The Stranger's Shadow

  “Maybe the King is also one of the Origins?” I said and smiled a malicious smile. “My, my, my, Juffin, how could you have missed that?”

  “No, I don’t think so,” said Juffin, smiling. “But you’re going to have to talk to the ambassadors. Please find some time for them tomorrow after you get up. They desperately need you to lend them your royal ear. The fellows from the Chancellory of Concerns of Worldly Affairs have already prepared a detailed set of instructions for them. You just need to hand it to the messenger with due grandeur.”

  “They have already prepared it? What about our sovereignty? Your words hurt my national pride!”

  Suddenly I felt tired of my jokes. I was tired of everything. It was time for me to hit the sack.

  With great difficulty, I got up from the armchair that had enveloped me in its comfy softness. I didn’t leave, though. I shuffled my feet, trying to come up with something to say, something epic and earth-shattering instead of the usual “good night.” The boss was watching me with the cold-blooded curiosity of an entomologist.

  “Thank you,” I said. “Your bait—the green door in the white wall—was wonderful.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” said Juffin. “Believe me, I derived a great deal of pleasure out of the whole thing myself. You know, before I met you, I had no idea there were people who could be snared by such a trivial thing as a book. You were so serious about ink on paper. That story turned my notion about the power of the written word upside down. Good night, Max. Oh, and don’t get it into your head that royal duties somehow relieve you of your primary responsibilities. I expect to see you at Headquarters tomorrow before dusk.”

  “Sir, a person who has known you for longer than half an hour would never dare think any such thing,” I said, suppressing a yawn.

  No more than thirty minutes later, I was already struggling with Tekki for the right to cover myself with a few square inches of the blanket. While I was gone, she’d learned to wrap herself in it completely, without so much as a scrap hanging free. When she finally sensed someone else in her bed, I had to prove that someone was me. Fortunately, I was very persuasive.

  That night I didn’t get enough sleep, nor did I have time to take a breather the next day. At noon a courier from the Ministry of Perfect Public Order woke me up. Juffin had sent the instructions for my subjects.

  I should have paid more attention in my history classes, I thought, sitting in the bathing pool with warm, fragrant water, desperately trying to pull myself together. But who knew it would ever come in handy? I could have drawn up a plan based on some epic battle from ancient history. Maybe the experiences of Alexander the Great would have come in handy.

  My very first attempt at being a politico was interrupted by Tekki, who came into the bathroom. All the better, I thought. Who knows what dangerous nonsense I would have come up with if I was left to my own devices a little longer?

  “Max, have you turned into a fish already?” she said. “Not that I would mind if you did, don’t get me wrong. I love fish, but maybe that can wait? Melamori is here to see you. She says she must talk to you right away.”

  “Well, meeting her in the bathroom is out of the question,” I said, laughing.

  “Do you think that would shock her?” said Tekki, grinning.

  “Not her—me. Tell her to wait just a bit longer. I’ll come up in a second.”

  “Do you know what it’s going to be about?” said Tekki.

  “I can guess. I know the ship from Arvarox is here already.”

  Tekki smiled a sad smile and left. I got out of the bathing pool and began to dress.

  Melamori was waiting for me in the den. Tekki brought in a tray with some delicious light morning snacks and, as tactful as she was, disappeared after telling us the old legend of some mysterious clients that were allegedly waiting for her.

  “It’s great you’re back so soon,” said Melamori. “They say some Magicians who left for the Dark Side thought they spent only an hour there, but in fact returned many, many years later. Don’t worry, I’m not going to start whining. I’m still frightened, and I still think I’m making the biggest mistake of my life, but I’m going to do it anyway. That’s final. I just wanted to ask you, will you come say goodbye to me?”

  “When are you leaving?”

  “Tonight. Everybody thinks Aloxto’s leaving in three days’ time. He says it himself, and everybody believes the word of an Arvaroxian without giving it a moment’s thought. But I explained to Aloxto that words were just words, and that a person could tell an untruth once in his life. My overprotective daddy and uncle Kima are busy figuring out how to keep an eye on him when he leaves, and where to hide me that day so I don’t go with him. I’m up to my ears in family intrigues, not to mention other kinds.”

  “Does Juffin know?” I said.

  “I think he knows everything there is to know—even things that are none of his business,” said Melamori. “In any case, if it weren’t for him, I probably wouldn’t have had the guts to leave.”

  “The boss talked you into leaving?” I said, surprised.

  “Talked me into it? What nonsense, Max! How on earth would he do that?”

  “What did he say then?”

  “Oh, nothing much. I asked him why he had never taught me anything special. I mean all those wonderful things that happen to the rest of the gang: the Dark Side, the Corridor between Worlds, and Magicians know what else. I’ve been working at the Secret Investigative Force for what seems like an eternity, and I still can’t do any of that. You know what he said? He said that the journey to the Dark Side begins with another journey. That one morning a person wakes up, leaves his home, and walks out into the unknown. Then he laughed and gave me some menial task. And when I was done, he praised me for an unnaturally long time. Do you see what I mean? Of course, I could pretend I was a dummy and go on with my life as though nothing had happened, but—”

  “But you would have made a lousy dummy,” I said. “Even if you started bashing your head against the wall.”

  “Exactly,” said Melamori. “That’s why tonight I’m boarding that sinning Surf Thorn, and may the rest of the World go up in smoke!”

  “You’re doing the right thing,” I said softly. “Of course I’ll come to say goodbye. Do you know how to say goodbye forever? It’s the coolest thing going.”

  “Of course I don’t. It’s not something they teach ladies from respectable families. But I’m going to try anyway. Because I might very well never come back. I’ll be sending you calls from time to time, Max. I know you hate Silent Speech, though—”

  “All the more reason for me to practice it,” I said. “Look at me, such an all-important mister big guy, yet I stumble over my words like a baby. Sometimes I’m even ashamed to send a call to a courier.”

  “Well, I guess that’s about it then,” said Melamori, sighing. “I’ll send you a call around midnight. It will make things much easier for me if you come say goodbye to me. I’ll be embarrassed to shiver in trepidation and shed tears in front of you. I don’t want you to remember me with red eyes and a swollen nose.”

  “We’ll see who’s going to have a swollen nose and red eyes,” I said. “I’m about to start sniffling and snuffling myself.”

  “Don’t,” said Melamori. “You’re meeting your subjects. If they see you crying, they’ll think we pick on their sovereign, and they’ll declare war on us. Good day, Max. See you tonight.”

  Melamori rushed out and left me sitting alone in the living room. My mind was empty, my two hearts skipped now and then with vague premonitions, and my eyes actually did begin to water—something I hadn’t expected of myself. I shook my head a few times and then went downstairs. I walked into the empty dining hall of the Armstrong & Ella, sat down on a bar stool, and gave Tekki a guilty look.

  “Will you be able to tolerate me for a dozen days in the foulest mood possible?” I said.

  “A foul mood? You? For a dozen days? Ain’t gonna happen,” she said,
grinning. “You won’t hold out for thirty minutes.”

  “Drat it, you’re right,” I said. “But thirty minutes I can still manage.”

  “Then go to your palace and pour your foul mood onto the heads of your subjects. They’ll take anything from you. Unlike me.”

  “I guess I’ll do just that. Except that my mood isn’t so foul as to throw a cup of kamra in your face if you decide to treat me to it before I go.”

  “Really? Oh, I’m lucky then,” said Tekki and laughed. “Here, your majesty.”

  “Sometimes you really remind me of Melifaro,” I said, taking a sip of the best kamra in the World. “Why is that, I wonder?”

  “Because sometimes Melifaro is the very person you desperately need to chat with. He’s nowhere to be found, so I’m sitting in for him today,” said Tekki, turning serious suddenly.

  I looked at her, bewildered, but decided not to touch that dangerous topic.

  Eventually Tekki sent me off to the palace. Sometimes her sense of civic responsibility can outdo anyone else’s.

  The meeting with the delegation of nomads turned out to be fun. There was even a lively recklessness about it.

  Droopy was so happy to see me that he literally bowled me over as soon as I stepped onto the threshold of the Furry House. I deserved such treatment for abandoning him for so long. As a result, my subjects were given the rare opportunity to watch their heroic king fight a huge shaggy monster. Droopy refused to behave according to protocol. Then again, the same could be said about me.

  Eventually, I mustered up enough strength to push aside three hundred fifty pounds of barking fur and muscles. Then I remembered my own theory, according to which I was supposed to talk to my subjects while sitting in the doorway. Since that was where I was sitting already, it was time to start the show.

  “Do not waste words. I know why you have come. Your king knows of the heroic battle his subjects are engaged in,” I said with a pathos that contrasted with my behavior just moments ago. “Right, so who is the leader of the gang today?”

  The head of the delegation, a tall, muscular fellow in bright-crimson shorts, wearing a headband of the same color, came up to me. I handed him an envelope with the recommendations that the specialists at the Chancellory of Concerns of Worldly Affairs had been working on all night. Needless to say, I had never bothered opening it and reading what they had come up with. Now I felt like a bad student at a midterm exam. Granted, unlike a bad student, I could tell the professors to go jump in the lake and take their questionnaires with them. Being a king had its advantages after all.

  “What is this, sire?” the head of the delegation said in a timid tone, fumbling with the envelope.

  “It tells you what you’re supposed to do in written form,” I said. “It’s better than giving commands out loud. At least I’ll be sure there won’t be any confusion or misunderstanding. Take this to your general. I hope Barxa Bachoy is still riding at the head of our mighty warriors.”

  “Of course, sire,” said the fellow, bowing. “That is why he could not come and see you. I will be happy to give him these papers with your wise letters written on them.”

  “Goody,” I said, then stopped myself. “Hold on. Can you read?”

  “We cannot,” said the hero in crimson shorts.

  “Bummer,” I said. “I should have thought of that.”

  Actually, it was the royal advisers who should have thought of that, but now it was too late to blame anyone.

  “But some of your subjects can read, O Fanghaxra,” said Crimson Shorts.

  I heaved a sigh of relief. Phew! One less problem to worry about.

  “Some? Who exactly?” I said. I wanted to be sure, just in case.

  “Fairiba can read, and so can five of his pupils. Barxa Bachoy can read; Xenli, Barxa Bachoy’s daughter, can read; Oitoxti can—”

  “All right, all right,” I said. “I get the picture. In that case, I don’t have to worry about it. Go home, guys. I think you’d better hurry. I hope everything’s going to be all right. And tell Barxa that I’m rooting for him.”

  “Thank you, sire!” said the gang in an out-of-sync but rapturous chorus.

  Pfft, I thought, as if I’d root for any other team.

  That was where I had to bid my subjects farewell. I also wanted to have a few words with my harem, but the girls weren’t home. Little by little they were becoming busy ladies of the world. I wouldn’t have known where to find them.

  All my roads still led to the House by the Bridge, and that was where I set out to.

  I never made it to Juffin’s office. In the hallway, I was swept up by a bright-orange tornado. Upon closer examination, the tornado turned out to be Sir Melifaro. He whirled me around and around and around and sucked me into his office.

  “Don’t fret. Juffin’s occupied, and the others have gone Magicians know where,” he said. “Except Melamori, of course. She’s taking her handsome Aloxto out to air one last time, of course. Sneaky Kofa’s pretending to teach Kekki the tricks of his trade. I have to hand it to him: he’s the first man to finagle a way to take his girlfriend out to the best taverns in Echo at the Royal Treasury’s expense and get paid for it.”

  “Okay, that covers Kofa,” I said, “but what about Shurf?”

  “Beats me. He left looking like he was about to save humanity from impending doom. I didn’t dare ask. Naturally, later it’ll turn out he just snuck out to the library. Anyway, they all left me, and I’m stuck here covering their backsides instead of enjoying a dozen Days of Freedom from Care, which I’m sure I deserve after my trip through the swamps in the company of two unbearable fellows.”

  “There were no swamps there, stop making things up. By the way, now you’re going to be covering my backside, too,” I said, carefully putting my feet on his desk. “You see, I have a war going on and don’t have time for trifles. So you’re going to work two shifts now, and I’m going to grieve over the fate of my long-suffering people. Isn’t that awesome?”

  “Two words, buddy: dream on,” said Melifaro.

  For a few seconds I stared at his gleeful face. Then it dawned on me, and I laughed. Of course, he was repaying me for one of my comebacks with my own words!

  “You’re one rancorous son of a gun,” I said.

  “You bet, mister,” said Melifaro. Half an hour later he was gone, saying something about everybody but him having loads of fun, and I went to see Juffin.

  Juffin was uncommunicative. He sat at his desk, upon which self-inscribing tablets and—oh, mercy!—papers were piled up all around him.

  “You should busy yourself with something boring, too,” he said. “Routine is the best sedative. Just what a man needs right now.”

  “Want me to help you with paperwork?” I said.

  “No, this magic is well beyond your humble skills,” said Juffin with a sigh. “Don’t even think of touching it. Better yet, grab yourself a newspaper. It has the same effect.”

  I went to the Hall of Common Labor, sank into an armchair there, and, following Juffin’s advice, buried myself in a fresh copy of the Royal Voice. In less than an hour, I was already beginning to doze off. Juffin had been absolutely right: the newspaper bored the heck out of me.

  Juffin’s voice woke me up. “Magicians be praised, Max. Another dark patch in my life is over,” he said, running past me. “Good night.”

  I opened my mouth to discuss Melamori’s escape with him but closed it almost right away. Nothing had happened yet, so there was nothing to talk about.

  Juffin hesitated in the doorway and gave me a long look. Then he smiled a smile that was sad and mocking at the same time but didn’t say a word. The door closed behind him, and I was alone.

  Melamori sent me a call around midnight. She and Aloxto were waiting for me at the Makuri Pier.

  I seem to remember you had a water amobiler, she said. Her voice lacked confidence. Am I right?

  You are. Do you want to take a ride in it?

  Indeed. To the Admir
al’s Pier. You know, it’s being guarded. I don’t want them to see Aloxto and me there together. My daddy can’t seem to mind his own business.

  I woke up Kurush. “Looks like you’re going to have to hold down the fort alone, buddy.”

  “You have been gone for fourteen days,” said the buriwok. “You could have stayed at work for a change, at least for one night.”

  “I’d love to,” I said, sighing, “but the circumstances are beyond my control. Want me to bring you a pastry?”

  “Indubitably,” said the wise bird.

  A few minutes later I parked my amobiler at the Makuri Pier. I couldn’t have missed it if I’d wanted to: I had spotted Sir Aloxto Allirox’s snow-white hair blocks away.

  “I am happy to meet you, Sir Max,” Aloxto said in a polite whisper. His “whisper,” however, was the kind that made leaves shake on the trees.

  Whatever had happened to his patented Arvaroxian imperturbability? He looked not just happy but also lost, almost stunned. He probably still couldn’t believe that he was about to snatch Lady Melamori away, luring her with his beautiful eyes or his beautiful songs about his no less beautiful Arvarox.

  “I’m also happy to see you, Aloxto,” I said. “It’s too bad the pleasure will be so short-lived.”

  “And will never happen again,” Aloxto added.

  “Ah, but you never know,” I said.

  “I do,” he said softly. “I will never see this city again. Nor will I ever see you. I am one who knows his fate.”

  “Oh, in that case . . .” I fell silent. What was there to say?