The Isamonians readily got up from the Chair of Despair and minced along toward the exit.
“May we tell our elders that you will do everything in your power to avenge the death of Maklasufis?” said Ciceric. Once in the doorway, he felt much more confident. “Or else they will come down from the mountains, and then there will be trouble! Big trouble.”
“No, no,” said Juffin, laughing from surprise. “We don’t want them to come down from the mountains. We’ll manage somehow.”
And the Isamonians left.
“Funny,” said Juffin. “Those guys are funny, their hats are funny, and the whole story is funny. Too funny, in my book. Not exactly what a man needs if he wants to sleep until noon the next day. What do you think about this whole thing, Max?”
“Well,” I said, “just this evening I was examining the shadows of the passersby while I was on my way home. Mind you, not yesterday or a dozen days ago but this very evening. Moreover, I thought of asking you if shadows in Echo were in the habit of leaving home without their masters. I guess I just have.”
“As far as I know, it’s not customary,” said Juffin, smirking. “Why were you interested in shadows all of a sudden?”
“No reason,” I said. “I guess I was also seeing things, like Mr. Ciceric. Granted, no one died right before my very eyes. Maybe it was some kind of premonition. You know it happens to me from time to time.”
“You can say that again,” said Juffin. “All right, then. As far as I’m concerned, this night is good for only one thing: sleeping. So that’s what I’m going to do. We’ll save pondering for tomorrow. Don’t rush back home in the morning. Wait for me, okay?”
“You’re the boss,” I said. “Are you still planning to sleep until noon?”
“I love torturing people, but this isn’t a good time,” said the boss. “Don’t fret, I won’t be loafing under the blanket. In fact, soon none of us will have much time for loafing anyway.”
“That bad?” I said.
“I’m afraid so. But we’ll see. Good night, Max. And try to catch some sleep tonight, if you can. The one thing I can’t promise you now is a quiet life and several Days of Freedom from Care in a row.”
I had to hand it to Sir Juffin Hully. He managed to teach me to respect professional discipline and subordination. Following his orders, I spent the night sleeping on a makeshift arrangement of a desk chair and two armchairs.
“At last you have improved upon your previous design.” Kofa’s voice woke me up at dawn.
“I have? How?” I said, still sleepy.
“You used to make do with a single armchair and two desk chairs. If someone had to walk over to the window, your treacherous boots would inevitably catch him in the shins.”
“I see. I used to be young and reckless. Now I’m old and wise, I guess.” I yawned and realized that without a sip of Elixir of Kaxar, my life was not going to get off the ground. Sir Kofa watched the transformation from a sleepy, pathetic creature to a cheerful, contented Sir Max with fatherly indulgence. “What’s cooking in the Capital?” I said, enjoying the lively modulations of my own voice.
“Nothing much, save five fresh-dead bodies in the City Police morgue. Five sudden, inexplicable deaths. Identical to what happened to that poor Isamonian,” said Kofa.
“Wow!”
“Don’t get too excited about it, boy. We can’t make heads or tails of this without Juffin, and he’s not here yet,” said Kofa. “Better tell me how your spying on our lover boy ended yesterday.”
“Nothing much to report there, either. I was even moved to tears at the end. The only good thing was that the girls decided to spend the evening in the Kumonian Honey. Unlike his beloveds, Melifaro wholeheartedly despises Kumonian cuisine. I can relate. Their honey soups alone can spoil your appetite forever. Yuck.”
“Nonsense,” said Kofa. “I’m very familiar with Kumonian cuisine. It’s excellent.”
“Really?” I said. “Well, you know best. The girls would have agreed with you, too. Poor, poor Melifaro.”
“He’s really up a creek,” said Kofa. “To date a girl whose gastronomical preferences are so much at odds with your own . . . that’s terrible. I couldn’t do it.”
During breakfast, I entertained Kofa describing the Kumonian cooks and the antics of the tavern keeper. Granted, I edited the story a little bit, but it was a sacrifice I was willing to make for the sake of storytelling.
“Tell me this, Sir Max,” said Juffin, walking into the office. “Why were you never in the movies back in your home World? I’m thinking of displaying you to the general public for money, if only through a keyhole, for starters.”
“Never a day goes by that I don’t ask myself the same question,” I said. “I guess they weren’t very smart there in the movie business. Did you not get enough sleep?”
“How very shrewd of you to notice,” said Juffin. “I hope you haven’t drunk the rest of my Elixir.”
“Nope. There’s still some left.”
“Praise be the Magicians. Give it to me,” said Juffin. “Kofa, don’t leave. I have something to talk to you about.”
“I thought so,” said Kofa.
“Now out of my armchair, kid!” said Juffin. After a few gulps of Elixir of Kaxar, Juffin got into a mischievous mood. Too mischievous, if you asked me. He lifted up the armchair I was sitting in—and I wasn’t the lightest person by a long shot—and shook me out of it onto the floor like apples from a basket. Sir Kofa was delighted, and I had to contend with a mild shock.
“Hey! That hurt,” I said, rubbing my tailbone. “Now I’m disabled. You can deal with your problems on your own. I need a good wiseman.”
The boss frowned and waved his hand up and down my back. “Liar,” he said. “Not even a bump.”
“There could have been,” I said. “My goodness, Juffin, that’s just plain hooliganism.”
“Right you are,” said Juffin. “After a night full of gruesome thoughts, I have the right to a little bit of disorderly conduct.”
“All right, then,” I said. “By the way, how did you manage to lift both me and the chair? Together we weigh quite a bit.”
“My dear boy,” said Kofa, laughing. “You can’t even begin to imagine what this skinny Kettarian can do. I once witnessed him pull a streetlamp out of the ground just to slam one unfortunate fellow with it. Mind you, there was no magic involved whatsoever.”
“I believe you,” I said. “You have thoroughly intimidated me, gentlemen magicians. I want to go home to my mommy.”
The elderly evil magicians snickered. While they were at it, Juffin managed to clear the desk of the remains of our breakfast, send a call to the Glutton Bunba, and even order seconds.
“Laughing aside, we’re in big trouble,” he said. “Up to our ears in trouble, in fact. I wish we could dismiss the testimony of that Isamonian as just his wild imagination, but to my chagrin, I have proof that he was right. The most revolting kind of proof.”
“Oh dear, Juffin,” said Kofa, shaking his head. “Is this part of your foul early morning mood, or is it—”
“Boy, is it!” said Juffin. “My mood has nothing to do with it. I didn’t sleep last night. Instead, I sent my Shadow for a walk around Echo. It got offended and now it’s pretending it caught a cold strolling in the cold spring wind.”
“That explains why you look like a wreck,” said Kofa. “So how was the walk?”
“Horrible,” said Juffin. He stretched his limbs, crossed his arms over his chest, and stared into space. My heart sank as I awaited the rest of the story. I hadn’t seen Juffin in such a weird mood in a long time. “There are at least a dozen Lonely Shadows hanging around Echo. Maybe more. I didn’t run into them, but I sensed them,” he said and fell silent again.
“May I ask you to continue?” I said.
“Yes, you may. I keep forgetting that you need a more detailed explanation. A Lonely Shadow is a shadow cast by no one. In my entire life I have only met a Lonely Shadow once. It happened
a very long time ago when I was an intern in the office of the sheriff of Kettari. Back then it was the Shadow that was chasing me, not the other way around. I got away, and later Sheriff Mackie finished it off. I helped him do it, so one could say I learned it from him. Generally, they are virtually ineradicable, those Shadows, but thanks to the old hand Mackie, I have one neat trick up my sleeve.”
“Are those Lonely Shadows really dangerous?” I said.
“Incredibly dangerous,” said the boss. “Once a Lonely Shadow touches the shadow of a living person, the person dies on the spot, and his shadow becomes one of the Lonely Shadows. The worst part is that this can spread like a plague. I already gave orders to the authorities not to turn the streetlamps on at night. No light, no shadows. So the inhabitants are safe at night, at least when they’re outside—that is, if they have enough brain matter to take heed of my advice, lock themselves up at home, and not turn on the lights.”
“What about the sun and the moon?” said Kofa.
“Yes, the weather is going to pose a lot of trouble, too,” said Juffin. “We must see to it right after breakfast. I’m really counting on Sir Shurf: he’s the expert in all weather-related issues. Fortunately, this morning the sky is cloudy as it is, so we have some time.”
“It does look bad, doesn’t it?” I said. “How are we going to get out of this?”
“We will somehow,” said Juffin, sinking his teeth into a fresh, crusty bun. “You go ahead and help yourself, Max. Don’t pretend you’ve lost your appetite. I’m not buying that.”
“But I have,” I said, mechanically popping a product of blessed Madam Zizinda’s cuisine into my mouth.
“I can see that,” said Juffin. “Cheer up, Sir Max. We’re going hunting today. That’s a new adventure for you. For me, too.”
“I don’t understand why you said you had something to talk to me about,” said Kofa. “As far as I can tell, this is precisely one of the cases in which I will be of no use to you.”
“And that’s precisely why you will be dealing with the possible consequences,” said Juffin. “I’m leaving Melamori with you, and . . . well, that’s about it, I think. There’s always Sir Lookfi, of course, but I don’t believe he’s going to neglect his buriwoks and rush to help you, even if the World starts to fall apart and you’re left holding up the sky on your own two shoulders. Which is more or less what has already happened.”
“I thought as much,” said Kofa. “Perhaps you’re exaggerating a tad, Juffin.”
“I hope so,” said Juffin. “Although, it doesn’t look like it.”
Shurf Lonli-Lokli appeared in the doorway and gave each of us a piercing look. The office suddenly grew much brighter from his snow-white attire.
“Good morning, gentlemen,” he said.
“It’s good of you to come so quickly, Sir Shurf,” said Juffin. “There’s a job just for you. If memory serves, the Mad Fishmonger once played a very neat trick on the inhabitants of Echo. I’m referring to the night that lasted three days in a row. The black clouds that let no sunlight through. Ring a bell?”
“Of course,” said Lonli-Lokli.
“Can you pull it off one more time?”
“Certainly, but I will have to breach the Code of Krember since I will be working outside in the open and not down in one of your basements.”
“That’s a no-brainer,” said Juffin. “Don’t worry about it. Under the circumstances, we can break a few laws. Leave it to me.”
“In that case, you can count on me. Please be so kind as to send a call to Jafax. I will be needing a bottle of Ancient Darkness. I am sure they still keep that wine in their cellars. The last time I summoned the storm clouds, I was drinking Ancient Darkness. Back then one could easily get it at any grocer’s. My job will be easier if I copy my actions to the letter, without disregarding any detail, however minute.”
“You’re a sly one,” said Juffin, laughing. “For a bottle of Ancient Darkness, I myself would turn day into night and leave it at that till kingdom come. But all right. Grab your chance, Sir Shurf.”
The boss fell silent, concentrating, then looked at me and said, “I’m going to have to demote you temporarily, Sir Max. I need a fast driver. Go to the Transparent Gates of Jafax. A messenger from Sir Kima will be waiting for you there with a bottle of something marvelous. The worst part is that, instead of drinking its contents, you’re going to have to bring it over here and hand it to Sir Shurf. Will it kill you?”
“It most certainly will,” I said. “Then again, my corpse may turn out to be as good a driver as me.”
“I’ll give you fifteen minutes,” said Juffin.
“Pfft. I’ll be back in ten,” I said. “That is, if Sir Kima’s messenger doesn’t make me tarry at the gates listening to the comprehensive report on the health of Magician Nuflin.”
“One must always hope for the best,” said Juffin. “I’ve given them quite a scare.”
I nodded and shot out of the office like a bullet. Two minutes later I stopped the amobiler by the Transparent Gates of the Residence of the Order of the Seven-Leaf Clover. I think I broke my personal record.
A short, fragile young man in a blue-and-white looxi of the Order, Sir Kima Blimm’s messenger, appeared out of nowhere a few moments later. He bowed and handed me a woven basket. Judging from its weight, there was more than one bottle in it.
“Sir Kima asked me to tell you that he is so confident of your success that he wishes you to have the means to celebrate it,” said the young man.
“Excellent. Please extend my gratitude to Sir Kima, and . . . no, no ‘ands.’ I will tell him myself. That’s what Silent Speech is for,” I said.
I jumped into the amobiler and grabbed the lever. I think I drove back to the House by the Bridge even faster, if that was possible.
“Good golly, Max! Eight minutes,” said Sir Kofa. “We timed it.”
“You can cut half a minute off of that,” I said. “I did have to wait for him, but not for long. And now—surprise! We got more than we asked for. Mind you, I didn’t cast a spell or enchant anyone.”
“You sure know how to turn on the charm,” said Juffin, examining the contents of the basket. “Four bottles of Ancient Darkness instead of one. I don’t recognize good old Kima Blimm. He’s always been such a skinflint.”
“By the way, I once managed to reconcile Sir Kima with his niece,” I said, boasting. “Our Lady Melamori, as you know, is terrifying in her ire. So at least one bottle here is my personal reward.”
“I have no objections to that,” said Juffin. “You always share your most valuable prizes with us, you silly boy.”
“It’s because I’m dying for people to love me,” I said with a smirk. “I suck up to everyone the best I can.”
Meanwhile, Lonli-Lokli took his holey cup out from the folds of his looxi, uncorked one of the bottles, and transfused its contents into his magic vessel. The precious wine did not spill over but froze in a fragrant dark-lilac cylinder above the top of the cup. Lonli-Lokli took a sip from the top of the viscous iceberg. The iceberg began to melt, slowly but surely, until the cup in Lonli-Lokli’s hands was full, and then became empty again.
He handed it to me. “Now you drink something out of it, Max. Once, it turned out you were capable of finding strength on this path. You should not pass up the chance now. We will all need a great deal of strength today,” he said and sauntered out of the office.
“Is he really going to conjure up magic right out on the street?” I said, watching the door close behind him.
“No need to do it on the street,” said Juffin, smiling. “The Epoch of Orders has long gone. I think he’ll go up on the roof of Headquarters. I’d do that, if I were him, anyway. By the way, Sir Shurf is known for giving excellent advice. If I were you, I’d stop playing around with his cup and do as he said. Shall I open Kima’s present for you?”
“No, no. I remember that just drinking ordinary kamra from this cup has the strongest effect on me, like the night I fle
w around above the rooftops of Echo, generally doing Magicians know what. I think it makes sense to repeat that experiment,” I said.
“Well, suit yourself,” said Juffin. “You’re no fun, Sir Max. As soon as I find a decent pretext for opening up another bottle of this godsend, you turn me down.”
“I’m just superstitious,” I said. “I’m worried that if we drink Kima’s wine now, instead of waiting and celebrating the success of our mission, there will be nothing to celebrate later on.”
“All right. If you’re worried, we’d better not take any chances,” said Juffin. However surprising this might sound, he took my silly superstition with true seriousness.
I filled Lonli-Lokli’s holey cup with excellent kamra from the Glutton Bunba—again bemused that the liquid did not drain from it—and drank it down.
The already familiar sensation of lightness, which was difficult to describe, replaced the feeling of wellness. I felt sincerely perplexed about how I had managed to live my whole life in the heavy, unwieldy body I had inhabited just a few moments before. How had I ever dreamed of turning the world upside down or flying in the clouds with a body like that?
“Has there been a palace coup while I was suffering from insomnia?” said Melifaro. He had somehow managed to appear in the office, sit down beside me, and—the most brazen thing of all—snatch a cookie from my plate and shove it into his mouth. “I don’t get it,” he continued with his mouth full. “Lonli-Lokli is going at it up on the roof. He’s throwing bolts of lightning left and right and howling like a banshee. Our poor police brethren are lying around in a dead faint, I’m sure. Has he been drinking, or what?”
“Has he been drinking?” I said, laughing. “He killed a whole bottle of Ancient Darkness in a single gulp. But never mind him. Help yourself to something sweet instead.”
My hint missed the mark. Sir Melifaro was interested in completely different matters.
“What on earth are you doing with his holey cup?” he said in the tone of a sufferer. “Are you drinking from it? Oh my, oh my. The World has come to an end after all. Now it’s going to face its undoing in an ordinary and merry fashion. I was wondering why girls don’t love me, and it turns out it’s just the first sign of universal madness.”