking and mistrusting the magic- now that he needed it, now it chose not to work? Jinx sagged, staring helplessly at the ground where a magical opening wasn’t. It seemed terribly unfair.
“Psst!”
Jinx’s head snapped to the side, ears perked in alarm and attentiveness. The sound had come from the treeline, but there was nobody to be seen. He began stalking very quietly in the direction of the sound, briefly considering how horribly un-stealthy his tan and black-striped body was against a field of white snow. He slunk edgily towards the treeline, and, again:
“Psst!”
Something behind a bush winked at him. It waved a hand. It was a person- it smelled familiar- there was no doubt, it was Alan, Mick’s shy woods-hunter friend. He beckoned to Jinx, without breaking cover.
Alan whispered, “I been tracking you since you left your house, King Jinx, and you been moving like you was bein’ hunted. What is happenin’?”
Jinx sighed. “I am. Well… maybe I am. Invisible things are throwing knives at me.”
“What, now?” said Alan, nervously.
“No, no… but last night they were. Something was making the word ‘ware’ at me. It must mean ‘beware’, but I’m not sure what to beware of.”
“Are you here to get yourself help, King Jinx?” asked Alan. “This is where holes open in the ground. I seen it many times and when all the people went back into Rainmoor, they was here.”
“It’s not working,” said Jinx. “There’s nothing but snow.”
Alan considered this, dismayed. “But…” he said, and fell silent, thinking. Finally he spoke, his uncertain, soft, rarely-used voice gaining an unusual tone of decision. “No, ain’t nothing else to do about it. Let’s get you some help, King Jinx.”
“But if I can’t get into Rainmoor from here, how are you going to do it?”
“Din’t say that,” said Alan, and his eyes lit up as he flashed a nervous but impish grin. “It’s a bit out of my way now- but we’re goin’ to Full Hollow and get you some help!”
Jinx blinked at the suggestion, and then smiled, and just about purred with relief. “You don’t usually go there.” he said.
“Neither do you.” grinned Alan. “Happens we have a need.”
With that, the two set off. It was about an hour’s walk to Full Hollow. Alan knew the way, but the man was no conversationalist- he was companionable enough, but the contagious silence of him left Jinx trying to sort out confused thoughts while he walked.
It was beyond disconcerting to have the King’s Gate fail to work for him- and not only because it suggested something was wrong with the magic of Rainmoor. Jinx fretted helplessly over the fate of Elanor and his friends- but there was another level that was even more disturbing- he’d wanted to use that magic, had got so used to having it available that it had lost all its terrors for him. Rainmoor magic was still mostly perplexing to him, but he now knew that he no longer feared it- indeed, he wanted to wield it more than ever now that it was denied him. The safe, magic-free haven he’d thought he had wasn’t really a haven after all- someone had tracked him there, and it could never seem like the enclave he’d pretended it was. Magic was not only part of his history and part of him- it had come actively into his life and he couldn’t continue to ignore it any more.
And yet, it took the failure of magic to teach him this- he’d gone to the King’s Gate to Rainmoor unthinkingly intending to enter, and then to seek help from Peter, Mick- from other powerful mages. To find out who was hurling knives at him, who was saying ‘ware’ so earnestly, to get some control over a situation that was turning terribly hostile- and in all of this, to manipulate, use, and benefit from magic that apparently wished to aid him personally, to make him its King and protect him. And then- nothing. An empty hillside covered with snow, totally unresponsive.
Jinx considered the way betrayal could be all the more jarring when it was from something you’d selfishly taken for granted…
Full Hollow was a fugitive sort of place- you passed a house here, a shop or farm there, and before you knew it, you’d passed it by already. Jinx and Alan stopped at Tim’s house, figuring that the Mayor was probably the person to talk to. They found him out back, banging on a butter churn, watched by unimpressed cows. On seeing Jinx, the cows became more impressed- they backed off and watched him solemnly as he talked with Tim.
“Flying knives, you say?” said Tim.
“Yes- an invisible thing threw knives, then got in a fight with something else. There was a yelling, and something running off.”
“You figure them things are following you? Maybe you best not hang around here,” said Tim. “Well, uh, I mean, King Jinx, you can be around here all you please, I’m just thinking of my poor cows…”
Jinx considered this. “We could step outside.”
“I surely do appreciate it. Is there anything I can do to help, King Jinx, sir?”
“Don’t call me that!” said Jinx. “I live here! I don’t know, but I might need to hide out somewhere.”
Tim thought. “Cold iron! If you’re being troubled by witchery, maybe you can go stay with Rob. You know, our blacksmith…”
“The invisible thing was throwing metal knives at me. Wouldn’t that just give it more things to throw at me?” asked Jinx.
“Oh.” Tim sagged. “Well… if it can throw an anvil, we’re all in trouble. No, I think you should still try Rob. He’s a brave man, and what with his inventings, he’s well off- he’s always got a larder full enough for a crowd of visitors, has to give food away sometimes. You can stay with him.”
“Inventings? Like the backward sword, to give to your enemy?”
Tim laughed. “That’s a draw-knife! Mick tells that story, I see you’ve heard it. Mick’s a silly man, God love him. Anyhow, we’ll go see Rob.”
Jinx had imagined a big stable and roaring forge, blithely failing to consider the relative lack of horses in Full Hollow. As a result, he didn’t notice the smithy until Tim knocked on the door. Alan had accompanied them, perhaps wishing to help, though the shy hunter had begun to hang back and fade off in the direction of the woods- easy to do in the middle of a forest.
The door opened on a skinny, wiry little guy, not unlike Mick. There was the same indeterminate age, the same sharp and level gaze, as if he was sizing you up and accustomed to find some amusement in most people he met. Rob took in Tim and Jinx immediately, and called past them, “E-he! Alan, I see you! What brings you here?”
They entered, Alan most reluctantly. There was no forge, just a wood stove, but the place was a clutter of mechanical implements and tools. Through a back door, Jinx could see a small clearing, the middle of which was clear of snow surrounding a pit in the ground- evidently Rob’s metalworking needs could be addressed by smelting metal in an earth-pit. Rob was already talking. “I’ll ask again on account of maybe you didn’t hear me- what brings you all here? Tim, you drop in all the time, but King Jinx has never visited me and Alan, I’m not sure I believe what I’m seeing. What on earth is going on?”
Tim said, “King Jinx has a problem that maybe you can help with…”
Rob interrupted him gently but ruthlessly. “Well, then, maybe he should tell it me. Looks like he wanted to say something before you butted in.”
“I only wanted to say, don’t call me that.” said Jinx. “Nobody ever calls me just Jinx anymore. I didn’t ask to be King, it just happened.”
Rob looked him over quickly. “That so? That so? Interesting. Well, I’ll be happy to call you Jinx, Jinx, and why don’t you tell me what’s happening?”
“He’s being attacked,” said Tim helpfully, and caught a glance from Rob. “Sorry.”
“That so? Attacked by what?” asked Rob.
“I’m not sure.” said Jinx. “It’s something invisible. It threw a knife at me, and made my tea leaves into the word ‘ware’, and made a sort of storm outside, like a fight was happening.”
“What sort of knife?” asked Rob, promptly. Jinx said, “What?”
“I said, what sort of knife? Skinny dagger thing, bone knife, kitchen knife, what?”
“Oh. It was my knife, the one I use for making dinner.”
“Steel knife, then?”
“Yes.”
Rob considered this. “That complicates things. For a regular mage to be invisible, and still do knife-throwing, he would have to be very good to not break concentration- there are stable hexes for that but out here the forces are too weak to sustain them…”
He noticed everyone staring at him. “Oh, now, you know Mick is always around here! Happens we teach each other things. Now, did you hear anyone walking in your house when this happened?”
Tim grinned. “Told you he was the man to see.”
Jinx said, “No, I didn’t hear anything walking around. But it might be the ghost of King Adrian doing it- I might have seen it.”
Rob coughed, and spluttered, “Like hell! Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but don’t you know your history and lore at all? Do you have any idea how daft that idea is?”
Jinx, undaunted, replied, “No, I have no idea and I don’t know that history. I want to know what’s happening, so please tell me!”
“I’d be delighted to.” said Rob, and he sat and began to do so, with an air of enjoyment as if it was a favorite tale of his.
“Not everyone cared for our King Adrian, but here in Full Hollow we loved him. He was an avid hunter with a good sporting spirit, but there’s always been aristocracy who were like that. Adrian liked us, and that was novel. He would come out to Full Hollow (well, to the villages that became Full Hollow) and stay with us, hunting and roistering until the small hours.”
“It was on those late nights that he first began thinking of creating Adrian’s Mail.”
“You see, he didn’t like the aristocracy much. Backstabbing, conniving- it’s just politics, but Adrian couldn’t tolerate it, and yet there was nothing he could do. He knew his own aristocracy was corrupt, and even if he lived long through suspicion and watchfulness, he’d eventually pass over and he would be succeeded by any of a number of treacherous, unsporting nobles. There wasn’t anyone he wanted to give the throne to. So, he decided to do two things…”
“The first thing was, he used his own mage talents and those of others to create a set of mail that was well-nigh invulnerable. It would warn of treachery, it would turn blades even when they were ensorceled- people still talk of Adrian’s Mail, and one part of the story was that he did succeed in creating it.”
“The other part is this: he didn’t create it for himself.”
“Adrian created this armor for the future King that he believed would one day come, more worthy than any of his immediate successors, and once he’d created it, he hid it away, enchanting a key that would guide that person to the hidden place. And, having done so, he began to tell his lords and aristocrats about his plan and the enchanted key, and he made the mistake of showing it to them.”
“He hadn’t even finished speaking before he was stabbed in the back, and died, and the lords fought over the key- and when the dust settled, one faction had it, and their leader became King- and much good it did them, because he wasn’t the man Adrian had in mind, and the key remained stubbornly silent about where the mail was hid. And so it went, the key passing down the generations as part of that faction. They were hunters as well, but with a cruel streak, and they became the Rovers which still exist today.”
“And the key, and the Mail, are still out there somewhere…”
Jinx stared, fascinated to learn so much about the key that Lord Andrew guarded so carefully. Something had tried to steal it. Possibly there was some explanation to it all…
At which point, Rob broke Jinx’s reverie with a snort. “And that is why it’s not King Adrian who turned invisible and tried to stab you in the back! I wonder what’s happening if that ghost is uneasy. Did you see him? What did he look like?”
“Green.” said Jinx. Rob nodded. “That fits.”
They sat for a minute, until Rob said, “So, what are you going to do? Here to pick up a sword?”
“No, I already have one- Tim thought I could hide here.”
Rob blinked. “You think so? I’m not sure that’s what you need to be doing, Jinx. Some things you got to face. But I’ll tell you, it’s getting late- why don’t you stay the night. Tomorrow, we’ll go back to your cabin, and we’ll see what we can find.”
The vast expanse of wood gleamed. It was a light blonde color, reflective as if it were coated with glass, and seemingly made out of many thin wooden strips neatly glued together, perfectly flat, even in the middle where it supported a dragon.
Vernon smirked, and his smirk was reflected in the floor, doubling his self-satisfaction. “That’s it, my dear- this is just right, you can stop now.” he said.
Elanor, facing him, opened her eyes. “It’s real shiny. Why did you want it to be all those thin lines, and so hard and shiny?”
The dragon chuckled. “Oh, but it must! Do you realise, my darling inflated panther, that now you can go bowling in any direction you like? I’ve always wanted to enjoy the spectacle of non-parallel bowling. Like a combination between bowling and billiards. Won’t that be fun?”
“Peter,” asked Elanor, “what is he talking about?”
Peter chuckled. “Never ask that question, Elanor. Just smile and nod. Trust me, it’s the only way…”
“I fancy a table we can gather at,” said Mick. “Over to the side, perhaps? By the third group of trees that we’re going to portal to the main tunnel, the one leadin’ to the Great Hall?”
“Oh, I have a better idea!” said Julia. “On the second level overlooking Vernon’s space!”
Mick chuckled. “Elanor don’t know her own strength- that there space would fit three Vernons without rubbin’ elbows.”
It was late morning. They’d left the tree-fantasy room alone, and with Mick’s help, had defined a portal to Peter and Julia’s home, and Elanor had gone with them to get some sleep, the group reconvening the next morning to whip the King’s Quarters- or, indeed, Queen’s Quarters- into shape. Vernon’s ability to communicate telepathically with the royal panther proved invaluable, as he could transmit images of proposed furnishings to her, letting her concentrate and turn them to reality. There was a downside- Elanor didn’t have the experience to recognize when Vernon was being whimsical, and so the vast main floor was surfaced as a bowling alley, and the prow of the beautiful canopied second level overlooking it was graced with a small figurehead, which was a nude of Julia. In its original form, it was life-size. Elanor would have removed it, as Peter and Mick were shocked, but Julia burst out laughing, and made her keep it, just at a smaller size and rendered more generically.
“A gathering-table would be good.” said Peter. “Do you suppose a round one…?”
Vernon looked at him pityingly. “I think not, Monster.”
“But you know Jinx doesn’t like being set above everyone else.”
The dragon chuckled. “Hard luck for him, then! He can be as reluctant as he likes provided he is still King. That makes him likeable, just as our Elanor is. If he’s really on the level of everyone else, they’ll stop respecting him. He’s got to be placed well above them, and then he can be bashful as he pleases. We’ll do a long table with thrones at the end.”
“Can’t he just fit in?” asked Peter.
“No, Monster, he can’t. Just look at him. He’s a walking tiger creature who stumbled into royalty through bloodshed. He can’t fit in, because he’s not really human at all, except for being cursed with the intelligence of a human…”
“Cursed?” asked Peter.
“Yes, hardship, starvation- you know! Can’t see how you creatures manage at all with so little… well, anyhow, he can’t possibly fit in. He’d like to behave with humility, but we’ve got to place him reluctantly at the top- because the poor fellow is more innocent than humans, and if he’s not at the top, Peter, he will be at the bottom.”
Mick looked distressed at this. “He was all right living at the outskirts of Full Hollow. Don’t seem fair, somehow.”
“But we do need him here- not just for Rainmoor, but so he can be with Elanor.” said Peter. “Vernon, are you serious? I don’t like what you’re suggesting.”
“Of course you don’t.” said the dragon. “You’re human yourself, and no doubt it’s embarrassing- but think for a minute. He’s got to be placed at the pinnacle of status, because his oddness and niceness complement it. We’ll arrange that whenever he’s self-deprecating, it will be taken as mere politeness… the alternative is to have him steadily become a mockery and a patsy.”
Peter frowned. “I don’t like the sound of that, but I begin to see what you mean, Vernon. Is there any way we can help him avoid this?”
Julia, looking solemn, ventured, “If we could convince him to work a little magic…”
Vernon nodded his huge head. “If I remember correctly, he hates it- but refusing to use it will make our job more difficult. Virtually everyone in Rainmoor can work at least a little magic. Normally a King has an advantage there, being attuned to the plane, but if he will not use that…”
Elanor interrupted. “I thought you were going to do a table, not sit around talking!”
“Sorry, Elanor.” said the dragon, and proceeded to envision a table, feeding the image to Elanor’s mind. She, in turn, visualized it in resonance with the extremely receptive room (if it even was a room anymore- only in Rainmoor could you have a ‘room’ extending infinitely in every direction, and still have room for everywhere else), and a table formed, shimmering slightly as molecules rushed out of the floor and from the air to form solidness.
It was tall. It was black. It was standing on end.
“Why,” asked Peter, “do you have it standing up like that?” Then, seeing Vernon look smug and ready to answer, Peter hastily interjected, “Never mind- I’m sure I don’t want to know what dreadful joke you’re making now.”
Vernon looked disappointed. “Oh, very well.” he said, and gave the precariously balanced table a significant look. It slowly toppled, and took its final position with an impressively solid bang, that shook the floor they were standing on, and startled Elanor out of her focus. The sound of the table hitting the floor made subtle echoes back from the endless tree trunks, a soft open sound that died away in the distance rapidly, but in doing so, gave a sense of vast empty spaces all around.
“We haven’t got all the gates and doors made yet,” said Julia. “I’m surprised you didn’t do the gate to outside first.”
“What g…” said Elanor, and blinked. “Oh! I have to do that one?”
Julia nodded. “Now I understand, though. You thought Jinx would create that as he needs it? It looks that way, but the hex is actually on this side. If it’s not there, he could be trying all day but the Gate wouldn’t open.”
“It wouldn’t?” said Elanor. “No, no, I want it to! Someone show me what to do!”
Peter glanced at Vernon, who nodded and said, “I’m quite familiar with it. Here you are, Elanor, concentrate.” The dragon effortlessly fed to the panther the complicated patterns of hexes and planes of force involved in creating a gateway to the outside world. It took her some time to master it and place it. Finally, she nodded.
“Can I test it out?” she asked.
Peter nodded. “It should open onto that hillside if you trigger it with a will to exit. Volition must be present but you can inhibit the action if you like…”
Mick snorted with laughter at Elanor’s expression. “Just step outside for a bit, hon. Just step outside.”
Elanor awkwardly began moving in the direction of the gate, which was established through a massive treetrunk, one of the supports for the whole fantastic setting. As she did, the gate obligingly opened onto a hillside covered with snow, a chill air blowing in.
“Right, it works.” said Peter, and Elanor sat back on her haunches, tired. “Can we make somewhere for me to sleep, now?” she said. “I don’t even want to stand up anymore.”
Mick raised an eyebrow, and exchanged a knowing glance with Julia, who asked, “Are you still able to sleep comfortably?”
“No!” complained Elanor. “Not at all! When will this be over?”
Julia swallowed, considering Elanor’s total inexperience, and lied, “There’s no telling, Elanor. Hang in there.” She exchanged a worried look with Mick, but got back a sympathetic gaze. Peter, on the other hand, looked as worried as she was.
Vernon, never a fool, sized up the situation and offered a distraction. “Perhaps you’d like to test out the other…”
One of the new gates to Rainmoor’s other areas abruptly opened, and almost before it was open, Lord Andrew was through it, and not even noticing the altered decor as he bore down on Elanor, declaiming, “My Queen, I beg leave to hunt down and slay a renegade!”
He stopped before her, and Elanor stared at him, dumbfounded.
“…gate.”
“What?”
Vernon regarded Lord Andrew levelly. “Gate, I said. We’re testing newly installed gateways. You’ve just done us the kindness of testing one for us. Do you favor the new look? We’re redecorating.”
Andrew glowered at the dragon briefly, but kept cool. “You’re quite welcome. Yes, it’s most impressive. This is serious, sir.”
“What on earth is wrong, Andrew?” said Peter.
“Carl is missing.”
Peter blinked. “And this is bad, because…?”
“He’s after our King! I’m glad the Queen is safe. The man wrote me a letter, asking my pardon, if you please, for his usurping the throne! Says he hopes I won’t mind serving under him!”
“Good God.” said Peter.
“He’s mine.” snarled Andrew. “His life is mine, the traitorous hound. I’ll kill him myself.”
“We’ve got to do something!” said Elanor, pacing- and then, she sat down. “Oog… I don’t feel at all well.”
Mick went to her, and said, not unkindly, “I’ll tie you to one of these trees if you won’t stay here and be safe. Anyone trying to hurt you will have to come through me.”
“And I!” said Vernon. The dragon snorted a bit of fire.
Peter turned to Andrew. “Well, then, we’ve got our Queen protected. Do you consider our protection adequate? You know Carl better than we do, he’s one of your Rovers.”
“No longer. We agreed that King Jinx would command us. Carl is not ours now- all the Rovers are alerted to seize him if they can, or kill him if pressed.”
“If they can?” asked Peter. “Which of them would be able to do that?”
“Gordon could probably manage it. Some of the others, if they had the advantage of surprise. Probably nobody else in Rainmoor could manage it.”
Peter narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.
“You don’t say. Well, Andrew… what, exactly, can Carl do?”
Earlier that morning, Jinx’s little group had set out to investigate his cabin. Alan was still with the group, though he showed signs of flight. He’d outfitted himself with his hunting bow, in case there was trouble. Tim came along, busily reassuring Jinx that there was probably a simple explanation for everything. Rob had brought along a large metal pole, which he used as a sort of walking stick, though it was obviously not a good one.
“Wouldn’t a wooden stick be more useful?” asked Jinx.
Rob heaved the pole along another step. “Hah. Depends how you mean. You think I’m bringing this along for looks?”
“Well- it is shiny.”
“That it is, true enough.” chuckled Rob. “Pray we leave it at that. I will say this, though- Mick’s a good friend of mine. This ain’t your usual pole. You may thank me that I brung it.”
Jinx considered this, and replied, “Thank you.”
“Not now!” laughed the blacksmith. “You’ll know when.”
As they grew nearer to Jinx’s cabin, he became aware of a strange feeling, like a poised tenseness of great energies waiting to discharge, or distant thunder on a clear and sunny day. It was sunny, in fact- the day so bright it glittered, crisp winter air, the quietness of the snowy woods hardly disturbed by their passage. Jinx and Alan moved almost silently, while Rob and Tim clumped along less stealthily than that, but there was no sign anything noticed them, even so. The air stretched out so thin and brittle it seemed like something somewhere had to crack, which Jinx didn’t understand. Was it his being King that brought him this dreadful sensitivity, or was it just that he felt threatened by a mysterious something? Ghosts and monsters seemed alarming in the night, but in the glare of daylight, as the four passed the path towards the top of the mountain and the King’s Gate, and approached Jinx’s cabin, the night terrors seemed no more alarming than the plume of smoke from his fireplace…
The day fractured into deadly edges.
He had not left a fire burning in the fireplace, and the plume of smoke was too great.
Jinx broke into a run, followed by the others, who were quick to realize what was happening. Rob, accustomed to working with heat and flame, understood at almost the same moment as Jinx, but was encumbered by the metal pole- refusing to drop it, he lagged behind Alan, on Jinx’s heels, and Tim, slowest to figure out the danger.
They dashed around a last turn in the path, to an astonishing sight. Jinx’s cabin was engulfed in flames, roaring and crackling as its wood burned and consumed everything inside, but there was a figure standing before it, arms crossed in satisfaction.
Someone made a noise, and the figure looked around, then whirled in shock and alarm to stare at Jinx and his friends, and Jinx saw his face clearly. It was Carl, the Rover mage, and he wore an expression of horror, as if to say, “You can’t be out here! You’re dead, in there!”
For a moment, they stared at each other, and then the man’s face became grim and drawn, and he raised a hand…
“Jinx, get down!” cried Rob, as the Rover mage fired a very creditable fireball, fueled by his desperate need to dispose of the witnesses. Jinx and his friends hit the snowy ground, grazed by the fireball. As it passed over them, Rob was already up, yelling “Run!”
Alan was already gone, lost amid the trees, the hunter turned hunted. Jinx, Rob and Tim fled back to the main path, and Rob, still dragging his metal pole, gasped, “Make for the Gate! Get help, Jinx!”
Jinx protested, “It’s not working!”
“Try it!”
At this, Tim glanced back where they’d come, to see Carl jogging steadily towards them, shaking his hands as if they stung from making the fireball, readying them for another attack. Tim blanched, and ran back towards Full Hollow, shouting “I’ll get the fire brigade!”
Rob rasped, “He’ll be all right- move!” and the two fled ahead of the determined Rover. Carl seemed to be trying to concentrate and jog at the same time- it had to be difficult to summon magical energies on the run, when they were so scarce outside of Rainmoor anyhow. Jinx noticed Rob flagging, gasping for breath, unable to keep up, and he slowed, glancing frantically at the approaching Carl, who was raising his hand…
Rob turned, almost falling, and grabbed Jinx’s hand in his, thrusting the metal pole through the snow and pushing the both of them behind it as he pointed it at Carl. The fireball burst into life from Carl’s hands, and roared towards them, even bigger and hotter than before- and just as it was about to incinerate them, it touched the end of the pole, which flared into light. The fireball seemed to elongate and be sucked through the pole, into the ground, and Rob yelped and dropped the pole, which made a loud hiss as it hit the snow-covered ground.
Alarmed, Jinx tried to look at Rob’s hand, but the blacksmith was already pressing it against the snow, and he whirled and snarled at Jinx, “He’s not after me, you fool! Run, damn you! Run! Now!”
Jinx wasn’t at all sure it was safe to leave the man, but Carl was already coming on again- the tiger King hesitated, hissed at the approaching mage with his ears laid flat back, and then fled alone. Behind him, Rob cursed and scuffled around to put the spell-catching metal pole between him and Carl, but the mage didn’t pay any attention to him- when Jinx looked back, Carl was pursuing him determinedly and the blacksmith was crawling towards the trees at the side of the path, and hadn’t been attacked again.
Jinx fled up the path towards the King’s Gate hillside, his own strength failing- his feline body was not made for distance running, but for sprinting. It ached all over, his face felt singed, and the Rover mage just kept on coming, in a steady, ground-eating jog that looked oddly military. They were trained, those Rovers- probably jogged everywhere, probably ran in circles just to be ready for times like these. Jinx had to stay in front for long enough to keep the man busy with running, instead of concentrating. Jinx was fast, very fast, but he couldn’t keep it up- the Rover mage was already beginning to close the gap, as Jinx reached the hillside, and began to stagger up it towards where the Gate should be.
He reeled, falling to his catlike knees and then onto his side, just as he reached it, and at that moment he could think of nothing but the threat of Carl, moving in, looking grim, raising his hand as his eyes flashed with concentration…
In a single motion, Alan nocked an arrow, drew, and fired it through the mage’s hand.
Jinx lay stunned, not believing his reprieve. Carl yelled in pain, and whirled to look at the hunter, standing defiantly by the tree line at the base of the hill. He had worked out where Jinx would run to, and he had got there first. Just for a moment, the shy woods hunter gazed at the Rover mage with a terrible disdain. Then, as rage overcame Carl and he raised his hands at Alan, the hunter cried, “Go in now!” and dashed for the safety of the woods.
Jinx wasn’t going to waste another moment. He willed entry into Rainmoor with all his heart, and directly before him, the King’s Gate opened, and Jinx staggered through it.
Everything was different- he found himself staggering across a vast expanse of shiny floor. Some of his friends were talking at the other end, and Elanor gave a shriek as a fireball burst against the edge of the Gate. She tried to rush over to him, but stumbled and fell, breathing heavily and looking desperate, physically unable to rush to his aid.
Jinx made it halfway across the floor, exhausted, before Carl reached the Gate. To the horror of his friends, the tiger King turned, to face his tormentor. Carl was winded, and looked half-mad as he staggered through the Gate, shaking out his hands as if they hurt him.
Behind Jinx, Andrew was cursing foully and Mick was yammering something about a shield and Elanor was crying “Noooo!” piteously because she couldn’t get to him, and as the renegade Rover mage, now within Rainmoor, grinned horribly and raised his bloody hand, all at once, Jinx had had enough, and sheer outrage flooded him.
In a moment he felt power crackling through him, power that belonged to him and not just to these humans and this hateful, power-mad magic-user before him- and before Carl could release his fireball, Jinx vented every bit of his fury in his own attack. His ears laid flat back, his voice hoarse with a feline shriek of rage, he lashed out with a clawing gesture from which searing white fire erupted, as if the full force of Rainmoor’s magic chose to vent itself with its King’s fury. It flashed from Jinx’s hand, blinding, hiding the hapless Carl within a maelstrom of energy.
And then, there was silence- and a faint crackling as the charred spot on the floor cooled- and a rather small pile of dust.
Jinx stood there, looking at his hand, in the middle of the silence.
Then he wobbled, and it seemed to break the tension. The next thing he knew, Elanor was beside him, and Peter was on his other side, holding him up, and Mick was saying “…or p’raps he won’t be needing one” and somewhere the dragon Vernon was chuckling. Everything spun.
Andrew was before him, saying “Gad, my liege, that was glorious!” and Jinx was beginning to wonder if that meant he didn’t have to apologize to the Rovers for killing their mage- when there was a flash of green, and suddenly someone else was there.
It was a man, dressed in emerald-colored finery, and his hand lashed out and grabbed the key from around Andrew’s neck, breaking the chain. Lord Andrew took a deep breath, ready to bellow angrily, and then stopped, dumbfounded, for King Adrian was standing before him, hand still raised with the broken chain dangling from the key he clutched, staring him down with the look of an intolerably exasperated King.
Then, King Adrian snorted soundlessly, turned from Andrew as if he was beneath notice, and looked deeply into King Jinx’s eyes. Jinx wobbled, feeling as if he’d been dragged through his burning house backwards by the tail, but it didn’t seem to matter. Adrian nodded, and placed the key gently in Jinx’s hand, and smiled. And, even as he formed the smile, he began to fade, turning ghostly, and not stopping there- and he was gone. Jinx held the key, and realized that he was thinking of a particular place he’d never been- he knew where Adrian’s fabled Mail could be found, now.
Exhausted, he slowly sagged to the floor, Peter and Andrew helping him. He sat, his friends sitting around him, Elanor’s head in his lap, and he looked around at his strange new home, knowing he could learn to be part of it, that it wanted him. He was home, somehow. He could sort out the details later. For now, he would rest, and then he would think of something.
Jinx scratched Elanor’s ears affectionately, and said, “I’m glad that’s over.”
“Uh!”
Jinx looked at Elanor disapprovingly. “That’s not really funn..”
She looked back up at him, terrified, and there was a puddle growing on the floor- and suddenly all was chaos again.
Mick dashed about, fetching inexplicable and intimidating things- Julia stayed with the panicked Elanor, soothing her and rolling her onto her side, while Peter dashed off to fetch towels and Vernon produced a large kettle and carefully directed jets of fire at it until it was boiling. And then, it was a blur of worried voices, Elanor’s cries of pain and distress accompanied by Peter and Mick frantically using every trick of magic and midwifery to bring into the world Elanor’s one oversized baby, none of which Jinx understood, and he stayed close to Elanor’s head and cringed at her shrieks and stared witlessly as the humans coaxed her to push- PUSH- and the fear grew in him until it was crushing, fear that Elanor would die, that the baby would, that it would all go wrong, and deepest of all, fear that it would show him to be nothing more than an…
“Would you look at that?”
It was Mick’s voice. Elanor wasn’t screaming any more, though she was breathing hard. The humans were busy behind her- she seemed to be sleeping now, perhaps from some kindly spell.
“Jinx! Come and see.”
It was Peter’s voice, sympathetic. Jinx slowly turned, and looked at the mystery he had produced.
Even after toweling, it was dreadfully icky, but that wasn’t what caught his attention. It was black-furred, tiny, and it- no, he- took a breath and released it in a small mewing cry, wriggling feebly and kicking. And as his friends watched, glowing-eyed, King Jinx of Rainmoor reached hesitantly out towards his kitten, his child, with one humanlike finger extended.
And one tiny, black-furred, but very human hand reached out to grip it firmly.
