The Stranger

  “What are you doing, miss?” There was distinct note of panic in Melifaro’s voice.

  I was probably taking a risk. This peace-loving fellow was as dangerous as anyone in our charming company. If he had taken me for some Mutinous Magician newly returned to Echo, the matter might have ended in a skirmish. But praise be the Magicians, the lovely red-haired Lady Marilyn was above suspicion.

  I opened the bottle and took a tiny swallow. There was no need to do this—even without the Elixir I was able to turn the world upside down now. But Lady Marilyn and I wanted a little nip of something.

  “What do you think you’re doing, Ms. Box?!” It was pitiful to look at Melifaro. “That’s Sir Juffin Hully’s desk. You can’t dig around in there!”

  “I can,” I replied calmly. “We inhabitants of County Vook love snooping around in other people’s desks. Sometimes you can even find a bit of fresh horse dung. So, put that in your pipe and smoke it, Melifaro.”

  Melifaro’s face fell. I seemed to have gone slightly overboard. I didn’t even want revenge anymore.

  “Oh, come on, old friend,” I said softly. “Haven’t you ever been to a carnival?”

  Melifaro, who was made of pretty stern stuff, took what was coming to him. He laughed nervously. I thought back on the conversation we had just had—and then it was no holds barred.

  Sir Juffin Hully found us sitting on the floor locked in an embrace, tears of laughter streaming down our faces. We wheezed weakly, since we were already hoarse from laughing so hard.

  “Max you were such a romantic boy,” the chief remarked acidly. “You were even too shy to go to the Quarter of Trysts. And what do I see here? All it took was for you to acquire a bust and to spend twenty-four hours in the company of Lady Sotofa—and you fall into the arms of a complete stranger.”

  “Sir Juffin,” Melifaro moaned. “If you leave him like he is, I swear I’m going to marry him!”

  “I won’t marry you, sir. You deceived me,” I said coquettishly. “Oh, Juffin, you should have heard him.”

  Melifaro and I started howling with laughter again.

  “What exactly has been going on here?” asked Juffin.

  “Nothing I wouldn’t tell my mama,” I said. Now Sir Juffin joined in our laughter.

  Fifteen minutes later, Melifaro and I had come to our senses and even found it possible to relate to Juffin the circumstances of our “acquaintance” with one another.

  I had to hand it to Melifaro—he didn’t hesitate to recount his own idiocy in the most lurid colors.

  “Well, Lady Marilyn, you’ve made some progress,” the chief said. “And who was so shocked by the prospect of turning into a woman two days ago?”

  “I didn’t realize I’d be such a beauty. By the way, someone invited me out to dinner. You haven’t reconsidered, sir?” I said, winking at Melifaro.

  “With a beauty like you, I’d go to the end of the world! Where will we go after dinner—your place or mine?”

  “My place, naturally. My papa happens to be home. General Boboota, if you recall. He’ll tell you all about his military exploits. Sir Juffin, am I free this evening, or do we have a new lady colleague? Does the Mantle of Death look becoming on me, boys?” My new persona behaved much more frivolously than the old one.

  “I don’t think a walk through the city would hurt you, Lady Marilyn. And you, Sir Melifaro, don’t lose your head over this flirt. The day after tomorrow she abandons you and sets off on her honeymoon with Sir Lonli-Lokli.”

  Melifaro whistled under his breath, beginning to get the picture.

  “So this is serious, gentlemen? And I thought—”

  “That Max and I had lost our minds from boredom? Take your new girlfriend for a walk. And make sure she answers to her own name and doesn’t go into the men’s room by mistake.”

  “I can assure you, everything’s in order in that department, judging from her recent performance,” Melifaro said. “What kind of life is this, Sir Juffin? As soon as you meet a nice girl, she turns out to be Mr. Bad Dream. And to top it off, she’s going to marry Lonli-Lokli! Do you think I’m made of stone?”

  “You? You’re made of iron, beyond the shadow of a doubt!” the chief consoled him. “Max—er, Lady Marilyn, I mean, Sir Shurf and I will be expecting you tomorrow at sundown. You probably won’t be going home again, so try to arrange all your affairs and pack. And don’t worry about your furry beasts. Our junior employees will soon be climbing all over each other, vying to be the ones to look after them.”

  I grew a bit sad thinking of my poor kitties. What a ne’er-do-well they had for a master.

  “I think Ella’s expecting kittens soon,” I said. “Future royal felines. Though she’s so fat already that you’d never know.”

  “Oh, Max, if only I had your problems,” Juffin said. “Sir Melifaro, grab your heartthrob and be off. I have a meeting to attend with Mr. Poisoner.”

  “You know, Lady Marilyn, with such a sweet little face and Mr. Bad Dream’s amusing tricks, you’d make an ideal wife,” Melifaro said, seating me in the amobiler.

  “I’ll say,” I replied, and then decided to ask about something I never would have dared mention in my original state. “And what about Lady Melamori?”

  “Lady Melamori mumbles your name in her sleep, if you must know. And she devotes the rest of her time to deep, long-winded monologues about the advantages of living alone. What happened between the two of you, I’d like to know? Perhaps Lady Marilyn likes to gossip?”

  “Perhaps she does. Only nothing happened between us except fate. We met in the Quarter of Trysts, to my misfortune.”

  “Oh, that happens,” Melifaro sighed sympathetically. Then he grinned from ear to ear. “On the other hand, if you become a real girl, my mother will get a chance to marry me off at last! And remember—I’ve never said anything like that to a girl before.”

  “Thanks. But I’m not ready for family life just yet. Let’s go. You still owe me dinner.”

  Three hours later, a full, happy, and slightly tipsy Lady Marilyn stopped her amobiler by the doors of Lady Melamori’s house. Her woman’s heart told me I should, so I didn’t try to argue. Not deliberating too long about my actions, I sent a call to Melamori.

  It’s me, Max. Peek out for a second, I’m standing at the entrance. I can’t, Max. Melamori returned the call. Do you know what you’re doing? We can’t see each other for the time being. Until . . . until it feels right.

  If I dragged myself here in the middle of the night, it’s probably not so that things between us would become even worse. Just take a look outside—then you can decide whether to let me in or not. I swear by Sir Juffin’s favorite pajamas that you won’t regret it. No one but me will ever surprise you like this again. I’m waiting.

  Healthy curiosity proved stronger than her apprehension. In a minute, the tip of Melamori’s nose was poking out the door.

  “Who are you?” she asked sharply. “And where is Sir Max? Is this some kind of joke?”

  “Of course it’s a joke,” I smiled. “And a very good one, too, don’t you think?”

  “You . . . What do you mean by that?”

  “Try to get on my trail. All your doubts will disappear with the wave of a hand. Well, what are you waiting for?”

  Melamori jumped out of her slippers quick as a flash, and in another flash she was standing at my back. A few seconds of constrained silence, and then a sharp intake of air.

  “Oh, Sir Max, what’s happened?” she asked, her lips turning pale. “Did someone cast a spell on you?”

  “Yep. It’s only for a while, though. I have to marry Lonli-Lokli right away. Shhhhh! It’s a deep, dark secret. Maybe you’ll let me come in after all?”

  “I think it will be all right,” Melamori said, smiling. “Will you please explain to me what’s happening?”

  “Of course I will. Two girls have to have a heart-to-heart chat about something. You know, I thought it would be hard for us to become friends, since . . . Well, you u
nderstand exactly what I mean. But being girls—it’s just right for a start. By the way, I’m Marilyn. I think it will be easier for you that way.”

  “Oh yes, much easier.”

  We went into the living room. Melamori suddenly began laughing in relief.

  “Sit down, Lady Marilyn. It’s wonderful you’ve come! I wanted very much to see you.”

  “Female intuition,” I grinned slyly. “It’s a formidable power. By the way, it tells me that you have some kind of souvenir from Uncle Kima around somewhere. What better time than now to let the drink flow freely? I’m leaving the day after tomorrow.”

  “Forever?” her voice expressed genuine anguish.

  “Forever? Don’t get your hopes up. For a few dozen days in all.”

  “Where?”

  “To Kettari. Our chief succumbed to an attack of nostalgia and ordered us to dig up some cobblestones from the streets of his youth. Open your cache, sweetheart. When I have too much to drink, it will loosen my tongue and I’ll tell all. Honest I will.”

  “Would you like to drink Gulp of Fate, Marilyn?” Melamori asked. I shuddered from the unexpectedness of it.

  “Gulp of Fate? Hmm, it seems we’ve already tried that before.”

  “I wonder where you could have tried that wine, Marilyn,” Melamori parried, as calm as ever. “It’s very rare.”

  “It certainly is rare,” I laughed, feeling with surprise how the last heavy stone dropped from my heart. “Of course I’d like a drink. Who am I to refuse Gulp of Fate?”

  “Wonderful.”

  The ancient wine turned out to be dark, almost black, in color. Some hardly visible blue sparks played at the bottom of the glass.

  “It’s a good sign, Marilyn,” Melamori said, tapping the edge of the glass with her finger. “Kima told me that these little flames appear only if the wine is being drunk by people who . . . how can I explain it. People between whom everything is right. Understand? Not ‘good,’ and not ‘bad,’ but right.”

  “I think I do understand. Only I have another way of saying it: for real. Am I expressing myself properly?”

  “If there’s one thing you and Max really know how to do, Marilyn, it’s express yourself ‘properly.’ Taste good?”

  “You bet!”

  “Then tell me your story. I can take an oath of silence if you wish.”

  “I need no oath from you, Melamori. Just watch and listen. Lady Marilyn and I are real storytellers.”

  And I narrated in great detail the story of the strange costume ball, with me starring as the beauty queen. Melifaro the lover was the hero of the finale.

  “My goodness! I’ve never laughed so hard in my life!” Melamori said, wiping away tears. “Poor Melifaro. He has no luck with girls. You should have given him a chance, Marilyn. Where will you find another boy like him?”

  “Maybe you’re right. I’ll take your advice into consideration. Look, it’s already getting light! Will you have time to get some sleep?”

  “Oh, I’ll just be late for work. No big deal. I’ll tell Sir Juffin that I was giving you lessons in feminine wiles.”

  “Yes, those will come in handy, considering who my future life companion is supposed to be.” I struggled to get up from the low divan. “I’m going to go get some sleep, Melamori. It’s time you did, too. Better too little than none at all.”

  “It doesn’t matter how much, but how you sleep . . . And today I’ll sleep like the dead. Thank you, Marilyn. Please tell Sir Max that it was an excellent idea.”

  “I’ll tell him,” I yawned and waved to her. “Good morning, Melamori.”

  I’d like to note that Marilyn also slept like the dead, which hadn’t been the case for a long time with my good old friend Max. This girl had a first-rate heart of stone, much more reliable than mine.

  At sundown I reported to the House by the Bridge. I had a suitcase with me that accommodated a large bottle of Elixir of Kaxar, masses of clothes (Lady Marilyn enjoyed shopping), and my enchanted pillow—“Stopgap in the Chink between Worlds,” in the words of my greatest benefactor, Sir Maba Kalox. Whatever might happen, setting out for the unknown without my one and only miracle-method for getting a normal cigarette just wasn’t my style.

  Sir Juffin Hully was chatting animatedly with some middle-aged, suntanned blond fellow in a light-blue and white looxi. He had the appearance of a sports coach: muscular arms, ruddy complexion, and a stern, unsmiling expression. Unwilling to interrupt their conversation, I sent my chief a call.

  Are you busy, Juffin? Should I wait in the lobby?

  “What do you mean, Lady Marilyn?” Juffin flashed a welcoming smile. “Did you think I had a visitor, Max? And who said we’d have a problem with Sir Shurf’s appearance? My compliments to both of you, boys. You make a perfect couple.”

  “You look ravishing, Marilyn!” the unrecognizable Lonli-Lokli observed politely, rising to greet me, and (Oh, sinning Magicians!) considerately helping me to my seat.

  “I must ask your forgiveness, Max, but from here on out I’ll be addressing you with various terms of endearment, since it’s customary between husband and wife.”

  “There’s no need to ask my forgiveness. You can address me any way you like at any time, Shurf!”

  “Now my name is Sir Glamma Eralga, dear Marilyn. Of course, you must simply call me Glamma.”

  “Maybe we can just call each other by our regular names for the time being? It’s so disconcerting otherwise.”

  “No, Sir Shurf is absolutely right. The sooner you get used to your new names the better. Later you’ll have bigger worries,” Juffin said.

  What kinds of worries was he referring to, I would have liked to know?

  I stared at Lonli-Lokli curiously. It was the first time I had seen him without his death-dealing gloves, which I tended to think of as his real hands. I knew, of course, that they weren’t. But the heart, which is stronger than reason, was certain that the shining hands were the real thing.

  “Gosh, what’s wrong with your hands, Shurf? I mean, Glamma.”

  “Nothing. If you are referring to my gloves, I have them with me, in the trunk. You don’t suppose, do you, dear Marilyn, that all citizens have gloves like that?”

  “Of course I don’t, but I’ve never seen you without them, Shurf —er, dear!”

  “Maybe this Shurf you speak of is still wearing them; your dearest Glamma, as you can see, is not.”

  “Oh, of course. I’m sorry, sweetheart,” I said laughing. “And what’s with your fingernails?”

  “These are the first letters of the words of an ancient spell. Without them, the gloves would be lethal for me, too. I’m afraid I’ll have to wear these.” Lonli-Lokli showed me some elegant gloves made from the thinnest blue leather. “On the road they won’t attract attention, but when I dine, I anticipate they might arouse suspicion.”

  “It doesn’t matter in the least. Any person can have eccentricities. Let people think that you’re squeamish, that you’re just afraid of germs.”

  “Greetings, sugar pie,” said Melifaro, bursting into the office. “Well, have you considered the possibility of remaining a girl and accepting my proposal? My mama would be ecstatic,” he said, leaning on the armrest of my chair. “Our Loki-Lonki is much improved in appearance—but I’m still better-looking!”

  “Sir Melifaro, stop soliciting my wife,” said the transformed Lonli-Lokli. “And please be so good as to learn my name, at least by the time I return. You’ve known me for years.”

  “You got that?” I asked bitingly. “I’m no damsel in distress.”

  It was Juffin who got the biggest kick out of our absurd and spirited repartee, which was just as it should be. He’s the boss, after all.

  “Juffin, I hope you won’t object?” asked Sir Kofa Yox, the incomparable Master Eavesdropper cum Personal Cosmetologist, entering the office and clutching a sizable parcel to his chest. “You still have time to explain to these unfortunate boys what kind of hellish place they’re going to. You ha
ve the whole night ahead of you, and I have something extremely yummy to help pass the time.”

  “When did I ever object to parties, Kofa?” Juffin rejoined. “But why did you bring all this with you? We could have just called for a courier to deliver it.”

  “No way! I won’t entrust a matter like this to just anyone. Shutta Vax, one of the virtuoso cooks in the ancient style, has retired from the profession and cooks only for himself now. But when I asked him for seven Chakkatta Pies, he couldn’t refuse. We’re lucky—it appears that he’s the only one left who has the slightest idea how to make them.”

  “Do you mean that, Kofa?” Juffin looked truly alarmed.

  “It’s no joking matter. Ladies first, so get over here before I reconsider.”

  Melamori didn’t wait for him to repeat the invitation.

  “Good evening, Marilyn,” she greeted me, placing her hand affectionately on my shoulder. “It’s too bad you’re leaving tomorrow.”

  “But if we weren’t leaving, there wouldn’t be any Chakkatta Pies,” I said. “It’s the law of natural compensation.”

  “We’ve forgotten about poor Sir Lookfi,” Melamori said. “We should call him.”

  “I did, but he must first say goodbye to about a hundred buriwoks. Now bring on the pie, Kofa. I can’t wait.”

  The dull thud of an overturning chair announced the arrival of the Master Keeper of Knowledge.

  “Good evening. It’s so kind of you to remember to call me. Sir Kofa, you’re a good sort to arrange this celebration for all of us. And good evening, Sir Max. I haven’t seen you in a long time. What have you done to your hair? Is that the style these days?”

  Melifaro nearly fell off the arm of the chair, Melamori and I exchanged bewildered glances, and Sir Kofa was crackling with annoyance. Sinning Magicians! What happened to my disguise? Could people really still recognize me as Max?

  “Don’t worry, Max,” Juffin came to my rescue just in time. “And you, Kofa—you should be ashamed for being surprised. You know our Sir Lookfi sees things as they are, and not as they seem. How else could he tell all his buriwoks apart?”