The Stranger

  Juffin looked at me so meaningfully that I knew there was something else in store.

  “Right then, I’m off!”

  Just as I was standing up to leave, I remembered something and grinned cunningly. “You still owe me dinner, Melifaro! As far as I remember, you didn’t have to pay a farthing in the Hunchback.”

  “There’s only one thing on your mind!” Melifaro exclaimed. “As soon as you get up from one table, you’re making a beeline for the next. Don’t you care about anything in the World besides food?”

  “Besides food? Of course I do! I’m also fond of bathrooms. Like my best friend, General Boboota Box. He’s taught me a lot.”

  “But that’s very unfortunate, Max,” Lonli-Lokli said mournfully. “There are so many wonderful things in the World. Don’t you like to read?”

  “I was only joking, Shurf,” I said, and left with a dignified air to the accompaniment of the friendly guffaws of Juffin and Melifaro. Only Lonli-Lokli had the presence of mind to wish me goodnight.

  Juffin’s call reached me when I was already in the office.

  I didn’t let you go home because I wanted you to try to fall asleep in my chair. You must try it, at least by around sunrise. I’m not joking! Other than that, do as you wish. Over and out.

  I was puzzled. In any case I didn’t feel like sleeping. “Do as you wish.” That sounded tempting. I thought a bit, then sent a call to Melamori. I was glad to learn that she was in good spirits.

  I’m very sorry. We closed the case already, so my morning order about the eateries has become invalid.

  I know, Max. But maybe the hunchback had accomplices? They could be making King Banjee in my favorite café on the Victory of Gurig VII Square. Sir Kofa went home to sleep before I did. So if you’re ordering me to—

  Of course I’m ordering you. The Unified Kingdom will simply perish if we don’t carry out an inspection. And I can’t go there alone. I’m terribly scared of the dark. I’m waiting for you. Over and out.

  I even tossed my head in delight—how beautifully everything was turning out!

  She arrived in half an hour, gazing at me in joyous anticipation, as only she could.

  “Only no dark, deserted streets,” Melamori whispered with a smile. “But who will take your place on duty?”

  “Kurush, of course. Who else?”

  The buriwok opened one eye just a crack, then puffed up its feathers again.

  We went for a walk along the well-lighted streets. And where else was there to walk, may I ask? In Echo, praise be the Magicians, there are no dark alleyways or backstreets.

  “I’m probably a terrible bore, Max,” said Melamori. “I promised you that I would try to figure out why I was afraid of you. But I haven’t been able to. And that’s probably very bad, because—well, because . . .” her voice trailed away and she stared gloomily at her glass.

  “What is there to understand?” I grinned. “I’m just a very scary fellow. Don’t worry. Everyone’s afraid of me. And don’t make a tragedy out of it. In fact, you don’t have to try to figure anything out. In matters like this, people should just consult their hearts.”

  “But I have two hearts!” Melamori retorted. “One that is brave, and another that is wise. And they want completely different things!”

  “Well, then you’ll just have to draw up a schedule. Let one of them lead the way today, and tomorrow it will be the other one’s turn. That’s a solution.”

  “Why are you in such a hurry, Max? Life is so long. It’s good not to know everything there is to know, and everything that is to come. When everything has already happened . . . something wonderful disappears . . . I don’t have the words to explain this.”

  “We’ve had different upbringings, Melamori. I prefer things to be more definite. Somewhat, anyway.”

  “Take me home, Max,” Melamori said suddenly. “I’ve overestimated my own abilities—in all respects. Please don’t be angry.”

  “Oh, I’m not angry,” I said. “Maybe we can just do this more often? Walking together, I mean. While your two hearts are trying to sort things out between them, I would have a bit more happiness.”

  “Certainly, Max,” Melamori said, “as long as it doesn’t annoy you. The walks, I mean. They’re not exactly what people expect when they have feelings for someone. I just happen to be a stubborn exception to the rule.”

  “When I was young, living very far away from here,” I intoned like a thousand-year old man, “I had some difficult times. Let’s just say I had only one pie, but I wanted to have ten. But I never threw away that single pie just because I wanted more. I’ve always been a sensible fellow, Melamori.”

  “I understand, Max,” said Melamori, and smiled. “I would never have believed that you had to get by on just a single pie.”

  “I still do, as you see, in a certain sense. Let’s go, you look like you’re about to drop off to sleep.”

  “I feel like I’m already dreaming,” Melamori murmured. Then I took her home.

  When we arrived I was rewarded with a playful, smacking kiss on the cheek. Don’t let yourself be seduced by that, I thought to myself. That innocent kiss doesn’t mean anything But my head was spinning with joy. My breathing exercises were powerless to combat it.

  I took a roundabout way back to the office. It was easier to think while I was walking than it would be sitting in the chair, and I certainly had things to think about. About Melamori’s two hearts, for instance. If it were any other girl, the confession about the two quarreling hearts would have struck me as a silly, high-flown metaphor. But what did I actually know about the physiology of the inhabitants of Echo? Very little, when it came right down to it.

  Returning to the House by the Bridge, I sent a call to Lady Tanita. My modest experience in matters like this told me that she would hardly be sleeping soundly, even at this late hour.

  Good night, Lady Tanita. I wanted you to know that at around sundown I killed the man who caused Karwen’s death.

  I decided not to explain to the widow that her husband’s horrific death had come about, in fact, by chance. It was unlikely to comfort her in any way.

  Thank you, Sir Max, she answered. Revenge is better than nothing. You know, I took your advice. I’ve already moved so I can start a new life. And that’s better than nothing, too.

  When you open a new tavern, send me a call. I’ll definitely come by and save you from any possible chance of bankruptcy. Good night, Lady Tanita.

  I don’t think you’ll care much for what my new cook prepares, but you must come anyway. Good night, Sir Max. And thank you again—for the advice, and for avenging me.

  When the invisible connection with Lady Tanita was broken, I was again alone, except for the sweetly sleeping Kurush. Soon, sleep stole over me, as well, and recalling Sir Juffin’s order, I dozed dutifully in his chair.

  I was extremely uncomfortable. My back ached, my legs went numb. I woke up every five minutes, then slipped immediately into slumber again. “Don’t fidget, don’t get distracted,” the voice of Maba Kalox, the most mysterious creature in this improbable World, repeated to me in my dream. I couldn’t really see his face, though. Toward morning, I also dreamed about Juffin, but I didn’t have the strength to understand, much less remember, the contents of these importunate visions.

  “You look terrible, Max.”

  The cheerful voice of Juffin restored me to life. It was morning. I felt quite sick.

  “Were you playing tricks on me me?” I asked wearily. “What were you and Sir Maba up to?”

  “Do you remember?” Juffin asked. “Do you remember what you dreamed?”

  “Not really. Only that you were there, and it was exhausting, I hasten to add. Well, and Sir Maba’s voice—he told me ‘not to fidget.’ What was it about, Juffin?”

  “Never mind. You’ll go home, sleep a bit, and you’ll be as good as new. Before you go, though, try making some kamra again.”

  “Juffin, are you taking revenge on me for Boboota?” I
asked. “What a beast you are, after all.”

  The chief looked at me with genuine compassion.

  “Why, is it that bad? Please, Max, try it. I beg you. Honestly, I’m not teasing you. Or if I am, just the very slightest bit.”

  I went downstairs and had a good wash. I did feel better, though my body still ached all over. Returning to the office, I clattered the dishes around humorlessly. Sir Juffin Hully behaved like a director on premier night. He was terribly nervous, but he tried hard to conceal it. I hurried to get the culinary experiment over with.

  “Here,” I said. “Who are you planning to torture? What’s that you say—the hunchback’s waitress wouldn’t talk? Let her drink that, the old shrew.”

  To my surprise, Juffin not only sniffed the contents of the pot, he even tasted it himself. When he tasted it a second time, my jaw dropped as far as it could without falling off altogether.

  “Don’t you want to try it, Max?”

  “Come off it,” I said, sighing. “That’s all I need.”

  “As you wish.” Sir Juffin filled his mug to the brim. “It’s not quite as good as the kamra in the Glutton; but still, I like it.”

  “What are you talking about? Why are you drinking that stuff? Are you getting stingy? I can put it on my tab in the Glutton—I’m rich and generous. Don’t do it, sir!”

  “Don’t you get it, Max? Try it yourself—stop fooling around!”

  I tried it. The kamra wasn’t as good as the Glutton’s; but it was better than the kamra in the Sated Skeleton in my neighborhood.

  “Did you teach me how to make kamra in my sleep?” The truth was starting to dawn on me.

  “Not me—Maba! It wasn’t within my powers. In time I may be able to teach you to move between Worlds—but not how to cook. It wasn’t even easy for Maba.”

  “But why? Do you need a new chef?”

  “Far from it, son. There’s no power in the World that will make a good chef out of you. To be honest, Maba and I just wanted to find out what we were worth. We weren’t sure we could do it. But now we know that no one else can match us. And it may come in handy for you. Go home to bed, poor fellow. Tonight you can enjoy life. Come back tomorrow exactly one hour before sunset. We have an important call to pay.”

  “To Sir Maba?” I asked, brightening.

  “Dream on! Life can’t be one unbroken chain of pleasures. We’re going to Jafax.”

  “To the Main Residence of the Order of the Seven-Leaf Clover!”

  “Right you are. We’re going to reshape history.”

  “What do you mean by that, Juffin?”

  “I’ll tell you later. Go get some rest. Good morning, Max.”

  When I got home, I snuggled down under the blanket on my bed and buried my nose in Armstrong’s soft flank. Ella purred loudly in my ear.

  “Happy New Year, little furries,” I said to the cats. They yawned indifferently. I also yawned, and then blanked out.

  CHAPTER SIX

  VICTIMS OF CIRCUMSTANCE

  WHEN I WOKE IT WAS NEARLY DARK IN THE BEDROOM. THIS WAS a record—it had been a long time had passed since I had slept till sundown.

  Are you sleeping? Well, I’ll be, mate! Melifaro’s call resounded in my sleep-muddled brain. Good for me. I just earned a crown.

  What for? I asked, uncomprehending.

  Nothing much—it’s just that I made a bet with Melamori. She claimed you’d wake up before sundown, and I bet on later. I was ready to lose, but you’ve done me a good turn!

  So now you owe me not one, but two meals, I said. Your debt to me is growing by leaps and bounds. Over and out.

  I yawned and dragged myself downstairs, my head buzzing like I had a hangover. Ella and Armstrong were slumbering by their bowls in the middle of the front room. Urf, the farmer’s son, a junior official at the Ministry of Perfect Public Order, had most likely come in while I was sleeping. The cats looked full and contented, and their fur had been carefully groomed—not by me, of course. In childhood I sometimes frightened my parents by sleepwalking down the corridor, but I would hardly have known how to carry out such a delicate hairdressing operation with my eyes shut.

  When most of the sticky cobwebs of sleep had fallen away, I began feeling like a person again. The delivery boy from the Sated Skeleton whined plaintively at the door. Just as I was about to answer it, I realized I hadn’t managed to get dressed yet, so I quickly wrapped myself in Armstrong’s colorful mat. It was a far cry from the Mantle of Death, but I wasn’t prepared to open the door completely naked. One look at the boy informed me that a cat’s mat wasn’t the most appropriate domestic attire either; but by then it was too late. My poor, beleaguered reputation!

  I closed the door behind the disconcerted youth, returned the mat to its customary place, and happily sat down to breakfast. After the first mug of kamra, my head grew less fuzzy. It occurred to me that Lady Melamori could have found dozens of other pretexts for a bet with Melifaro. She probably wasn’t against taking a stroll with me, but she was embarrassed to take the initiative. The argument about the hour I awoke was an excellent way not only of getting information about my habits, but of tactfully reminding me of her existence. So I immediately got in touch with this incomprehensible creature.

  Good day, my lady!

  Not day—evening, Sir Sleepyhead. I lost a whole crown because of you!

  I’m guilty. I repent. But I had a terrible night. I dreamed about Juffin. Can you imagine? You should pity me, not scold me. And I need to be aired out, as well, like an old winter looxi.

  I’ll fetch you in half an hour. Sir Juffin informed me in strictest confidence that you would be free tonight, so I have great plans.

  First I nearly died of happiness. Then I went to get dressed. If Lady Melamori caught me wrapped in Armstrong’s mat, my chances would plummet, no doubt. Or . . . would they?

  When the Master of Pursuit appeared on my doorstep, looking a bit dazed by her own boldness, I was already in fine fettle and prepared for anything. “Anything” in this case meant walking thousands of miles, if need be, along Echo’s mosaic sidewalks, in the company of Lady Melamori. According to her, long walks in one another’s company are just what a man and a woman who are not indifferent to each other need. It was possible that I had been hasty with my conclusions about “each other”; but Melamori’s tender look confirmed my most daring conjectures.

  This time we traipsed all the way to the New City (about an hour and a half from my house, by the way). Melamori managed to tell me heaps of new gossip, but I only listened out of the corner of my ear. I was too happy to be all ears.

  “There’s a remarkable place around here,” she said, slackening her pace. “An old mansion with a garden. In the evening they sell some vile drink here, that’s why it’s so deserted.”

  “I know of many deserted places with vile drinks. My house, for instance,” I laughed. “It wasn’t as far to seek.”

  “This is a special place. It used to be the Country Residence of the Order of the Secret Grass. Back then, Echo was much smaller than it is now, you know. I’m sure you’ll like it. Here it is.”

  We passed through the gateway, the appearance of which was none too promising esthetically. The first impression was deceiving. A narrow dark flight of stairs leading to a neglected garden, illuminated by the bluish light of tiny glass globes filled with some incandescent gas. Here there were none of your ordinary small tables—only low benches nestled among the evergreen Kaxxa bushes, which resembled the juniper of my homeland. The air was wonderfully cold and transparent. It didn’t slow the blood, but just chilled the skin, like menthol. My head spun. It seemed to me then that I was amazingly young, and the world around me was full of mystery. If you think about it, that was the honest truth, and just what I should have been feeling.

  I broke into a smile.

  “You’re right, this is a marvelous place!”

  “Yes. But don’t even think of ordering kamra. It’s disgusting here. Better get something stronger?
??a drink like that can’t be spoiled under even the most adverse circumstances.”

  “Stronger? Don’t forget, it’s still morning for me.”

  “Oh yes. Of course . . . well, all the worse for you, Sir Max. I’m going to indulge, with your permission—it’s already long since evening for me.”

  “Indulge to your heart’s content. I hope they can find water from some sort of sacred spring around here. That’s what I need right now.”

  They didn’t serve water there, alas, so I was forced to content myself with a glass of some kind of sour fruit compote. Melamori and I made quite a couple—she, a delicate creature gulping down the most potent Jubatic Juice, and me, the hefty fellow in the Mantle of Death, sipping bland fruit compote.

  “If you want to talk, this is where to do it,” Melamori blurted out, already blushing from the effects of her drink.

  Then she went quiet, as though frightened at the sound of her own voice. Just as I was about to nudge her back to life, she started up again unexpectedly.

  “As for my fears, Max—I’ve dug up a few things. So tell me, what color are your eyes?”

  “They’re . . . brown, I think,” I stammered.

  I was stunned. Sinning Magicians! What was happening to my memory? How could I forget the color of my own eyes?

  “Um-hmm. You see, you don’t even know yourself. Take a look,” said Melamori and held up a small mirror she pulled out of the folds of her looxi.

  A pair of gray eyes, round with surprise, stared back at me.

  “What’s gotten into me? I completely forgot! Amazing!”

  “You forgot? It’s no wonder you forgot. Yesterday they really were brown. In the evening, that is. And in the morning they were green, like a descendant of a Draxx. When I went to Headquarters three days before the End of the Year, they were blue. I even fancied they looked just like Uncle Kima’s.”