The Stranger's Shadow

  “But I was here?” I said cautiously.

  “I hope so,” Tekki said with a shrug. “When I lay down to sleep, you were here. When I woke up, you were still here somewhere under a pile of blankets. At least I think you were. I didn’t want to wake you up, so I just got up and went down to the bathing pools. The rest of the time I was watching one remarkable dream. And you were definitely not there . . . Do you think you might have been somewhere else?”

  “I don’t know. To be honest, you are so beautiful that I don’t even care.”

  “You have terrible taste.”

  I could hear unfeigned sadness in Tekki’s voice. This was our oldest and most stubborn controversy. She held great attraction for me—but for herself, not a drop.

  I made it to Juffin’s office just after lunch. He greeted me with the heaviest of his trademark gazes. I settled myself in the armchair opposite him and gazed back. A few moments later I realized that this stare-down contest was not really what he had in mind, and I started to talk.

  “This is the first time it’s happened to me. So much to tell, but I don’t seem to have a single word to describe it. Sinning Magicians, where is my good old motormouth now?”

  “It’s all right,” Juffin said, interrupting me. “It’s over now. The rag dolls are people again. Sir Shurf Lonli-Lokli is whole and unharmed, snoozing at home, and you’re here. You did everything that was required. I don’t need a report. It’s better without it. You’re a big boy now. You have every right to your own secrets.”

  “I guess so,” I said. “As for Shurf, I doubt he’s snoozing. I think he’s reading. Stephen King, believe it or not,” I said and laughed uncontrollably.

  “Is it really so amusing?” Juffin said.

  “Yep. Only for me, though. I’m afraid Shurf will be shaken to the depths of his noble soul, and in the evening it will turn out that I owe him a good dinner, what with certain writers from my World making up horrific stories. That’s always how I have to pay for their rash literary experiments.”

  “Wait a minute,” the boss said. “The name sounds familiar: Stephen King. Does he by any chance make movies?”

  “Not directly, no, but there must be a few film adaptations of his books. You’ve probably seen them.”

  “The Langoliers,” Juffin said confidently. “I watched it last night while you and Shurf were gadding about on the Inside-Out of the Dark Side. What a word! Sounds like the worst of the old incantations. He wrote that story up, didn’t he?”

  “Yes. What did you think of it?

  “It’s the most terrifying tale I’ve ever heard. And such verisimilitude,” Juffin said. “At first it was very hard for me to believe in a huge flying machine that contained so many people, but I’ve seen them so often now in the movies that I’ve gotten used to the idea. They really do exist in your world, don’t they?”

  “Airplanes? Yes, of course they do. When I become a very old and powerful sorcerer, I’ll get hold of one and give it to you as a gift on the Last Day of some far-off year or other. Would you accept it?”

  “Thank you, but no thanks,” the boss said. “If one is to believe what one sees in the movies, nothing good can come of them. By the way, Max, have you already sent a messenger to your subjects? Sir Melifaro, as you will recall, said that they had occupied someone’s garden a few hours’ ride outside Echo.”

  “I’d rather go there myself. It will be much faster, and it will be a pleasurable outing for me into the bargain. Will you give me some time off?”

  “Who am I to stop a foreign monarch from visiting his subjects?” Juffin said, laughing. “Plus, you’ll come right back, won’t you?”

  “Sure. In the evening. Well, during the night, at the latest.”

  “Hey, hold your horses! During the night? Who’s going to work while I’m watching movies?”

  “Okay, the evening, then. It’s still very easy to come to an understanding with me.”

  Melifaro caught up with me on the way out of Headquarters. Reason suggested he should be very tired and very happy just about now. My guess was only partly correct, however. He wasn’t able to get a good night’s sleep, of course, but the lover boy’s brow showed telltale creases of brooding contemplation. Still, when he saw me, he smiled from ear to ear.

  “It’s definitely time for me to kill you, Nightmare. As though it wasn’t enough that my girlfriend happens to be your wife, now she’s crazy about you after all your mutual adventures.”

  “Yeah, some adventures. But what I’d like to know is, why are you so bent out of shape, man? Is anything wrong?”

  “Yes. Everything’s wrong. Are you in a hurry?”

  “Theoretically, I’m already late. I am due to meet with my subjects in someone else’s garden. At the same time I’m about to faint from hunger. So while I’m devouring delicacies, you may humbly report to me on your suddenly discombobulated life.”

  “Where did you get the idea that it’s discombobulated? You are truly a great man, O Fanghaxra!” said Melifaro. “Where are you going to stuff yourself?”

  “One should stuff oneself in the Glutton, naturally,” I said.

  And we set off for the establishment of the incomparable Madam Zizinda.

  “You’ve chosen just the right moment to visit your subjects,” Melifaro said, after we had made ourselves comfortable at a table. “You couldn’t have chosen a better time.”

  “What’s with this sudden interest in the foreign policy of the Unified Kingdom?” I grinned at him, trying to come to grips with the endless list of dishes the menu had to offer.

  “Quit mocking me,” he grumbled.

  “Well, this is rich. Sir Melifaro is telling me to stop mocking him? Are you feeling all right, buddy?”

  “Fine, fine,” he said, sighing. “You see, Max, it breaks down like this. I’m feeling so fine, I’m planning to get married. And not just to anyone but to your wife.”

  “Well, I already guessed that part. But why? I mean, why get married? Everything’s fine just the way it is, isn’t it?”

  “Oh, everything’s wonderful,” he said. “But you see, I want Kenlex to move in with me. Did you really think I’d allow my girlfriend to stay on in your enchanted palace that’s infested with horrible little magical mice? Moreover, you show up there from time to time—and you’re no picnic yourself, when you think about it. Besides, I’ve never been married. Why not try it? Manga will be delighted, not to mention Mama.”

  “Well, it’s your funeral. But why bring me into it? Do you need my parental blessing?”

  “Kenlex does,” he said morosely. “And it’s not just yours she needs, unfortunately. This morning she told me that besides you, the Xenxa people have some ‘wise elders,’ headed by your ingenious military commander Barxa Bachoy. Without their consent, Kenlex will never risk becoming my wife. The poor girl doesn’t want to quarrel with all her people at once, and that’s understandable.”

  “And what am I supposed to do? Explain to Barxa Bachoy and his friends that my wife felt a sudden urge to get married again to someone else? Okay. I suppose I can do that. Send a call to Kenlex. You’re coming with me.”

  “Do you think that would be better?” Melifaro said.

  “Of course. I’ll tell my subjects that I can’t live without you, so I decided to give you my wife as a keepsake. I’ll come up with some elevated nonsense. If something goes wrong, we’ll all be in it together. I don’t want to take the rap for you alone.”

  “You’re a true Monster, Max,” Melifaro said gently. “And the most genuine barbarian from the borderlands, whatever mystical nonsense you may have made up about your former life in some faraway world. Giving away your wife to any stranger like an old, worn-out skaba . . . Well, to be honest—I adore you!”

  “How can you adore an uncouth barbarian from the borderlands who gives away his wives to any strangers . . . and his old skabas at the same time?”

  When I was a child, I didn’t dream that Santa Claus would come to me bearing gift
s. I had bigger ambitions. My dream was to become that generous Christmas magician with a sack of presents myself. It looked like the dream had come true.

  Surprisingly, it only took Kenlex thirty minutes to get to the Glutton. I seated the lovebirds in the back seat of the amobiler, and we were off.

  “Prepare yourself for the worst, Ken,” Melifaro said as we approached the Gates of Kexervar the Conqueror. “Do you know how fast our worthy Master Fanghaxra drives along country roads? You’re about to find out.”

  “Don’t be a fearmonger,” I snarled as the amobiler gathered speed. “Maybe she’ll like it.”

  “I do like it, though it is a bit scary,” Kenlex said politely. “We won’t crash, will we?”

  “Well, that depends,” I said. Then I checked myself and said, “No, no. Of course we won’t. Word of honor.”

  “Really? Then I won’t worry,” she said with relief.

  I realized with horror that this young girl believed implicitly every word I said. And I had thought I’d have to bite my tongue only when I was roaming around on the Dark Side.

  After about half an hour, I saw we had arrived. Next to the road antlered menkals were roaming about among carts piled high with goods. The Supreme Military Commander Barxa Bachoy spied my black turban from afar and dashed over to greet us.

  “What an honor, sire!” my top brass said, trying to prostrate himself before me. He looked at Kenlex and nodded knowingly. “I see you were able to lift the Manook mouse’s curse from her, Fanghaxra.”

  “From her and from all the others, too,” I said. “I need to speak with you, Barxa. Please sit down next to me.”

  “In your chariot?”

  “Yes. It’s more comfortable to sit in here than on the ground, even when it’s covered with a rug.”

  Barxa Bachoy nodded submissively and got into the amobiler. He had the look of a person determined to undertake an exploit.

  “What did you want to speak to me about, sire?” he said. “About the Manooks?”

  “Yes, about them, too. This silly idea about bringing their captive king to me to swear his allegiance and all that other nonsense—I don’t like it. Forget about it, Barxa.”

  “What will we do with the Manooks?” he said pragmatically.

  “Kill them,” I said curtly. I was surprised at the indifference in my own voice. It was like I had been issuing orders for mass execution every day for years on end, and I considered it the most routine aspect of my job.

  “All of them?” Barxa said, as though he couldn’t believe his ears.

  “To a man. Children and grown-ups, men and women. Not because they set their monstrous mouse leader on me. I am not vengeful, and if it were up to me, I would leave everything just as it is. But I know things about the Manooks now that I didn’t know before. These unfortunates are laboring under three hundred eighteen curses—and what curses! Their ancestors were cursed by all the mouse kings of the Uandook continent in succession. All except the last one, Doroth, who decided to cooperate with them. After that moment, luck deserted him, too. First, he lost his freedom when King Mynin pressed the lot of them into service. In fact, when they were with Mynin, their affairs didn’t go too badly. Sometimes the luck and goodwill of the Origin is enough to counteract a curse. But Mynin’s successor, who banished the Manooks from Echo—he knew what he was doing. A curse is catching, like disease. Remember this, Barxa. This is why you must kill the Manooks—so you may survive and not be destroyed yourselves. Do you understand?”

  “I understand, sire,” my commander said reluctantly.

  “Can you explain to my people why this is necessary?”

  “I cannot, but old Fairiba, can. He has been telling me the same thing since the very first war with the Manooks. He knows that the Manooks are cursed. But I did not want to kill them. When you kill an innocent, his spirit will visit you every night to ask you, ‘Why?’”

  “That is appalling, I agree,” I said. “But I have a proposition. You may tell those you kill that you are doing it on my orders. Let them come to me if they have the urge, straight to the House by the Bridge. I’m usually there at night. After all, battling restless corpses is part of our job. Right, Sir Melifaro?” I turned to the couple, who were sitting quietly in the back seat.

  “Man, give me a break,” Melifaro said, heaving a sigh. “Until today I was sure I was only joking when I called you Monster. I sure hoped I was, at least.”

  “Maybe you yourself foretold it,” I cut him off sharply. “You can’t keep hammering away with one joke, year after year, and expect it to go unpunished.”

  “So you are giving me permission to tell the children of the Manooks that I am killing them on your orders?” Barxa Bachoy said.

  “Of course,” I said with a shrug. “Who am I to prevent a good man from telling the truth?”

  “Then I will do as you say, sire.” My brave commander said this with unconcealed relief.

  “Okay, that’s that,” I said, pounding my knee with my fist. “Now I must ask your advice.”

  “You need my advice, sire?” Barxa said.

  “That’s right. Listen carefully. I have something of a family problem, Barxa. I have three whole wives, and I have one very good friend. My friend is very distressed that I have so many wives while he has none. He cries into his pillow at night and refuses to eat. I am unable to endure his suffering any longer.”

  “Why doesn’t he just get married?” Barxa said.

  “Just look at him, Barxa. He’s so ugly that women run away when they see him.”

  “Wha—?” Melifaro bellowed.

  Take it easy, my friend. I had to resort to Silent Speech to soothe the ruffled feathers of the insulted and injured in the back seat. Do you want to marry Kenlex? Then just shut up and sit tight.

  You’re really pushing it, he said, but he held his tongue after that.

  “In fact, not one woman would freely consent to be his wife,” I went on, turning back to Barxa. “But since this unfortunate person is my best friend, I have decided to help him. I want to give him one of my wives as a gift. This is the only solution. I have been trying to persuade Kenlex for some time, and now she has agreed to submit to my decision. She insists, however, on getting your permission. The opinion of the elder of her people is very important to her.”

  “You are the best of the women of Xenxa, Kenlex,” Barxa said in a heartfelt manner. “You are prepared to refuse the title of queen and give your life to an ugly man whom all other women shun.” At this point I clearly heard the gnashing of poor Melifaro’s teeth. “And you are prepared to do this in order to fulfill the wishes of your king. This is an act worthy of the daughters of Isnouri!”

  “So you are giving me your permission to become his wife, Uncle Barxa?” Kenlex said timidly. “And you will tell the others that there is no need to be angry with me?”

  “Angry? We will fall at your feet, daughter,” Barxa said solemnly. “We will sing hundreds of ballads in your honor. You are the first of the daughters of Xenxa to sacrifice herself in this way to her king.”

  “Well, okey-doke, then,” I said. “I am glad that you appreciate her courage, Barxa. I myself will never forget this immortal deed. Now I must go greet the others, I suppose, and say goodbye at the same time. We must return to Echo, and you have a long journey home ahead of you.”

  After a short consultation with the nomads on the occasion of my surprise visit, we were free as birds. We could get back into the amobiler and drive to our hearts’ content in whatever direction we wished. The direction my heart was seeking at that moment led straight back to the marvelous Capital of the Unified Kingdom.

  “You know, Nightmare, that was too much,” Melifaro said angrily. “It was awfully kind of you to organize everything so quickly and easily, but it’s been a long time since I felt such an overwhelming urge to punch someone in the nose.”

  “Well, go ahead and do it. What does that have to do with me? And what are you so miffed about, anyway? You wante
d to get married to Kenlex. Be my guest. If she hasn’t reconsidered in the meantime, of course. You haven’t reconsidered, have you, Kenlex?”

  “No,” she said, smiling. Then she added shyly, “Max, you were fooling Uncle Barxa, I think, weren’t you? I mean, Sir Melifaro is certainly not that ugly.”

  “I like how precisely you put it,” I said, feeling quite happy. “‘Not that ugly’—how true!”

  “Maybe I will punch you in the nose,” Melifaro said pensively. “Otherwise I might just explode.”

  “Don’t even dream of it,” I said sternly. “Now you are my subject, buddy. Your duty is a small one: to bow down before me and await my command.”

  “No, I won’t punch you,” Melifaro said, sighing. “I will just strangle you. And I will be saving our wondrous World from its worst scourge at the same time. What’s Loiso Pondoxo compared to you!”

  “You are just joking, aren’t you?” Kenlex said unhappily. “Or are you really fighting?”

  “See what you’ve done?” I said. “Don’t scare the child, Sir Secret Investigator.”

  “Of course we’re joking,” Melifaro whispered to her. “We sometimes joke even worse than this, so you should try to get used to it . . . The sire’s cruisin’ for a bruisin’ one of these days, though.”

  The last remark was loud enough for me to hear it. I shook it off, then picked up speed. They have their simple pleasures—and I have mine.

  I dropped them off on the Street of Gloomy Clouds, next to Melifaro’s house. He didn’t invite me in this time. He was right not to. If they needed me for anything else, it wouldn’t be this evening, in any case.

  Then I set out for the House by the Bridge. Where else?

  “I’m glad you made it back so soon,” Juffin said, pleased.

  He was still sitting in his office, but he didn’t look like he was doing any work. He was probably just waiting for me. He examined me closely and said, “How are things, Sir Max?”

  “Okay, I guess. Only I just gave orders for the genocide of a people. While I was at it, I helped some lovers get hitched. Great, huh?”