The reason I ask if his probability stuff protects him or completely incaps the opponent is because The Jonah can use entropy magic to make things that are normally impossible happen to as many as a dozen beings at once.
A prime example of him doing just that:
I'd never been able to face the Harrowing, only run from them. My very own pursuing demons. The first of the Harrowing grabbed one edge of our barricading table with a puffy corpse-pale hand and threw it aside as though it were nothing. Dead Boy braced himself, and I pushed Rossignol behind me, sheltering her with my body. And then all the Harrowing stopped and turned their featureless faces, as though listening to something only they could hear. They started to shake and shudder, and then one by one they fell apart into rot and slime, slumping shapelessly to the floor. One moment a dozen menacing figures were closing in on us, and the next there was nothing but thick puddles of reeking ooze, spreading slowly. Dead Boy and I looked at each other, and then we both glared round sharply at the sound of soft, mocking laughter. And there, standing on the stage at the end of the room was Billy Lathem, the Jonah, in his smart, smart suit. He looked very pleased with himself. Standing on either side of him in their undertakers' clothes were Mr. and Mrs. Cavendish.
"I told you, John," said the Jonah. "I am far more powerful than you ever realised. I am entropy, the end of all things, and not even sendings like those ugly bastards can stand against me. Now, you have something that doesn't belong to you. And I have come to repossess it."
| | |
| | ~ Nightingale's Lament | |
And for some much-needed clarification on what the Harrowing
are, they're "constructs" that John and a few others have difficulty affecting because, among other reasons, they just aren't
real in the normal sense and nothing "real" affects them properly unless it's absolutely ridiculously powerful.
"Would I be right in thinking events have just taken a distinct turn for the worse?"
"Oh yes," I said. "They're the Harrowing. The hounds my enemies send after me. You can't hurt or kill them because they're not real. Just constructs. And there's nothing you or I can do to stop them."
"How do you normally deal with them?" said Rossignol.
"I run like hell. I've spent a lot of my life running from the Harrowing." I raised my gift again, desperately trying to find a way out, but there wasn't one. There was no exit close enough to reach, and the overturned table wouldn't slow them down for a second. The dozen vicious figures moved towards us, relentless as cancer, implacable as destiny.
| | |
| | ~ Nightingale's Lament | |
Why can't someone as ridiculous as John Taylor affect these guys? Well...actually, that's probably major PIS considering all of the things John does with his powers in later books, but anyway...
Even if you take them as just being "not-real constructs" and ignore John's apparent inability to affect them (I honestly would, since it causes a few logical problems otherwise), that still makes them fairly ridiculous to deal with no matter what your powers are, and Billy caused twelve of them to just melt into rotting slime out of nowhere. So my new question is, what exactly are the highest extents of Karen and Mamoru's powers? Because protecting against each other is nice and all, but if the potency of their stuff doesn't compare to the Jonah, and he's not left completely and utterly incapacitated right out of the gate, he's going to blink his eyes or wave his hand in a short gesture and all of that luck isn't going to matter anymore.
