Kofa didn’t lift a finger to help us. He stood a few yards away, smoking and staring at the sky that was beginning to turn gray. In about half an hour, he put away his pipe and ambled toward the road.
“I hate standing in one place,” he said. “I’m going for a walk. Finish up here and catch up with me.”
“Are you sure it’s a good idea?” I said. “Taking walks alone in the woods doesn’t sound too wise to me.”
“I’m a big boy now,” said Kofa and laughed. His tone suddenly became very tender and warm. “You’re so funny, Max. Don’t worry, though. No wolves will attack me.”
I watched as his figure, unusually tall and slender, disappeared behind the trees. Sir Kofa had been a “big boy” for a very long time, true, but if I had had my say, I wouldn’t have let him go alone.
“Kofa knows this place well,” said Melifaro. “I don’t think there’s a single swamp in Landaland that he hasn’t explored. Kofa used to specialize in busting local bandits. He hunted them at least twice a year, so you don’t need to worry about him. Aw, look at you. You look so much like my mommy now that I’m tempted to ask you for cookies.”
“Go ahead and try,” I said, snarling. “You’ll be sorry you did.”
“Do you need help?” A friendly voice called out from behind my back.
“I sure do,” I said. “It would be kind of you to hold this branch right here while I’m trying to tie it up—Oh!” Only then did I realize that a stranger had snuck up on us. Common sense suggested that I should have been startled enough to assume a defensive stance.
Meanwhile, the short, bearded man in ridiculous fur overalls took hold of the branch I was pointing at. I grabbed the chance and tied it to the wheel. By the time I had finished, I decided against being scared or startled. First, the stranger seemed like a good-natured fellow; second, Melifaro and I were also “big boys.” No comparison to Kofa, of course, but still. Melifaro gave our “apprentice” a puzzled look but didn’t say anything.
“Thank you kindly, sir,” I said. “If it’s not too much trouble, would you also hold this branch?”
“Sure,” said the man. “I’m good at holding branches. What are you doing here, by the way?”
“Fixing up the amobiler,” I said. However honest the reply may have been, it didn’t sound very convincing in view of our idiotic activity. Nevertheless, the stranger nodded and grabbed the branch. All in all, he turned out to be a great help: silent, thoughtful, and friendly.
In about an hour we finished the task, and sat down on the damp grass.
“Do you live around here?” I asked the man.
“Yes. It’s a nice place.”
“That’s a matter of opinion,” said Melifaro, laughing.
“You helped us a great deal,” I said. “Can we do something for you in return? We don’t want to take advantage of your time and effort.”
“Do you have money?” Our helper sounded naive and excited at the same time.
“As a matter of fact, we do.” I couldn’t contain a smile. This bearded fellow seemed surprised that we had money, as though Melifaro and I looked like ordinary beggars.
“Could you give me one, then?” said the man.
Now Melifaro and I both had to laugh.
“I’m sorry, the way you said it was funny,” I said, handing him a crown.
“Thank you,” said the man. “Oooh, this is a big one! I could stay in the Middle of the Woods for a whole week with it.”
“Stay where?” I said.
“In the Middle of the Woods. It’s a big house down the road. They have good food there. And they also give you bitter colored water, but I don’t like that. You can sleep in a bed there, too.”
“Where do you sleep?” I said.
“Why, in a hole, of course,” said our new friend. “You?”
“Here and there,” said Melifaro, getting up and walking to the amobiler. “Mostly there. Now try not to distract me, and look away please. It’s a crucial moment.”
The man and I did an about-face.
“So you live in a hole?” I said in a whisper. I was quite surprised. We hadn’t ventured that far from the Capital of the Unified Kingdom, yet we had already met someone who lived in a hole in the ground. He could have at least built a shack from the trees, I thought.
“Yes, in a hole. It’s nice in there,” said the man. “But there was one time that I found money—not as big as the one you gave me, though. And I went to the Middle of the Woods and then slept in a bed for two days straight. That was great!”
“Why not get your own bed?” I said. “I can give you some more money, and you can buy whatever you need, including a bed.”
“You have other money? Oh, would you give them to me? I know what I’ll do with them. I’ll bury them until winter. And in the winter I’ll go to the Middle of the Woods. I’d love to have my own bed, but it wouldn’t fit in the hole.”
“Oh, that’s too bad,” I said, giving him three more crowns. Excited, he rubbed the coins against his cheek and clenched them in his fist.
“Okay, you can turn around now,” said Melifaro. “I think I did a pretty good job, if I do say so myself.”
I turned around and froze in disbelief. Not only was Melifaro a powerful magician, he also turned out to be an excellent industrial designer. I couldn’t have imagined that an amobiler could look so sleek with tracks instead of wheels. In fact, it looked even better with tracks.
“Now we only need to make sure that this monstrous fruit of our insanity can move,” said Melifaro. “Hop in, Max, and let’s go. It’s almost dark already.”
I was somewhat nervous, but to my relief the amobiler jerked into action and started moving. I turned around to wave goodbye to the friendly local, but he was already gone.
“Where did he go?” I said.
“See those two red lights in the bushes? That’s your new friend following you with a grateful stare.”
I shrugged and looked at Melifaro with disdain. He could have come up with a better one.
“Oh, Max, you don’t understand,” he said, laughing. “He’s a shapeshifter.”
“Who’s a shapeshifter?” Melifaro was right, I didn’t understand.
“That guy there. We got lucky he was a peaceful one who was willing to help and entertain us for a bit. How much money did you give him?”
“Four crowns. Think I shouldn’t have done that?”
“Probably not. What would a shapeshifter do with money? He’ll lose it. Those creatures have a short memory. Once they transform themselves into something else, they forget everything about their previous form.”
“What did this one transform into?” I said.
“No idea. You never know with shapeshifters. Why the puzzled look? Didn’t you know there were shapeshifters in the World?”
“I didn’t know. Should I feel ashamed now?”
“You should. It’s common knowledge.”
“Enlighten me, then. I’ll take lessons in common knowledge.”
“Lessons cost money,” Melifaro bantered, “and my lessons cost a lot.”
“I’m on a Royal Stipend for Outstanding Achievements,” I said. “You can mention you gave me private lessons in your report to Sir Dondi Melixis about the tragic fate of your yellow glad rags. His Majesty Gurig VIII shall see to it that thou shalt not be stinted.”
“Will you drop this shapeshifter business already?” said Melifaro. “Yes, there are these animals in our woods that can turn into humans when they get bored. Big deal.”
“Hold that thought. They’re animals?”
“Of course. What else would they be?”
“I thought shapeshifters were people who occasionally turned into animals.”
“Of all the nonsense! Only powerful magicians can turn into animals. There used to be a great many of them in the old days, but now . . . although I don’t know. Maybe there are still quite a few left. From what I’ve heard, it’s not a very difficult trick.”
“R
eally?” I said. “Hmm. Maybe I should learn it?”
“But why?”
“I don’t know. Just so I can, I guess. Say, don’t you think we should have caught up with Kofa already? Despite all it has suffered, the amobiler is still quite agile.”
“I guess you’re right. Hey, your new shapeshifting buddy said something about a house where they give you food, remember? There must be a tavern somewhere around here. Or even an inn, since they let him sleep in a bed there once.”
“Good point,” I said. “Then I’m not worried. If there is a tavern nearby, I’ll bet you anything that Kofa is already sitting at a table there. Those places are like magnets for Kofa.”
Lo and behold, two minutes later we did indeed come upon a small, three-story house with a pointy roof. On the sign that hung over the door, one could barely discern the faded letters that read The Middle of the Woods. The house stood a little ways off the side of the road and was surrounded by a few other smaller buildings. The owners, however, had made a neat pathway to it and hung bright lanterns over the door, so it was impossible to miss it.
“Oh, this is excellent!” I said. “And you said yesterday that Chinfaro was our last chance to get a good night’s sleep.”
“People are predisposed to make mistakes,” said Melifaro. “I am a typical human being, unlike some monsters that shall go nameless. Besides, I’m pretty sure that the guests of this hospitable place have to go behind a tree to answer nature’s call.”
“Let’s find out.” I came up to the porch and opened the heavy door of the house.
Inside it was warm and cozy: clumsy wooden furniture, numerous pots with plants, and the same lanterns that were hanging outside.
Kofa was already there, of course. He was sitting on a bulky stool, sipping something out of an enormous clay mug—seemingly without much appreciation for the contents. Granted, his new face was lousy at expressing any positive emotions anyway.
“What took you so long?” he said. “I was beginning to get worried. The woods are crawling with shapeshifters.”
“That was precisely what took us so long—shapeshifters,” said Melifaro. “Max gave them money for a keepsake, then they sniffed each other, and so on. He finally found his soul mate.”
“Yeah, very funny,” I said. “If it hadn’t been for the shapeshifter’s help, we would still be fixing that miracle of contemporary engineering now.”
“A shapeshifter helped you fix the amobiler?” said Kofa. “Good. Physical labor has a positive effect on primitive creatures. Can that cart move across swamps now?”
“And how!” I said.
“Very good. I’ll be needing it,” said Kofa. He got up off the stool.
“Where are you going now?” I said.
“You are sorely mistaken if you think I am going to report my intentions to you,” he said. “I just need to go someplace. It should take about two days, I believe. That’s all you need to know. Then I’ll return and we’ll go cut Glenke’s head off. You’ll wait for me here. It’s not a palace, but you’ll survive. Good night, boys.”
As soon as Sir Kofa left, I sent a call to Juffin. I don’t like stoolies any more than the next person, but desperate situations called for desperate measures.
Kofa just said he had to leave for two days. He told us to wait for him in this tavern in the middle of nowhere and then just up and left. Is this normal, or should we run after him?
It’s absolutely abnormal, but let him be. Once Kofa gets something into his head, there’s very little chance you can do anything about it.
I don’t doubt that for a second, but what do we do now?
Nothing. Just wait, as he said. Enjoy a spontaneous vacation, clean air, and water from forest streams. From my experience, Kofa makes a blunder once every hundred years or so. It’s been only sixty since he made his last one, so you’re good.
What was the blunder he made sixty years ago?
That secret is not meant for your ears. You are not even of age according to our laws. You’re a minor.
Sure, when I need to go to the Dark Side, I’m an adult, but when I want an update on the gossip, suddenly I’m a minor.
Brilliant deduction. It’s a pleasure to do business with you, Sir Max, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to say goodbye now. I’m ambushing someone. We have a little situation here, another blast from the past, as it were. This fellow believed that it would be oh so much fun if he bit my head off. I took issue with him on that point, we argued, and now I’m hunting him down.
Whoa, just whoa! He’s no danger to you, though, right? Right?
Right, right. Unless you keep distracting me with your chatter. Good night, and buy something sweet for Melifaro.
I had to laugh, remembering the hell Melifaro had been through in the Kumonian Honey. I turned to him and said, “Juffin thinks Kofa is so great that he can do whatever he wants. So you and I are going to call these woods home until he comes back. Not to worry, though, we won’t get bored. A shapeshifting friend of mine lives somewhere nearby, and I’m sure he has a few furry female friends. We can visit them for a cup of kamra. I wonder if shapeshifters can make kamra?”
“I doubt it,” Melifaro grumbled. “I don’t even think people make it in these backwoods. Oh well, I’d hoped to get a good night’s sleep, and now it looks like my prayers have been answered. I remember reading somewhere that there’s nothing worse than when your most cherished dream comes true. I used to think it was nonsense, but now I see how wrong I might have been.”
“Do you really think it’s that bad?” I said, sitting down on a wobbly stool.
“Nah,” said Melifaro and laughed. “I just wanted to practice grumbling. Even you can do it—why can’t I try?”
“Speaking of grumbling, thanks for reminding me. Where are the proprietors of this establishment, I wonder?” I said.
“Over there,” said Melifaro, pointing to a room next door lit up by the light from a short, fat candle. I followed his finger and saw two pairs of curious eyes staring at me.
“Would you be so kind as to come a little closer, gentlemen?” I said. “First, we want food and drinks. Second, we need a room. Do you have a room?”
“Oh, we have two rooms,” said a jolly, portly red-haired man dressed in a clean but very old looxi. I broke my head trying to deduce what color it had been at the beginning of its career, but to no avail. “What do you want to eat?” he said. “I can cook five dishes.”
“Five dishes you say? Oh, my,” said Melifaro. “Well, bring all five of them, then. Maybe one of them will be edible.”
“Bemboni! Warm up all the food! We’ve got hungry clients,” the red-haired man commanded. Then he stared at us again with the most charming naivete in his eyes and said, “Will you give me money?”
“Of course we will,” I said, smiling. “Do you think we’re going to eat up all the food you have and leave without paying?”
“Well, I couldn’t just send hungry people back into the woods again. Besides, you couldn’t eat up all the food we have. We’ve got a lot of food stocked.”
“And we have a big appetite and loads of time to kill, so we’re going to try anyway.” I said.
I took a crown out of my pocket and gave it to the plump man. He stared at it with the same excitement in his eyes as my shapeshifter friend earlier.
“It’s a big one,” he said. “Thank you! Do you want me to show you your rooms while Bemboni’s warming up your food?”
“Sure, go ahead,” Melifaro said and winked at me. “The best one is mine!”
“What if they’re the same?” I said.
“Then I don’t know. No, one must be at least a little better than the other one. There are no two identical rooms in the World. It’s a law of nature. And speaking of nature”—he turned to the red-haired innkeeper—“does your establishment have facilities?”
“Of course,” the innkeeper said proudly. “We have an outhouse. My grandfather built it. It’s close by. I’ll show you the way.?
??
“He has to ‘show us the way,’ Max. Did you hear that?” said Melifaro in a cheerless voice. “I’ll never forgive Kofa for this.”
We set off on our little field trip. The outhouse was a small building in the backyard. Inside, it was warm and even comfortable, although there were no bathing pools to speak of. Instead, it had an enormous, clean, albeit old, washtub. If we had a hippo, we could easily have tried washing it in the tub.
Melifaro was inspecting the “facilities” with the expression of a person being drowned in a swamp. I just shrugged. I had lived in far worse conditions once upon a time and had endured them for far longer than two days, yet I had survived.
Then Melifaro and I went back to see our rooms. First, we went up to the second floor, where we found a spacious room with two windows. This was a naive version of a deluxe-style room. In addition to a large old bed on short legs, it had an enormous mirror in a luxurious frame that occupied almost the whole wall. The floor was covered in an old, but still neat, green carpet. Another distinctive feature was the colossal armoire.
“Okay, I’m sleeping here,” said Melifaro in a tone that brooked no argument.
“But of course, my dear,” I said. “That armoire is just the right size for your clothes. To think of how many happy hours you will spend in front of that mirror! Who am I to deprive you of such simple, innocent joy?”
“As if your joy is so much more complex. Or sinful,” he said.
Next we went to the third floor. It must be written in my fate that I always have to end up in the crummiest places. My room was so tiny that I wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that it had once been used as a pigeon loft. The roof was sloping on both sides, and kitchen pots with plants stood on the windowsills. There was no furniture, only a rolled-up bed—completely in line with my taste. In a way, I was glad that Melifaro took the “presidential suite” on the second floor.