Alone

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.