The Stranger's Shadow

  “Evening, Max. Where are you hiding your formidable sea vessel?” Melamori said. She was peeking out from somewhere under her gigantic boyfriend’s elbow like a rabbit out of a magician’s hat.

  “I’m not hiding it,” I said, smiling. “It’s just moored. Let me go set the poor thing free. Wait here.”

  I ran to fetch my water amobiler, which, along with a few dozen cousins, was tied up, rocking to and fro in the lulling waters. A sleepy old man came out of his hut to help me, his face expressing annoyance. He looked at me with an almost superstitious horror. I don’t think it was my Mantle of Death—anyone who decided to take a ride down the river at midnight wouldn’t instill much trust.

  I gave the guard a crown, which improved his humor a bit.

  “When are you planning to return?” he said.

  “Not sure. Why?”

  “I’m here all the time, but I’m usually fast asleep in the morning. Just wake me up if you need anything.”

  “Oh, no worries,” I said. “I’ll tie it myself, it’s not difficult. Thank you, sir, and have a good night.”

  The old man nodded and hurried back into his little hut. I motioned to Melamori and Aloxto, and they joined me promptly.

  “Where are we going?” I said. “Oh, yes, the Admiral’s Pier. Does anyone know where it is?”

  Melamori let out a nervous laugh, and Aloxto took my question more seriously. His was the correct attitude—I had never navigated the Xuron at night. The dark mirror of the water and the orbs of blue and orange lights on the opposite bank were beautiful, but their beauty didn’t help me find my bearings one bit.

  “Do you see that spot of darkness to the right of Xolomi Island?” said Aloxto. “Just keep it in sight.”

  “All right, chief,” I said, maneuvering with great care and difficulty among the moored vessels. “Listen, Aloxto, there’s something I wanted to ask you. What happened to the gift that Melifaro gave you? I mean the signet ring.”

  “The one with a magical man inside? Oh, the gift is doing well. I did as Sir Melifaro suggested: when a great sorrow overcame me, I threw the signet under my feet. A man came out of it. He was very angry, yet his anger was not real. I mean to say that he was not angry the way the warriors of Arvarox get angry.”

  “I’ll bet he wasn’t,” I said, remembering Rulen Bagdasys, the Isamonian who had once made poor Melifaro hopping mad. To the best of my recollection, no one else had managed to do that to Melifaro since. Not even me.

  “And what did you do to him?” I said.

  “I was honored. Toila Liomurik the Silver Bigwig, Conqueror of Arvarox, himself agreed to accept that gift from me,” said Aloxto. “Now the Conqueror of Arvarox owns that magical man. He brings much joy to the Conqueror.”

  “Good golly!” I said, laughing. “Finally that fellow brings joy to someone.”

  I am still grateful to Rulen Bagdasys. If it hadn’t been for him, we would have had to talk about some terrifying things, such as life and death, or fate and eternity. Or worse—we’d have had to remain silent, and boy, do I hate awkward silence.

  Before I knew it, we were at the Admiral’s Pier, where The Surf Thorn lay rocking on the waves, ready to cast off.

  “Fare thee well, Max,” said Aloxto. Now that was a man who knew how to say goodbye forever.

  He made a mind-boggling jump, turning every notion of the limits of human ability upside down, and flew onto the deck of his ship almost like a bird.

  “You should leave now,” he said, bending down over the railing. “It is bad luck when someone stays behind and watches a ship cast off.”

  “Yes, I remember,” I said. Then I looked at Melamori.

  “So I’m leaving after all,” she said. “I still can’t believe it, though.”

  “You are leaving, for sure,” I said. “And I can’t believe it myself.”

  “I feel like you’ve come to my funeral,” she said. “I even want to ask you indignantly why you’re not sobbing. Although I’d probably be even more indignant if you were.”

  “Okay, then we’ll skip the sobbing part. Now go join Aloxto before you decide to spank me for bad behavior.”

  Another bird flew up on the deck of the ship from Arvarox.

  I grabbed the levers and tore off so fast, it looked like every single scary monster of every single horror film was after me at once. It helped me not to look back, which I desperately wanted to do. I thought that something terrible would happen if I looked back.

  But I didn’t look. Not once. Instead, I broke a couple of nails tying up my toy by the Makuri Pier, bestowed a few exquisite curses upon the World, and went back to the House by the Bridge. It felt like there was a huge gaping hole filled with cold river wind in my chest, but it was better than the pain of grief. At least it didn’t hurt.

  I fed Kurush, settled in the armchair, and even managed to catch a few z’s. I dreamed of the dark waters of the Xuron and two birds soaring in the sky—a large white seagull and a tiny black swift. I enjoyed watching them. Too bad in the dream I didn’t have bread crumbs, or seeds, or anything else the birds would have been interested in.

  “Enough working, Sir Max. You need to rest sometimes, too.”

  Juffin’s mocking voice woke me up at dawn. I opened my eyes and stared groggily at the boss, trying to figure out who he was. While I was at it, I also tried to figure out who I was.

  “You’d better start looking for a good hideout,” Juffin said merrily. “Sir Korva Blimm is going to chase you down the streets of Echo wielding one of the precious swords from his collection—there’s no two ways about it. And no Mantle of Death is going to protect you. He’ll show you what happens when you assist girls from respectable families escape with unsavory foreign gentlemen.”

  “Very funny,” I said, sighing. “I’ll think of something. If worse comes to worst, I’ll spit at him.”

  “Of course it’s funny,” said Juffin. “And don’t you dare start getting all sad and soppy on me. When a good person finally accepts her destiny, it is no reason for grief. Rather the contrary. Okay, fine. Do you want me to give you my word that she’s going to be all right?”

  “Your word, huh?” I said, cheering up. “Better yet, give me an official paper to that effect. I have an unshakeable trust in the printed word.”

  “Ah, much better now,” said Juffin, smiling. “Go home, Max. There’s someone waiting for you there. Also, when you have the time, think about how we’re going to manage here without our Master of Pursuit.”

  “I have a feeling that, when push comes to shove, I’m going to have to hop around standing on people’s traces. The crime rate will plummet overnight because they’re all going to die—both the guilty and the innocent.”

  “I was thinking very much along those lines,” said Juffin. “Now I think we’re going to be fine if you make an effort and at least try to control your gift. I don’t want to hire a replacement for Melamori because—”

  “Because she’s going to come back?” I said, my heart doing a flip-flop.

  “We’ll see. On the other hand, what is she going to do there? I’d be surprised if studying the ancient culture of Arvarox would be the only pastime for the rest of Melamori’s long—and trust me, it is long—life.”

  “Do you see me levitating?” I said. “It’s because you’ve just taken that heavy load off my mind.”

  “Good riddance.”

  “Now if you would only tell me what was in that box that Kofa brought for you . . .” I said, my voice trailing off.

  “No can do. I’m going to carry that secret to my grave,” said Juffin.

  “Okay, then. I’ll keep thinking that you keep a jack-in-the-box.”

  “A what?” said Juffin.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but that is a secret that I’m carrying to my grave,” I said.

  When I opened the bedroom door thirty minutes later, I froze in horror: Tekki wasn’t here.

  It wasn’t in her nature to get up so early, so I was really scared. I ev
en forgot to send her a call. Instead, I dashed into the living room. She wasn’t there, either. Frantic, I rushed downstairs, although I couldn’t imagine her standing behind the bar at this early dawn hour.

  Yet she was there after all. What’s more, she was not alone. I found her in the company of some strange creatures. Calling them human would have stretched the truth beyond recognition. At first I thought the Lonely Shadows had returned to Echo. Then, after I took a good look at them, I saw that the creatures were something else altogether.

  “Hi, Max,” said Tekki. “Meet my brothers. I told you about them, remember? They decided to drop by, and we stayed up late.”

  “Oh, your brothers’ ghosts,” I said and laughed, relieved. “Phew! Morning, fellows.”

  “Something wrong, Max?” If anyone, Tekki knew me like the back of her hand. She could easily tell my nervous laughter from genuine mirth.

  “Nah, I’m just . . . You know, I got really scared when I didn’t find you in the bedroom.”

  “Did you think I had slipped away to Arvarox with some yellow-eyed beauty boy?” she said.

  “Good morning, Max.” The rustling whisper of one of the apparitions interrupted our exchange. “I hope you’re not too shocked by our visit. People generally don’t take kindly to our company.”

  “Oh, not at all,” I said. “I’m happy you dropped by to visit your sister.”

  The situation was rather hilarious: Who else would be happy to catch his girlfriend in the company of sixteen ghosts? I laughed.

  “I’ve never seen a living human being so joyful,” said one of the ghosts approvingly.

  TWO

  DOROTH, MASTER OF THE MANOOKS

  “I HOPE IT DOES NOT SHOCK YOU THAT I DID NOT INVITE YOU INSIDE,” said Lonli-Lokli. “This evening does not dispose one to shutting oneself up in a living room.”

  I smiled from ear to ear. We had just made ourselves comfortable on a few of the thick branches of a spreading Vaxari tree growing in the nether reaches of his garden.

  “What really shocks me is not that you told me to go climb a tree—that’s pretty routine. I could never have imagined, though, that you’d manage to crawl up here yourself.”

  “Did you really think I didn’t know how to climb a tree?” he said, surprised. “Strange. It does not take much brainpower.”

  “I’m sure you can climb anything. It just never occurred to me that you’d do it voluntarily,” I said. “Such a lighthearted pastime doesn’t really jibe with your image.”

  “What image might that be?” Shurf said. “And whence the peculiar words?”

  I laughed. “The peculiar words are knocking about in the depths of my powerful intellect. And all I meant was that climbing trees isn’t really your style.”

  “In good weather I spend as much time in this tree as I do in my study. Especially if I want to read in peace. I do not invite just anyone here. You’re the first. Proximity to trees gives you a tranquility unlike any other. And that is just what you are lacking. Trees can teach us a great deal: peace of mind, for instance.”

  “Neat,” I said. “Too bad I don’t have my own garden, what with all my homes. And if I tried to find peace of mind by climbing a tree outside the House by the Bridge, people might get the wrong idea about me.”

  “They might, indeed,” Shurf said. “But even if you had a garden, what good would it do you? You never have any time for anything. You seem to just devour it whole.”

  This was true. Since the Great Hunt for the Lonely Shadows, nothing extraordinary had happened in my life. Sir Korva Blimm hadn’t even given me grief for assisting his only daughter in her escape to Arvarox. Yet my days slipped through my fingers like sand through a sieve. Several days before, Tekki had mentioned in passing that summer would soon be over, and I was floored. Summer? Over? But it had hardly gotten underway!

  “Do you remember my friend Anday Pu?” I said.

  “Certainly. It would be strange if I had forgotten such a great poet so soon. Incidentally, I lost track of him long ago. Perhaps you know how he is faring these days?”

  “He’s in Tasher. He publishes a picture-newspaper and earns heaps of money. In short, he’s enjoying life to the hilt in the wondrous land of his youthful dreams. And he sends me calls on a regular basis to complain about how tired he is of the ‘Tasherian plebs,’ who, he is convinced, ‘just don’t catch.’ He had to go all the way to the edge of the World just to pick up his old saw in a completely new place. But the reason I recalled him just now was that the poor guy was always broke as a joke, even after I landed him a job at the Royal Voice, and was in the habit of bemoaning the nasty habits of those ‘little round things’ that kept running away from him. I have the same problem with time. It keeps running away from me, and I’m powerless to do anything about it.”

  I started feeling like a hopeless slob, and my spirits plummeted accordingly. I don’t know how it happened.

  “In any case, there is no reason to be so out of sorts,” Shurf said. “There are two roads ahead of you. Either you change your life, or you allow it to continue as it is. I seem to have been mistaken in thinking my tree could bring you any peace and tranquility. It is more likely that you will teach it to fret over trifles.”

  “I hope not. It might decide to uproot itself and start running around town, trying to get its thoughts in order. And then we’d be chasing after it.”

  “I do not think it will come to that,” Lonli-Lokli said. “I have a question for you, Max. All those books from your World that you so kindly acquire for me from time to time—I must admit, the selection is quite baffling. Tell me, they all represent the same genre, do they not?”

  “Yes. I would even say . . .”

  I broke off, unable to pin down a fleeting thought. I had to think about it. Over the past half a year I had pulled out several dozen books from the Chink between Worlds. All of them fit more or less my definition of science fiction. Still, I hadn’t found a single familiar title among them; even the authors were unknown to me. Pretty strange, if you consider that back in the day I had been up to my ears in the genre, to put it mildly.

  “What are you thinking about?” Shurf said.

  “About those sinning books. There’s something wrong there. You know, recently I’ve managed to be pretty adroit at fetching things I really wanted. If I needed cigarettes, I got cigarettes—even my preferred brand. Consistently, without any bloopers. Not a single silly umbrella.”

  “Yes, you are learning that art surprisingly quickly.”

  “Perhaps,” I said, sighing. “But as soon as I reach for a book . . . I’ve tried to fetch some specific titles for you. Some were things I think are funny. Others I was sure would completely turn around your notions of my homeland. But it doesn’t work. I keep getting books written by unfamiliar authors. It’s almost like I’m taking them off the same bookshelf in some inconceivable library.”

  “I see. Well, the reason I brought it up is that I wanted to ask you whether there is some principle that guides you when you choose these books for me and, if so, which one. But now I understand that you have no control over it. You know, I very much like your idea about an ‘inconceivable library.’ There is a legend about the library of King Mynin. Have you heard it?”

  “No. What kind of library is it? Was it assembled by this very same legendary king?”

  “No, he did not found it. He found it somewhere on the Dark Side. The legend goes that it contains books that were never written.”

  “Huh?”

  “Well, consider this. Have you ever thought to yourself, I could write a good book, if only . . . ? You can insert any excuse there: ‘if I had time,’ ‘if I knew how to write books,’ ‘if so-and-so had not already written something similar,’ ‘if I really wanted to,’ and so on.”

  “If only you knew how often I’ve entertained that idea,” I said, smiling. “But hey, I guess this means that you’ve thought about it, too, on more than one occasion. Imagine that!”

  ?
??Let us just assume that I can imagine in theory what it would be like,” Shurf said. “In any case, the library that King Mynin found was a collection of books whose authors had never written a line. The legend goes that King Mynin realized this when he found his own book there—or, rather, the book he had wanted to write when he was a prince studying at the Royal Elevated School. He never wrote it, of course. Then he found books there written by his own childhood friends who had never become writers. He even discovered several familiar plots. He recognized them because they had been a topic of discussion among his friends many a time.”

  I was flabbergasted. “But if that’s the case, the library must be almost infinite!”

  “That is what the legend says. It describes the library as infinite and claims that it constantly changes location,” said Shurf.

  “Are you saying I managed to find a way to stick my hand in there?” I said in disbelief. “That’s just too weird.”

  “But why? It is right up your alleyway. It ‘jibes with your image.’ There. Is that how you say it?”

  “Right on,” I said, laughing in delight.

  “I certainly did not bring up King Mynin’s library so you would lose your last shred of sanity over it. I simply thought it might be interesting to corroborate the rumors, if the opportunity presents itself.”

  “Well, if it presents itself . . .” I said uncertainly.

  Maybe it was true that Lonli-Lokli hadn’t brought it up so I would lose my last shred of sanity. Nevertheless, that’s exactly what happened. I kept thinking about the legend of King Mynin’s library all the way to the House by the Bridge. Surprisingly, I managed to avoid crashing into one of the numerous streetlamps. Must have been just my luck.

  What oppressed me the most was the thought that one of the shelves might contain the pathetic fruits of the myriad stupidities that had once knocked around my good-for-nothing noggin. And to think that they all had my real name on them, and not some innocuous pseudonym. My only hope was that King Mynin—who had disappeared a couple thousand years before, never to be seen again, and with this extravagant flourish had put an end to his long and tempestuous reign—was the only visitor to this mysterious bookmobile.