Jinx's Fire by Sage Blackwood Read Free Book Online Page B

sure,” said Oswald. “But they’ve never been late before—”
    â€œIs it Quenild’s group?” said Jinx.
    Oswald frowned. “Yes.”
    â€œThey’ve skipped you,” said Jinx. “They were at our place a week ago, headed east.”
    The Deadfallers considered this.
    â€œYes,” said Oswald at last. “I see.”
    Jinx sighed with relief. “Good. Now, we’ve come to take your iron—”
    Nick, Wendell, and Hilda all grabbed him. Jinx shrugged them off. “I do know how to talk to people, you know. I’ve been working on diplomacy.”
    â€œMaybe you could work on it some more,” Wendell suggested, in Samaran. He switched to Urwish. “He means we’ll buy the iron, of course, if you’re willing to sell. How much are the Wanderers paying you?”
    â€œThirteen pennies a hundredweight,” said Griselda promptly.
    Jinx could see that this was a lie, but he didn’t feel like having everyone tell him to shut up again.
    â€œThe blacksmiths are probably paying twice that,” saidWendell. “So they’ll be glad to give you eighteen.”
    Confusion, calculation, discussion.
    â€œIf we get eighteen, then Angstwurm gets nine . . .”
    â€œWait a minute, you mean you pay that wizard—” Jinx began, and Wendell grabbed his arm.
    â€œThey’re paying half what they earn to a wizard!” Jinx told Wendell in Samaran. “That’s extortion.”
    â€œMaybe we could worry about that later,” said Wendell.
    One of the Deadfallers shot a suspicious glance at the sound of a foreign language. Wendell gave her a friendly nod.
    â€œThey have to see the advantage to themselves, or they’re not going to help us,” said Wendell.
    â€œBut the Urwald is their country!”
    â€œThey don’t know it yet,” said Wendell. “You have to be patient with them.”
    â€œI am flippin’—”
    Hilda turned around. “They’ve decided to do it, sir. As long as it’s all right with the wizard.”
    â€œWhy’s it any of his—”
    â€œI don’t know, sir. It’s just the way they do things here. And they want to know how we’re going to transport the iron—are we going to send carts?”
    â€œOf course not,” said Jinx. “I’m going to use their knowledge to make a doorpath.”
    â€œI think we’d better not explain that to them just now,” said Hilda.
    The Deadfall Clearing people pulled stone blocks from holes at the bottom of the ovens, and hauled out rough, ash-covered lumps of iron.
    â€œHow do we know how much those weigh?” said Jinx.
    â€œI’ll handle this,” said Wendell quickly.
    â€œYes, and we’ll explain to them about the doorpaths,” said Nick.
    Hilda nodded emphatically.
    â€œFine.” Jinx stalked off, feeling put upon. If it weren’t for him, none of them would even be here. Nobody would be trying to unite the Urwald, or getting iron for the blacksmiths, who would probably have been overrun by Reven’s army because nobody would have built a ward for them. . . .
    Well, they obviously felt they didn’t need him. Let them talk things over, and once they finally worked their way around to where they needed a doorpath to transport the iron, well, then perhaps they’d remember that nobody but Jinx could make one.
    Fretting and fuming, he marched along the path to Deadfall Clearing.
    He didn’t want to go there either. He sat down in a bed of thick moss, leaned against a birch tree, and let the Urwald’s calming lifeforce wash over him.
    But it didn’t. Or not like it usually did. Instead of beinga long, green murmur of life that reached downward and outward forever, it seemed to burble, blop, stop, and start. There were interruptions. It was as if the Urwald had hiccups.
    What’s going on? he asked.
    The question wasn’t specific