Jinx's Fire by Sage Blackwood Page A

that when the two paths meet there are explosions.”
    â€œAt the upper levels,” said Malthus. “In the visible world. Where the metaphysical manifests itself in the physical realm. You’re familiar with Sort’s Taxonomy of Pseudophenomena?”
    â€œOf course,” said Sophie. “But—no offense—I’m a little surprised that you are.”
    â€œI have his book,” said Malthus. “Something to chew over in the winter evenings. I’ve often thought that if he’d actually visited the Urwald, he might have reassessed his stipulation that—”
    â€œBut haven’t you read Luzani’s commentaries?” Sophie asked. “They refute the whole basis of his classification of—”
    â€œâ€™Scuse me,” said Jinx. “Malthus doesn’t stay long. He always has to run off somewhere. So could we kind of—”
    Malthus frowned at him, which was the most uncomfortable thing Jinx had had happen to him all day.
    â€œWhat happens if the paths meet at the bottom, instead of the top?” said Sophie.
    â€œI’m not certain that could happen,” said Malthus. “Not without considerable magical intervention.”
    â€œWhat if there was magical intervention?” said Jinx. “Like from the Bonemaster?”
    â€œThen I suppose that they could meet. Whether there would be explosions or not, I don’t know,” said the werewolf. “Sort’s Taxonomy suggests not. But what did he know, really?”
    Sophie flipped over several pages, and pointed to another passage.
    â€œâ€˜Where the paths meet, the paths part. Let ice touch fire, let fire breach ice,’” Malthus translated. “Hm. It does sound like they cross, or meet, somewhere. And yet that’s against their very nature.”
    â€œIf someone—the Bonemaster, for instance—forced the paths to meet in some way . . .” There was a catch in Sophie’s voice.
    â€œUp here, it would cause an explosion. Down there . . . I don’t know. I have always assumed the rules are different down there.” Malthus tapped a fang thoughtfully.
    â€œThere’s this, too,” said Sophie, reaching past the werewolf’s claws to flip the pages again.
    â€œâ€˜Let life equal death, and let living leaf equal cold stone. Take leaf to life, and dearth to death, and seal the whole at the nadir of all things.’ Hm. I see your point.”
    Jinx remembered the note Sophie had made: Seal = Simon?
    â€œSo you think the paths meet at the nadir,” said Malthus.
    â€œI think they’ve been joined,” said Sophie. “And that the Bonemaster is somehow using”—her voice shook, possibly with the cold—“that is, I think the Bonemaster may have found a Qunthk spell for joining the paths.”
    â€œI believe this may be the spell.” Malthus touched the open book with a claw. “He doesn’t have the Eldritch Tome, does he?”
    â€œI don’t know,” said Sophie. “I’ve never heard of there being another copy, but—”
    â€œThe elves could have taught him the spell, I suppose.” Malthus jotted a note in his notebook.
    â€œSo if he’s joined the paths,” said Jinx, “that’s how he’s draining my—the Urwald’s—power, right?” He remembered what Elfwyn had said. The elves had told the Bonemaster he could draw fire through the seal. “And Sophie thinks he’s using Simon to connect the paths—”
    A blue-brown wave of horror from Sophie. Jinx decided not to say any more about that.
    â€œOf course, I’m not sure if I’m interpreting it correctly,” said Sophie.
    The werewolf looked at her with sudden sympathy. “I see. May I— If it’s not too much to ask, may I borrow the tome?”
    â€œPlease do,” said Sophie.
    Malthus flashed that red-gold delight that wasuncomfortably like