ALSO BY MAX FREI
The Stranger:
The Labyrinths of Echo—Book One
The Stranger’s Woes:
The Labyrinths of Echo—Book Two
The Stranger’s Magic:
The Labyrinths of Echo—Book Three
Copyright
This edition first published in hardcover in the United States in 2013 by
The Overlook Press, Peter Mayer Publishers, Inc.
141 Wooster Street
New York, NY 10012
www.overlookpress.com
For bulk and special sales, please contact
[email protected], or write us at the above address.
First published in Russia by Amphora in 2003
Copyright © 2003 by Max Frei
English translation copyright © 2013 by Polly Gannon and Ast A. Moore
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review written for inclusion in a magazine, newspaper, or broadcast.
ISBN 978-1-4683-0762-7
Contents
Also By Max Frei
Copyright
Previously in the The Labyrinths Of Echo . . .
One
The Dark Vassals Of Glenke Taval
Two
Doroth, Master Of the Manooks
Previously in the THE LABYRINTHS OF ECHO . . .
MAX FREI WAS ONCE A LOSER. HE’S A BIG SLEEPER (DURING THE DAY, that is; at night he can’t sleep a wink). A hardened smoker, an uncomplicated glutton, and a loafer, one day he gets lucky. He discovers a parallel world where magic is commonplace, and where he fits right in. This is the city of Echo of the Unified Kingdom, a land where a social outcast like Max can be remade as “the unequaled Sir Max.”
In this upside-down universe, Sir Max’s deadpan humor and newfound talent for magic soon earn him a place in the secret police—night shift only, of course. As Nocturnal Representative of the Most Venerable Head of the Minor Secret Investigative Force of the City of Echo, Max’s job is to investigate cases of illegal magic and battle trespassing monsters from other worlds. With his occupation comes an unusual band of colleagues—the omniscient Sir Juffin Hully, the buoyant Sir Melifaro, the death-dealing Sir Shurf Lonli-Lokli, bon vivant and master of disguise Sir Kofa Yox, the angelic Tekki, and the captivating sleuth Lady Melamori Blimm.
Plunging back into the threatening and absurd realm portrayed in the first three books of the Labyrinths of Echo series—The Stranger, The Stranger’s Woes, and The Stranger’s Magic—The Stranger’s Shadow follows the new adventures and misadventures of Sir Max and his friends in this enchanted and enchanting world.
ONE
THE DARK VASSALS OF GLENKE TAVAL
“YOU KNOW WHAT, NIGHTMARE,” SAID MELIFARO, “YOU OWE ME A great deal of money. I’ve been keeping a tab. I take your wives—all three of them—out to the most exquisite taverns in Echo every day, sometimes several times a day. Now I’d be quite happy with just one, but she brings her sisters along with her on a regular basis. The girls, you see, think that the most horrifying thing that could happen to them is to be left alone with me in a well-lit, crowded room. I don’t know where they got their ideas about me. Long story short—pay up.”
“Two words, buddy: dream on.” I thought I had gotten used to the antics of my diurnal half, but never in my wildest dreams had I expected such brazen impudence.
“Oh, so that’s how you treat your old buddy now, your majesty?” said Melifaro. “Well, I’m offended.”
“You’re offended? Did I hear that right?” I said. “Not only are you trying to make me a cuckold—completely unsuccessfully so far, by the way—you also demand that I finance this dubious enterprise out of my own pocket. You’d better thank me for not having a heart attack and dying on you after that statement.”
“Thank you. A dead body in the office would be most inappropriate now. It’s a lot of fuss and bother, and I’m going out on a date.”
“With whom?” I said. “Don’t you dare cheat on my wives. It’s a matter of honor in my royal family.”
“With whom?” said Melifaro. “You have three guesses.”
“You got that right. Three guesses,” I said. “By the way, I still don’t know which one of them you’ve set your heart on.”
“What difference would it make? You can’t tell them apart.”
“I can now,” I said. “Wait, let me guess. Xeilax has the same revolting taste as you. I saw her a few days ago wearing a bright-crimson looxi—you’d die with envy. But all in all, she’s a very serious lady. So I don’t think it’s her. How am I doing?”
“So far so good,” said Melifaro. “Although someone who prefers the shades of fecal matter in his clothing should curl up and crawl into some dark corner instead of criticizing other people’s attire. Hold on, where did you see her?”
“What do you mean? At home, of course. Besides three beautiful queens, my dog lives there,” I said.
“Oh, okay then,” said Melifaro, sighing with relief.
“Why are you so worried, if you’re trying to seduce another one anyway?”
“Because they always stick together everywhere they go, that’s why. Plus, I still haven’t gotten used to the fact that you can tell them apart.”
“Whatever. Moving right along. Kenlex seems the most mysterious of the three. A goody-goody with a strong gaze like Juffin’s. Nah, I don’t think she’s got what you’re looking for in a girl. So that leaves us with Xelvi. She’s the giggly one. I’m willing to bet she’s the one you’re working on. Right?”
“Wrong,” said Melifaro. “You’re a lousy clairvoyant.”
“Really?”
“Really. Although you were spot-on about Kenlex having a strong gaze.” Melifaro jumped off the desk he had been sitting on, dangling his legs. “All right, I’m sick and tired of you, so I’m leaving. I’m going to try and seduce one of your wives. Maybe it’ll finally work. You know what? I think you put some nasty spell on them, being the trickster that you are. Ordinary girls would have already been all over me by now.”
“You’re forgetting that they have a completely different notion of male beauty in the Barren Lands,” I said. “You and I just don’t cut it. I’m telling you, the girls are suffering from unrequited love for General Boboota Box. All three of them.”
“Very funny,” said Melifaro. He stood in front of the mirror and straightened the folds of his new looxi. The looxi was bright green, like a lettuce patch in early spring. He was smiling.
Finally the lover boy left his office. I dashed out, too. I had just gotten an excellent idea, and its realization required Sir Kofa Yox.
The Master Eavesdropper had just come out of Juffin’s office. Perfect timing.
“I think you mistook me for someone else,” he said. “You’re looking at me as if I’m the girl of your dreams.”
“You’re spot-on about my dreams,” I said. “I desperately need your Ukumbian cloak. Just for a couple of hours.”
“Sure,” said Kofa. “I never thought you were going to take bread out of my mouth instead of dozing in your office. As far as I know, even Juffin hasn’t yet come up with any work for you for today. What’s gotten into you, Max? Whatever’s going to happen to your reputation as the star loafer of the Secret Investigative Force?”
“I’m not the star loafer,” I said. “And I’m not taking bread out of anyone’s mouth. I’m just going to have some fun.”
“Fun? What kind of fun? Maybe I’ll want some of it
, too.”
“You? I doubt it. Sir Melifaro is going out on a date with my triplets, and it dawned on me that I simply can’t skip the show. If they know I’m there, I’ll derive approximately a thousand times less pleasure from it. So I’ll take your cloak and—long live the Dark Magic of the Isles of the Ukumbian Sea! That is, if you don’t mind.”
“I wholeheartedly support your endeavor,” said Kofa, nodding. “To violate your job description for the sole purpose of having fun is one of the pillars upon which our organization stands. I’m glad you’ve finally understood it.”
“Thanks,” I said, carefully taking the piece of old fabric that could turn me into the most invisible person in the World.
“Not at all,” said Kofa. “This isn’t my personal toy; it’s the property of the Ministry of Perfect Public Order. Tell me if you have too much fun.”
“That I will.”
Then I poked my head in Juffin’s office. Maybe the boss is simply incapable of living a day without admiring my countenance, I thought, and I’m off gallivanting about who knows where.
“I am,” said Juffin Hully without lifting his head from stacks of self-inscribing tablets piled up on his desk.
“You are what?” I said, taken aback.
“Capable. Of anything. Including living a day without admiring your countenance.”
“A hole in the heavens above you! Not only are you aware of the mess that constitutes my head, you can also keep track of my thoughts. I’m so embarrassed. They must be full of bad grammar.”
“Not always,” said Juffin, yawning. “I mean I don’t always read your mind. Today, though, is a day you need to be taken by surprise. As far as I know, it’s been a few dozen days. This poses a huge risk. You might relax and think of yourself as an ordinary guy with an ordinary, successful life and career. Go ahead and have fun, Max. It’s your right. It looks like I’m going to be stuck here until midnight at least. The year has just begun, and the office is already full of paperwork.”
“Anything interesting?” I said.
“I wish. Reports by the Venerable Heads of the Secret Investigative Forces from our blessed provinces. What interest could they possibly have for anyone? And stop shuffling your feet in the doorway. Run away before I change my mind and dump this work onto your fragile shoulders.”
“I can take a hint,” I said. “I’m good as gone.” I ran out of the office. I had to hurry if I didn’t want to search Echo high and low for my fantastic four.
I parked the amobiler in a small, cozy courtyard a few blocks away from the Furry House. The magic of the Ukumbian cloak did not extend to the vehicle it was worn in. And when you were about to spy on one of the secret investigators, you had to take extra precautions. I suspected that even in the fog of passion, Melifaro’s head was still capable of some sober deduction work.
I walked the rest of the way to my royal residence. I lost a lot of time, but I was also hoping that the sisters enjoyed dressing up for a night on the town and dawdled while they were at it. There was only one problem that awaited me in the Furry House: Droopy, the huge, shaggy sheepdog from the Barren Lands. I was worried that he would sniff me out. Usually the four-legged genius started to squeal as soon as I even thought of visiting him, so I decided to wait outside.
Melifaro’s amobiler, parked nearby, testified to the fact that I had gotten there in time. I even had to wait for almost a quarter of an hour. Finally they came out: Sir Melifaro and three unwitting knockoffs of Liza Minnelli. The splendid attire of the sisters made me feel sorry for the rapidly diminishing funds of His Majesty Gurig VIII, who was sponsoring the happy inhabitants of my palace.
When they were getting into the amobiler, I felt like a complete idiot. How was I supposed to spy on them? Long-distance running had never been my forte. Fortunately, the triplets all got into the back seat. The front seat next to Melifaro was empty, so I stole in and bundled my behind into it. In theory, I knew that I was invisible, but it was still shocking to see that the lover boy was completely oblivious to my presence, even though I was sitting an arm’s length away from him.
“Where to, your majesties?” said Melifaro. His tone struck a delicate balance between sincere courtesy and killing irony. Lucky for him, the sisters hadn’t had much opportunity to study their suitor in action, so they erred in their judgment on the side of courtesy.
“To the Kumonian Honey!” they said in unison.
I was surprised at my own ignorance. I had lived in Echo for much longer than the sisters had and still had no clue of the existence of that establishment.
“Haven’t you gotten tired of Kumonian sweets?” said Melifaro as the amobiler took off.
“Sometimes you say such odd things,” said one of the sisters. I didn’t know which one: I hadn’t learned to tell their voices apart yet. “One can never get tired of sweet things.”
“You don’t know how kind fate has been to you, Sir Melifaro,” said another sister. “You have been able to partake of sweets every day since childhood. When we lived at home, the best we could get was the berry of the steppes—it gets quite sweet when it’s ripe—and that was it. Of course, when our people traveled abroad, they brought us food from distant lands and shared it among all of us. We all got a little bit, but it happened so seldom. If memory serves, they brought us sweets five times, right, Xeilax?”
“Six times,” said Xeilax, sighing. “We were very little the first time it happened. I remember my first honey cracker, even though you two don’t.”
“Poor things,” said Melifaro. “Very well, then. The Kumonian Honey it will be.”
The trip to the New City seemed like a journey around the world to me. When it came to driving the amobiler, this strapping young lad was no different from the rest of the inhabitants of the Unified Kingdom. His top speed was barely twenty-five miles an hour.
To make things worse, the four chattered on about silly things all the way to the tavern. I had to fight the desire to blow my cover and grab the lever myself. The only thing stopping me was the thought that it would scare the living daylights out of the girls. They might start to suspect that I always followed them around, invisible.
At last, the amobiler pulled over to a squat building on the bank of the Xuron and stopped. The signboard, decorated with an intricate design, read The Kumonian Honey. I remembered that Shurf Lonli-Lokli lived just a few blocks from here. I had never had time to visit him at his place, even though I had given him a lift home many times. Amazing how I never have time for anything but a harebrained adventure like this one.
I was so comfortable being invisible that I didn’t bother to tiptoe or to breathe softly. Even when I accidentally slammed the heavy, carved door of the tavern, no one turned around and looked at me. The tables at the Kumonian Honey were only meant for couples, so the group of four had to squeeze around one of them. I sat at a table next to theirs.
The proprietor, a short, dapper old man whose elegant clothes reminded me of the expensive tracksuits of my distant homeland, went up to Melifaro. The old man’s fiery red beard reached almost to the ground. His mustache was just a thin, barely noticeable line below his nose.
Judging by the expression on the face of the Kumonian, he was about to die from excess happiness. His courtesy far exceeded the average level of courtesy of other tavern owners in Echo, which, I must say, was nothing to complain about.
It seemed, though, that the mellifluous old man was going to pass me by. The magic cloak made everyone avert their gaze from me, including tavern keepers from Kumon. Without giving it a moment’s thought, I followed him to the kitchen. If the food wouldn’t come to Max, then Max must go to the food.
Instead of a single male chef, there were five charming women of various ages and constitutions at work in the kitchen.
“It’s that venerable gentleman with his identical women again,” the tavern keeper told them in a whisper. “Mark my words, those barbarians are beginning to understand that a man must have a harem. Get down to
work and make sure that everything is prepared properly this time. That customer regularly refuses our food—the sign of a bigwig.”
I smirked, grabbed the tastiest-looking honey cake, took a pitcher of kamra from the burner, and returned to the main hall.
Melifaro, meanwhile, had already moved closer to his chosen one. On his face was an expression of true, undiluted happiness. Then I looked at Kenlex. She looked pensive and slightly guilty. It seemed that the company of her suitor gave her the sort of pleasure she was not yet prepared to experience.
Xeilax, whom I had begun to consider the “eldest” of the three, was looking askance at her sister. Xelvi’s glance, on the other hand, was full of undisguised irony. I could easily imagine her making faces and squeaking: “Here comes the bride, fair, fat, and wide. Slipped on a banana peel and went for a ride.” Strange that Melifaro hadn’t chosen her. In my book, the two were made for each other. Then again, the human heart is a mystery that I, for one, will never solve.
Truth be told, so far the spying hadn’t paid off. Instead of having fun, I was moved. I told myself for the hundredth time that I would soon begin the alchemical process of turning barely known acquaintances into good friends. In other words, I would try to get to know my so-called wives a little better. I sometimes find my indifference to the people at the periphery of my life repulsive. And a lack of time is no excuse.
Meanwhile, the keeper of the Kumonian Honey came out of the kitchen carrying a huge tray. Melifaro’s face clouded over.
“I said I didn’t want anything,” he moaned. “The order was solely for the ladies.”
“This is on the house,” said the bearded native of the Kumon Caliphate with servility. “Please deign to accept my humble offering.”
“But I’m not hungry!” Melifaro’s voice resembled that of a man on death row who had one last chance to plead with a cruel judge.