The Stranger

  “That saying was written on the entrance of the Order of the Watery Crow. Didn’t you know?”

  “What sincere, warmhearted people,” I mused. “What I can never manage to get my mind around is the thought of their potency and might, with a name like that.”

  “Sometimes you really amaze me. What is it you don’t like about the name?”

  “Perhaps we should settle our accounts with Mr. Abora and take a spin around town,” I suggested, unwilling to take the time to explain why the name of the Watery Crow inspired amusement rather than awe. “We’re not going to live in a hotel that’s full of tourists from the Capital. If you want to get to know a place you have to find yourself real living quarters. And it will be more restful without other people around.”

  “A very wise decision,” Lonli-Lokli agreed. “I imagine the old fox Master Caravan Leader can give us some advice. I’m sure that these kinds of caprices among his tourists provide an extra source of income for him.”

  “Like heck he’s going to earn something else off of me!” I said with a grin. “Let’s go, Glamma. I’m in love with this town. Believe me, I’ll find a place to stay within an hour that’s better and cheaper than something that rogue would dig up for us. I’ll bet in his free time Mr. Vala lies to himself just for fun, and it makes him happy not to trust anyone.”

  “As you wish,” Lonli-Lokli said. “Look for a place to stay, then, Marilyn. I won’t be any help. I can, however, get the money out of the purse.”

  “Oh, right. You’re wearing gloves. Give him what we owe him, then turn down that alley. It looks like something’s gleaming there. I’m hoping it’s water. All I need are riverfront lodgings for my happiness to be complete.”

  Lonli-Lokli slowly got out of the amobiler, then went to pay our guide. When he came back, he looked me over from head to toe. He had eyes that inspired trust, like a good psychiatrist. I lowered my gaze demurely. Sir Shurf got behind the levers again, and we turned down the alley I was so smitten with. A moment later we were driving along the bank of a river. Small, delicate bridges, and an occasional stately, massive one, crisscrossed the dark crease of the narrow, deep river.

  “Oh,” I sighed. “How can you not love all this, you sourpuss? Look at the bridges! Just look! Gosh, what’s the name of this little river? You don’t happen to know by any chance, do you?”

  “I haven’t the faintest idea,” Lonli-Lokli said. “We’ll have to look at a map.”

  “Around here is where we have to stay,” I said dreamily. “And then we’ll go home, and my poor heart will be broken all over again.”

  “Again?” Lonli-Lokli asked, as though he hadn’t heard me correctly. “Excuse me, but Sir Max doesn’t create the impression of someone with a broken heart.”

  I nodded cheerfully.

  “It’s one of my inconvenient qualities. The worse things are going, the better I look. More than once I tried borrowing money from friends when I looked like I had just won the lottery. My absolutely true stories about living for a week on just bread and water went over like a load of baloney.”

  “And you really experienced such hard times?”

  Spending time with me clearly encouraged the development of Sir Shurf’s facial muscles. A look of surprise crept into his usually expressionless countenance.

  “Yes, can you imagine? Sometimes I didn’t have anything to eat at all. Thank goodness everything changes. Sometimes.”

  “That explains a lot,” Lonli-Lokli said thoughtfully. “That’s why it’s so easy to be around you, despite your madness.”

  “What? Well, you sure know how to flatter a guy.”

  “It’s not a compliment, but an observation. Maybe you put another construction on the term.”

  I sighed. Who said anything about semantics? It was already clear to me that Lonli-Lokli wasn’t trying to praise me this time.

  “I didn’t mean anything by it,” Sir Shurf said in a conciliatory manner. “A completely normal person just isn’t cut out for our line of work. When I was in the Order they used to say, ‘A good sorcerer doesn’t fear anyone but a madman.’ A bit of an exaggeration, naturally, but I think Sir Juffin Hully operates on this principle when he chooses his colleagues.”

  “Fine,” I said. “I am what I am, and whatever you call me won’t change anything. Let’s stop here, Glamma. I want to walk along the riverbank and mingle with the locals. Something in my heart tells me they’re dying to give shelter to two rich idlers from the Capital. Don’t worry, I remember. My name is Marilyn; and I’m planning on having a little chat with some sweet little old ladies.”

  “Do what you must,” said Lonli-Lokli. “After all we shouldn’t forget that Sir Max is my boss.”

  “Oh, come on.” I couldn’t restrain a nervous chuckle. “All right, I’ll be back soon.”

  I felt a thrill when my feet touched the amber sidewalk. Through the thin soles of my boots I felt the tender warmth of the yellow stone. My body felt light and happy, like I was about to take to the air. Kettari was wonderful, like my favorite dreams, and I now felt more like a sleepwalker than someone wide awake.

  I crossed the street with Lady Marilyn’s light step, then strolled along, peering at the tiny ancient houses in ecstasy and smiling all the while. “The Old Riverfront,” I said, reading the name on a plaque. Well, here’s something else I like!

  Oh, Juffin! I thought. If I could shout loudly enough for you to hear, I would be sure to say that a remarkable old fellow like you could only be born in such a magical place as this. I’m hardly likely to be able to say this when I see you. So I’m telling you now, just so you know, all right?

  I was so absorbed in thinking about what I would want to say to the boss that I almost knocked over a small, frail old woman. Luckily, the dexterity of her tiny frame was hardly in keeping with her years. At the last moment, she swerved aside sharply and grabbed on to the carved handle of a small garden gate.

  “What’s wrong with you, child? Where did you leave your pretty eyes? In your husband’s snuffbox?” she snapped at me angrily.

  “I’m awfully sorry,” Lady Marilyn said, embarrassed. “I just arrived a half hour ago in this town I’ve been hearing about since childhood. I never imagined it would be this beautiful! That must be why I’ve gone a bit out of my head—but it will soon pass, don’t you think?”

  “Oh? And where have you arrived from, dear?” the old woman asked, clearly moved.

  “Echo,” I replied with a slight feeling of guile. When you tell someone from a small provincial town that you are from the Capital, you are overcome with a sense of awkwardness, as though you have just snatched a silver spoon from your conversation partner’s sideboard.

  “But you don’t have an accent like someone from the Capital,” remarked the observant old lady. “And it’s not like ours, either. Where were you born, young miss?”

  Lady Marilyn and I began to lie with gusto.

  “I was born in County Vook. My parents fled there in the Time of Troubles, and they were quite happy. But I married a man from Echo just a few years ago. My great-grandmother is from Kettari, though, and so . . . In short, when I told my husband, ‘Glamma, I want a good Kettarian carpet,’ that wasn’t really what I was after. What I really wanted was to—”

  “. . . to visit the land of fairy tales you had heard so much about when you were a child,” the old woman said, finishing my thought. “I can see you really like it here.”

  “I certainly do! By the way, would you mind telling me what the custom is in this city? I’d like to find a place to live for a few dozen days. Not a hotel, but ordinary citizen’s lodgings. Is that possible?”

  “It is, indeed,” the old lady said with enthusiasm. “You can rent one floor, or a whole house. A whole house is quite expensive, though, even for a short stay.”

  “Oh, goodness!” I exclaimed. “I just wish I could meet someone who would offer me something suitable—and whether expensive or not, we could simply discuss the matter.” And I tappe
d the tip of my nose with the forefinger of my right hand.

  “Welcome, young lady!” the old woman said with a merry chuckle. “You certainly deserve a little discount. Just imagine, I’m on my way home from my friend Rarra’s house. We were just talking about how we might as well settle down in one house, either mine or hers, since we visit each other every day. The second house could be rented out, so that we could afford a few extras for ourselves. We’ve been talking over this plan for a dozen years or more, and we can’t come to a decision. A few dozen days is just what we need to begin with. It will give both of us enough time to figure out whether we’re capable of living under the same roof. My house is nearby. I’d only ask ten crowns for a dozen days.”

  “Ouch! Prices are steeper here than in the Capital!” I exclaimed.

  “All right, eight; but you and your husband will have to help me move some of my indispensable belongings to Rarra’s,” the old woman said resolutely. “There aren’t too many. Since you have an amobiler and a strong man at your disposal, I don’t think it will trouble you too much.”

  The “indispensable belongings” were so numerous that the move had to be carried out in six runs. But the time was well spent. Lady Xaraya, our landlady, managed to show us a place where we could get a good breakfast, and another place for an evening meal. She also warned us (about a hundred times) not to play cards with the locals—very thoughtful of her.

  After we paid in advance for two dozen days, Lady Xaraya wished us a good night and disappeared into her friend’s house.

  “It looks like the little old ladies are planning to get a bit tipsy tonight,” I said. “Let’s go home, Sir Shurf. Don’t be mad, but I’m sick of having to call you Glamma.”

  “As you wish, but I prefer to be as careful as we can. What difference does it make what you call someone? What’s really important is that you not slip up in front of other people.”

  “What ‘other people’? Our companions of the road are slumbering happily in some flea-bag hotel. I assume that they were fleeced out of more money than we were for that opportunity. Aren’t you thrilled at what my lucky streak has found this time?”

  “Yes, to be sure,” Lonli-Lokli admitted. “But I had been expecting something like this all along, so I’m not surprised. I hope my reaction is not cause for disappointment.”

  “Of course not! It inspires me with the wonderful feeling that everything in the World is in its proper place. Your placidity, Sir Shurf, is the true underpinning of my spiritual equilibrium. So just stay as you are, no matter what. Now let’s go home, get washed up, and change our clothes. Then we’ll have dinner and take a look around. Juffin, as far as I remember, gave us some astonishing instructions—enjoy life, and wait until a wonder finds us.”

  “Juffin gave those instructions not to us, but to you. He told me just to guard you from possible trouble.”

  “My heart is absolutely sure that I can’t experience anything remotely like trouble in Kettari! Not a thing!”

  “We’ll see,” Lonli-Lokli said. “Wait! Where are you off to? This is our home. Number 24 the Riverbank. Have you forgotten?”

  “Yes, I did forget! As one Sir Lookfi likes to say: ‘people are so absentminded.’”

  The bathroom was in the basement. Obviously, the inhabitants of all the provinces of the Unified Kingdom had come to a consensus on this matter.

  There were no luxuries or extras available to us—just a single bathroom, somewhat larger than we were used to in my homeland, but otherwise nearly identical.

  Sir Shurf frowned in displeasure.

  “I must say, after a few days on the road I was counting on three or four bathing pools.”

  I sighed sympathetically.

  “I’m sure that you have no less than twelve at home. Well, you’ll just have to get used to a life of deprivation and do without.”

  “I have eighteen of them at home,” said Lonli-Lokli with palpable longing in his voice. “And I don’t think that’s excessive.”

  “Are there any holey ones among them?”

  “Alas, I am not privileged with such,” my friend said. “You may bathe, Lady Marilyn. I’ll wait in the living room.”

  When I went back upstairs a half hour later, my friend raised his eyebrows quizzically.

  “You didn’t have to hurry. I would have waited. Or are you always so quick with bathing?”

  “Almost always,” I said. “I’m terribly uncouth, don’t you think?”

  “To each her own,” Lonli-Lokli said reassuringly. “But I’ll apologize in advance for not being able to clean myself up in record time like you can.”

  “Nonsense,” I said, brushing off his apology. “It so happens that I have a little matter to attend to.”

  When I was by myself, I reached for my pillow, thrust my hand under it, and waited. Only a few minutes passed before the first cigarette was within my grasp. It had only been smoked halfway to the end. Putting it out completely, I hid it in the small treasure box where I kept my loot. It was a sort of cigar-case with two sections: one for butts, and another for whole cigarettes, which came to me so rarely I was beginning to forget how they tasted. I was loathe to complain, though; they were better than nothing. The few weeks that I tried to get used to the local tobacco were a heroic and bitter memory for me.

  About three hours later Shurf finally deigned to come out of the bathroom. By this time, I had already managed to snatch four cigarette stubs, each one longer than the last. It was an uncommonly good harvest. My right hand had rested motionless under the pillow for twenty minutes already, and I didn’t intend to interrupt the procedure. Why should I? This fellow knew too much about me as it was. What kinds of secrets could I keep from him?

  “May I know what you are doing?” he inquired politely.

  “Well, I’m just making magic to the best of my abilities. This is how I come by my smoking sticks. It takes a long time, but it doesn’t cost a thing. A habit is very hard to break.”

  “Is that—are they from your homeland?” Lonli-Lokli asked.

  I nodded and tried to concentrate. Sir Shurf examined the butts with skeptical interest.

  “Go ahead and try one,” I offered. “It’s like your tobacco, only much better. You’ll like it so much that I’ll have to retire just to have the time to rustle up enough for both of us.”

  “You don’t mind? Thank you, you’re more than kind.” Lonli-Lokli chose a shorter butt and lit up.

  “Well, how do you like it?” I asked.

  My right hand was still empty, and I had promised myself that I wouldn’t light up until I had finished my tedious work.

  “The tobacco is rather strong, but it really is much better than what I’m used to,” Lonli-Lokli said approvingly. “Now I understand why you wore such a sad expression whenever you smoked your pipe.”

  “My expression was sad?” I asked, and burst out laughing. “Ah, here it is, the sweet little thing—the wait is over! Out you come!” I quickly extricated my hand from under the pillow and studied my quarry.

  Oh, great. That’s all I needed: in my hand was a self-rolled joint. The sight and the smell left no room for doubt.

  “The devil take it! All my efforts in vain!” I felt cheated.

  “What’s wrong?” Lonli-Lokli asked. “You don’t like that kind?”

  “Something like that. But it’s worse than that. Most of my countrymen smoke this to relax, but it just gives me a headache. I suppose I am abnormal. Do you want to relax, Sir Shurf? We can trade.”

  “Interesting,” Lonli-Lokli looked bemused. “I never refuse the opportunity for a new experience.”

  “You want to try?” I beamed. “Then my efforts weren’t all in vain after all. And who knows, it may really help you to relax. That’s something I wish for you with all my heart, Shurf, since you’re not crazy about Kettari.”

  I offered him the joint and happily smoked the rest of the cigarette myself. I desperately wanted another one immediately upon taking the last drag,
but I only had three left, and a whole evening ahead of me. I turned to Lonli-Lokli.

  “Well, are you relaxed, old friend? Let’s go eat dinner.”

  Then my jaw dropped so low I could almost hear the thud.

  I have no words to describe my astonishment. Sir Shurf Lonli-Lokli was grinning from ear to ear. It just didn’t seem possible that it was his own face. I shuddered.

  “That’s some funny smoking stick. A fine little thing,” Lonli-Lokli winked at me, and giggled foolishly. “If you only knew, Max, how funny it is to talk to you looking like red-headed girl.”

  The giggles grew into outright laughter.

  “Is everything all right, Shurf?” I inquired cautiously.

  “Why are you staring at me like that, mate? The big bore that I have been for quite a while now just went for a stroll. And you and I are going out to eat, only . . .” He burst out laughing again. “Only just try to close your mouth. Otherwise everything will fall out of it and . . . and there won’t be anything to swallow!”

  “Sweet,” I muttered. “And I thought I’d be able to get a rest from Melifaro for a while. All right, let’s go. Only don’t forget that my name is Marilyn, and yours—”

  “Do you really think that all the people of Kettari are going to eavesdrop on our conversation?” Lonli-Lokli asked. “Drop whatever they’re doing and crawl around under the windows of some tavern to hear the names we call each other?” He laughed again. “Sinning Magicians, Max! It’ll be a tight squeeze for all of them! How many people live in this town?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Well, however many there are, it’s still going to be a tight squeeze!” Lonli-Lokli brayed like a donkey. “Let’s go. I’ve never been so hungry in my life! Just don’t wiggle your behind, Max, or you’ll have trouble with the male population. Or don’t you object to trouble like that?”

  “I object to any kind of trouble at all,” I retorted angrily.

  “Let’s go, Marvel!”

  “Me, a Marvel? Take a look at yourself!” I said, but Lonli-Lokli was already groaning helplessly with laughter. Nevertheless, we managed to leave for our outing.