was to gaze upon my beautiful face. And you, chipmunk, can stop trying to read my mind.”
“I wasn’t trying to read your mind,” Jinx protested. “I can’t! Nobody can.”
“That’s right, chipmunk. Nobody can.”
Confused, Jinx ducked his head down and breathed in steam. He took a cautious sip of the hot drink. It tasted of summer.
Dame Glammer got up and brought some barley cakes, which were crumbly and a bit stale and nowhere near as good as anything that there was to eat in Simon’s house. They ate these and drank their brew, and Simon and Dame Glammer talked a bit about potions and magic and herbs.
“That’s deep Urwald magic, that is, Simon,” said Dame Glammer, nodding at Jinx. “You don’t see that very often. If you want to study Urwald magic, you take a look at that boy.”
“No one can read minds,” said Simon. “Certainly Jinx can’t.”
Dame Glammer grinned. “Ask him.”
“Jinx, what number am I thinking of?”
“Seven?” Jinx guessed.
“Nope.” Simon turned back to Dame Glammer. “I’d have noticed it by now if he could.”
“Hard to notice what you don’t believe in.”
“Jinx, go bring some firewood in,” said Simon.
Jinx put down his empty mug and stood up. It didn’t seem fair—he’d only just got here, and surely Dame Glammer was used to bringing in her own firewood.
“The firewood’s in a shed just around the side of the house, chipmunk,” said Dame Glammer, grinning at him.
He pulled his boots on, put on his coat, and went out. He took a couple of loud, crunching steps in the snow, forward then back, and pressed his ear to Dame Glammer’s front door.
“Of course I don’t,” Dame Glammer was saying. “Do you think I keep something like that in my house?”
“Probably,” said Simon.
“Ha. Nobody ever wanted that for any good purpose.”
“I’d be willing to pay quite a bit for it.”
“And it’s the leaves you want?”
“The roots,” said Simon. “I told you.”
“Root magic’s for things that ought not to see the light of day. Things that were better left undone,” said Dame Glammer.
“Am I supposed to believe you never do that sort of magic yourself?” said Simon.
Dame Glammer chuckled.
“I’ll pay you in gold,” said Simon.
“Gold?” Dame Glammer laughed. “That useless soft metal that you can’t make tools or cooking pots out of? Or am I supposed to hang it in my beautiful ears?”
“Well, not gold then. Anything you like.”
“Anything?” Dame Glammer’s voice was suddenly hungry.
“Within reason,” Simon said quickly. “Anything you care to name right now. No unspecified favors at a later date.”
“Will you give me the dear, trusting little chipmunk?”
“No. Not the chipmunk,” said Simon. “I meant something in the way of money, or, or spices, or—”
“Magic?” said Dame Glammer. “Goodness, don’t you think that chipmunk’s taking an awfully long time with the wood?”
There was the sound of a chair being pushed back from the table, and Jinx turned and ran to get the firewood.
“You’d better stay the night,” said Dame Glammer when Jinx was back inside. “Now that the deepest snow is gone, a lot of folk are out traveling the Path. I expect you might meet anybody .”
“Might we?” said Simon. “Meaning?”
“Meaning there are some people it’s better to meet by daylight.”
Simon nodded slowly. “I see. Right, we’ll stay, then.”
Before they left the next morning, Jinx saw Dame Glammer slip Simon a bundle tied up tightly in a red polka-dot kerchief. Simon tucked it into an inside pocket of his robe. Jinx didn’t see what Simon gave her in exchange.
They walked home by a different route. Every time they came to another path, Simon stopped and looked down it each way, as if he were expecting someone.
“Well, look at that,” said Simon, at the seventh crossing.
There was another wizard coming along the path. He looked like wizards should look. He had a
“I wasn’t trying to read your mind,” Jinx protested. “I can’t! Nobody can.”
“That’s right, chipmunk. Nobody can.”
Confused, Jinx ducked his head down and breathed in steam. He took a cautious sip of the hot drink. It tasted of summer.
Dame Glammer got up and brought some barley cakes, which were crumbly and a bit stale and nowhere near as good as anything that there was to eat in Simon’s house. They ate these and drank their brew, and Simon and Dame Glammer talked a bit about potions and magic and herbs.
“That’s deep Urwald magic, that is, Simon,” said Dame Glammer, nodding at Jinx. “You don’t see that very often. If you want to study Urwald magic, you take a look at that boy.”
“No one can read minds,” said Simon. “Certainly Jinx can’t.”
Dame Glammer grinned. “Ask him.”
“Jinx, what number am I thinking of?”
“Seven?” Jinx guessed.
“Nope.” Simon turned back to Dame Glammer. “I’d have noticed it by now if he could.”
“Hard to notice what you don’t believe in.”
“Jinx, go bring some firewood in,” said Simon.
Jinx put down his empty mug and stood up. It didn’t seem fair—he’d only just got here, and surely Dame Glammer was used to bringing in her own firewood.
“The firewood’s in a shed just around the side of the house, chipmunk,” said Dame Glammer, grinning at him.
He pulled his boots on, put on his coat, and went out. He took a couple of loud, crunching steps in the snow, forward then back, and pressed his ear to Dame Glammer’s front door.
“Of course I don’t,” Dame Glammer was saying. “Do you think I keep something like that in my house?”
“Probably,” said Simon.
“Ha. Nobody ever wanted that for any good purpose.”
“I’d be willing to pay quite a bit for it.”
“And it’s the leaves you want?”
“The roots,” said Simon. “I told you.”
“Root magic’s for things that ought not to see the light of day. Things that were better left undone,” said Dame Glammer.
“Am I supposed to believe you never do that sort of magic yourself?” said Simon.
Dame Glammer chuckled.
“I’ll pay you in gold,” said Simon.
“Gold?” Dame Glammer laughed. “That useless soft metal that you can’t make tools or cooking pots out of? Or am I supposed to hang it in my beautiful ears?”
“Well, not gold then. Anything you like.”
“Anything?” Dame Glammer’s voice was suddenly hungry.
“Within reason,” Simon said quickly. “Anything you care to name right now. No unspecified favors at a later date.”
“Will you give me the dear, trusting little chipmunk?”
“No. Not the chipmunk,” said Simon. “I meant something in the way of money, or, or spices, or—”
“Magic?” said Dame Glammer. “Goodness, don’t you think that chipmunk’s taking an awfully long time with the wood?”
There was the sound of a chair being pushed back from the table, and Jinx turned and ran to get the firewood.
“You’d better stay the night,” said Dame Glammer when Jinx was back inside. “Now that the deepest snow is gone, a lot of folk are out traveling the Path. I expect you might meet anybody .”
“Might we?” said Simon. “Meaning?”
“Meaning there are some people it’s better to meet by daylight.”
Simon nodded slowly. “I see. Right, we’ll stay, then.”
Before they left the next morning, Jinx saw Dame Glammer slip Simon a bundle tied up tightly in a red polka-dot kerchief. Simon tucked it into an inside pocket of his robe. Jinx didn’t see what Simon gave her in exchange.
They walked home by a different route. Every time they came to another path, Simon stopped and looked down it each way, as if he were expecting someone.
“Well, look at that,” said Simon, at the seventh crossing.
There was another wizard coming along the path. He looked like wizards should look. He had a
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