The Stranger

  “His dossier is something of an epic poem,” whispered Juffin. “But at the moment that’s not what we are interested in. You may enjoy reading it, though, in your spare time. I highly recommend it.”

  Houses #4, #5, #6 . . . All the stories bore a certain resemblance to one another. The inhabitants of the Street of Old Coins turned out to be the most miserable wretches in all of Echo: they got sick, lost their loved ones, and then they died. No criminal records, no suicides, nothing mysterious. But a whole street full of terminally ill widows and orphans? And in Echo, of all places, where your average witch-doctor was nearly capable of bringing the dead back to life! Talk about coincidence.

  “House seven,” the bird repeated patiently, “Owner: Tolakan Enn; wife: Feni Enn, no children. In the year 54 of the Code Epoch, the house was left to him by his father, Sir Genelad Enn, the Royal Court’s Chief Supplier. Altogether his inheritance was worth a dozen million crowns.”

  I whistled in surprise. Sir Tolakan was absurdly wealthy. You could live for a week on just one crown—if, of course, you didn’t buy large quantities of the expensive nonsense that is displayed in the windows of antique shops.

  “No criminal record,” the buriwok continued. “They do not socialize. A detailed dossier on these individuals can be found in the archives.”

  “Amazing, isn’t it?” Sir Juffin remarked. “For the last five dozen years already, one unfathomably rich man has been a resident of this wretched slum. Oh, sorry Max, don’t get me wrong. I was just quoting public opinion on the matter. Anyway, of all the people on the whole street, he and his wife are the only ones who are neither stricken with illness nor on their deathbeds.”

  “House eight,” the buriwok continued in a monotonous voice. “Owner: Gina Ursil. No criminal record. The house’s prior owner, Lea Ursil, Gina’s mother, lost the Spark and died in the year 87 of the Codex Epoch. Since then, the house has been empty, as the owner lives in her Estate in Uruland.”

  “I assume you’ve already heard the most important bits,” said Juffin and sighed. “It goes on and on like this. Empty houses, sick widows, frail widowers, dead parents, and children in weak health. And, finally, your little bachelor pad, which, as we already know, has its own mournful history. Well, thank you Tatoon. I think that will be all for now. I’ll ask Kurush for the details.”

  “What about the pub?” I asked. “The Sated Skeleton. I had breakfast over there yesterday. Is it all right?”

  “That’s the brightest place on your cheery little street. Mind you, people work there and eat there, of course, but they don’t sleep there. Even the proprietor, Goppa Talabunn, lives above the Drunken Skeleton, one of his other pubs. I think he has about a dozen of them, but the word skeleton figures in all their names. Goppa thinks it sounds amusing, and most of his clientele thinks the same.”

  Juffin thanked Lookfi and the buriwoks and we set out for the office. Kurush, as always, was dozing on the back of an armchair.

  “Wake up,” said Juffin, tenderly ruffling the feathers on the buriwok’s soft neck. “We need to get some work done.”

  Kurush opened his round eyes and said, “Peanuts first.”

  While the smarty-pants consumed his peanuts, Juffin and I managed to drink down a mug of kamra and even ordered refills.

  “I’m ready,” Kurush announced finally.

  “In that case, start digging through your memory, buddy. We are interested in anything that has to do with Number Seven on the Street of Old Coins. Once you’ve collected all the material, you may begin reciting it. Sir Max is collecting gossip about his neighbors, so I do hope you come up with something worthwhile.”

  Kurush puffed himself up and then fell silent. I imagined him quietly humming like a small computer. Several minutes later, the buriwok shook his feathers, and began.

  “Number Seven on the Street of Old Coins is one of the oldest in Echo. It was built in the year 1140 by a Master Blacksmith, one Stremmi Broh, and later inherited by his son, Kardu Broh, then by his heiress, Vamira Broh. In 2154, during the Epoch of Orders, Vamira Broh sold the house to the Gusot family. Mener Gusot, known as Grand Magician of the Order of Green Moons was born in the house in 2346. Later the house was presented to him as a gift after his coming of age, and he lived there, cut off from the rest of the world. As everyone knows, in the year 2504, Mener Gusot founded the Order of Green Moons. Until the power of the order became common knowledge, they held their meetings at the Grand Magician’s apartment. Number seven on the Street of Old Coins never stood empty. Even after a new residency was built for the Order in 2675, the Grand Magician said that he was involved in ‘especially important work’ there.

  “During the Troubled Times, the Order of Green Moons was one of the first to fall, because it belonged to a number of groups that made no secret of their rivalry with the Order of the Seven-Leaf Clover. Almost all the Order’s disciples, novices, and Magicians were killed. The Grand Magician, Mener Gusot, committed suicide in the courtyard of the burning residency of the Order on the 233rd day of the year 3183 of the Epoch of Orders, five years before the beginning of the Code Epoch. It is known that twelve initiates of the movement survived. According to information from the Order of the Seven-Leaf Clover they all left the Unified Kingdom immediately. Information about each of them can be found in the Main Archive and is updated whenever new information becomes available.

  “All the late Mener Gusot’s property, including the house on the Street of Old Coins, passed into the possession of the King. In the 8th year of the Code Epoch, the house was sold by order of the highest authority to Sir Genelad Enn, Chief Supplier to the Royal Court. In the year 10, Sir Genelad Enn died and Sir Tolakan Enn, Chief Advisor to the Department for the Dispensation of Allowances, and the only son of the deceased, inherited the house. The Estate stood empty until the year 54, when the Enn family moved back from their country home. In the year 55, Sir Tolakan Enn left his position at the Department for the Dispensation of Allowances. Since then, they have lived in a reclusive fashion, employing only day servants. Popular opinion attributes the adoption of such a lifestyle to the extreme stinginess sometimes found in the very wealthy. And give me some more peanuts.”

  After that imperious demand, Kurush fell silent.

  “What a story, Sir Max.” Juffin chuckled, gathering peanuts from his various desk drawers. “So, the father gets the house and dies two years later. All is fine while the house stands empty. In 54 an heir moves in. Not even a year goes by and he undergoes a complete personality change. He leaves his job for no apparent reason, dismisses all the help, and becomes one of Echo’s most reticent inhabitants. And Lady Feni, the most famous socialite of the first half of the century, doesn’t object? His old friends don’t get any explanations, believe me, I’ve checked. There is no solid proof of foul play, however, and when it comes to people’s private lives . . . well, even the richest man in the city has the right to keep to himself. Everyone is perplexed by it at first, but then they just forget about it and get on with their business.”

  “So those two just never leave their house?”

  “Well, not exactly; Lady Feni does. She goes out at least once every dozen days or so. And she is just as cold and impenetrable as back in the day when her beauty was the greatest sensation at the royal court. But she makes no visits of any kind. Lady Feni goes shopping. She buys mounds of stuff—sometimes necessary, but for the most part useless. She seems to have set herself the task of acquiring the most extensive range of hodgepodge in the shortest possible time. However, for a woman of her standing, and with the fortune and the amount of free time she has at her disposal, such behavior is completely normal.”

  “Juffin, you’ve done a lot of research!”

  “Oh Max, I’m afraid I haven’t done enough; but it was all I could manage in such a short amount of time. Just thank the Magicians that you can rest at work. Gather your strength and enjoy life. I’m off to your place. I’ll try my best to sleep in that slum. A hole in the heavens abo
ve you, Max! Just when I thought my days of ascetic adventurism were over . . .”

  Sir Juffin left, and I stayed at the House by the Bridge. All night long I tried to go about honorably fulfilling my boss’s orders to rest and enjoy life. Not the easiest task in the world, but I did my best.

  Morning began, as always, with Sir Kofa’s arrival. He looked befuddled. I must add that this expression suited him far better than his usual squeamish grimace of unending boredom.

  “The robberies have continued, Max,” he reported. “You know, this is starting to get absurd. And absurdity is always unnerving. People are now saying that the robberies are being committed by the same person. But how does this elusive creature manage to visit houses at opposite ends of Echo at the same time? That’s what I want to know. And if the perpetrators are indeed different people, then what manner of genius was able to train them so well? And, more important, why? So that even Boboota gets the news that it might be a single criminal gang working together? Right then, son. Tell Juffin to get in touch with me if he gets bored. Of course, these events aren’t really interesting, nor are they matters for our department to deal with. But as the saying goes, at night even a skinny woman can seem like a blanket.”

  “Better a small fish than an empty dish,” I translated automatically. “I’ll give him your message, Sir Kofa, but I have a feeling Sir Juffin won’t be bored today. I found a little job for him to do . . .”

  “Oh, to hell with the robberies, then! They can wait for a rainy day. Have fun, Max. I’m planning to stop in at a few more places on my way home, so if you’ll excuse me.”

  I waited around for another half an hour before receiving a message from Juffin. I’m quite fine, except for the bath that awaits me in your tiny tubs. I’ll be out soon, so let’s call over to the Glutton for breakfast.

  With great enjoyment I took to fussing over our menu. By the time Juffin arrived, our office had all the qualities of a good restaurant: a splendid centerpiece on the table, tempting aromas, and a hungry gourmet exemplified in my person. Sir Venerable Head was satisfied.

  “Allow me to report, sir,” said Juffin, who parodied a new recruit just returned from his first assignment. “The results of the investigative experiment just conducted prove that: a) there is something inhabiting the house opposite, and b) it is scared of me. Or, alternatively, it is disgusted by me. Or finds me unappetizing. Or it subscribes to the Echo Hustle and Bustle and is an admiring and devoted fan. In any case, no one so much as touched a hair on my head. No, it was more amusing than that. At first, I dreamed I was lying on that dinner table of yours; but it lasted for only a second. Then I stopped dreaming. All at once there was nothing. I was free as a bird and I could sleep for as long as I wished! But I wouldn’t let myself off the hook. I tried to close in on our mysterious friend myself. He had already surrounded himself with such unassailable defenses that inside that worthy mansion I wasn’t able to find anyone except its owners, who were fast asleep. Still, we did find out something new.”

  “Like what?”

  “That this could not possibly be the work of human hand. That is to say, there might have been someone who awoke other, inhuman, forces that are inhabiting the house. As a matter of fact, I suspect that history even preserved that person’s name for the curious. Of all the former inhabitants of the house, who but the Grand Magician of the Order of Green Moons could have pulled off such a prank? That doesn’t change the fact that you are being harassed by some wretch from another world, though. Pretty exotic, huh?”

  “I thought I was the exotic one,” I spluttered. “Well, what does it want from me, anyway?”

  “What do you think? Yum-yum!” said Juffin, and let out a bloodthirsty chuckle. “In any case, its intentions are unkind, make no mistake! Why else would residents of the neighborhood be kicking the bucket left and right? Let’s see, what else do we know about the enemy? Judging from last night, I would say that he acts carefully and is choosy. He wouldn’t risk coming up against a serious opponent such as myself. Furthermore, our little friend makes mistakes sometimes, which became quite clear today when he first invaded my dreams and then shamelessly fled. That’s comforting. I do not like getting involved with unmitigated evil—it’s a lot of bother. No matter how you look at it, Sir Max, the information that we have now is simply not enough. So you’re going to have to undergo nightmares for the sake of the cause for another few nights. I’ll shut myself up in the office and oversee your adventures from here. But don’t you even think of going to bed tonight without the protective amulet I was considerate enough to provide you with!”

  “You mean that rag?”

  “I mean the kerchief of the Grand Magician of the Order of Clandestine Weeds. Your frivolousness is killing me! Without that ‘rag,’ as you so irreverently call it, no one can guarantee that you will ever wake up again. Do you fancy that prospect?”

  “Not particularly. I won’t forget, Juffin. I can’t believe I forgot about it yesterday! Could that unknown beast, hidden in ambush, have caused my absent-mindedness?”

  “That could very well be. All the worse, Sir Max, all the worse.”

  “If you really are going to be looking out for me, then please recite the safety measures to me just before I climb into bed. I’m either becoming absentminded, or the creature is turning me into an idiot.”

  “You’re right. Stranger things have happened. In any case, an extra reminder never hurt anyone. You’re not eating enough. Don’t let nonsense like this spoil your appetite. Problems come and go, but your belly stays with you. Its needs are sacred.”

  “I promise I’ll be good, sir.”

  And indeed I was. I devoured a plateful of food, and after wiping my plate clean, I reached for a second helping. Sir Juffin Hully looked at me with the approval of a loving grandmother.

  Soon it was time to go back home and see this night’s screening of Nightmare on Elm Street, starring poor Max. I can’t say that I was really looking forward to it. Now I was struck by my own idiotic heroism, under the influence of which I had refused to stay over at Juffin’s the other day. It was supposedly in the “interests of our mission,” but to tell the truth, it was just plain stubbornness.

  Home was cozy, in spite of it all. Rays of sunshine beat through the new chocolate colored curtains I had procured to turn the bright light of day into the warm half-gloom of an underwater grotto. Of course, the main reason for my purchase had been to get rid of the view from the window, which only a few days before had been one of the main arguments in favor of my choosing this place as my home.

  I noticed the evidence of Juffin’s presence in the living room (an unwashed glass and an empty kamra jug), and in the bedroom (the pillows and blankets had migrated to the far corner of the gigantic bed, and my library at the head of the bed had undergone thorough censorship, with the consequent scattering of all books deemed improper about the room). Following a strange logic of free association, I started thinking about cats. As soon as this is all over and done with, I’m getting a kitten, I promised myself. I tried to settle in more comfortably.

  Hey Max, Juffin’s call jangled in my head, importunate as the sound of an alarm clock. Don’t forget to put on the scarf!

  Sinning Magicians! I nearly forgot the talisman! How was it possible? I was so frightened there could have been no question of absent-mindedness. I quickly wrapped the protective cloth around my neck.

  Looks like you were right, Max. You’re able to focus your attention on anything but matters of your own safety. Thoughts about the amulet were blocked, and in a very interesting way, I might add. It’s too bad you wouldn’t be able to understand my explanation of the matter yet. It seems we’ve come upon a very curious phenomenon. Perhaps you have some other amulets as well? Just objects that you especially like, or things that calm you down, like a child with his favorite toy. Lie down with things like that arranged from head to toe. They can’t do any harm, and who knows what small talismans are capable of? And don’t huff and pu
ff so much trying to send me a message! I’m near you all the time in a sense. I see everything and I hear everything. Everything is under control. So just relax. What was it that you said recently? Over and out? Well, that’s all. So long!

  I tried to think. Amulets. What sorts of amulets could I have? Actually, I do have one thing I could probably use: the balsam box from Sir Makluk’s bedroom, which was my very first trophy. I had removed it from the place it had so clearly not wanted to stay, and I had the feeling that the trinket was especially fond of me. So I placed my little friend carefully at the head of the bed.

  But what else? Was that all? Except maybe the Child of the Crimson Pearl, which was, after all, a royal gift. It couldn’t hurt to have it around. And the third volume of Sir Manga Malifaro’s Encyclopedia of the World, too. I really had grown used to falling asleep with it, like a child with its teddy bear.

  I built an elegant barricade of amulets and touched my neck to make sure that the magic rag was still there. Then I lay down in bed with a distinct feeling of despair. I flipped through a book for a while. Sleep crept into my eyes stealthily and quickly, although at first I was sure that today’s experiment might fail due to “technical difficulties.” To tell the truth, I usually get insomnia from fear and stress. But not tonight. I felt as though I’d been pumped full of sleeping pills; and I bet that Freddy Kruger next door had seen to it that his patient had no problems with fitful sleep. I must remember to ask Juffin whether that was true, I thought, falling asleep. Then again, why bother. Wasn’t it obvious?

  This time the nightmare wasn’t as horrid. I was conscious of the fact that I was sleeping. I remembered who I was, why I was there, what I was waiting for, and so forth. I didn’t feel Juffin’s presence, but at least I knew who he was subconsciously.