The Stranger's Woes

  “Hmm,” said Juffin. “Then it’s best not to procrastinate. But who should we send on this case? You, Max, might accidentally kill the poor boy. Melamori’s already busy. Should I try it myself? I used to be pretty good at it.”

  “Don’t take the bread out of my mouth, Juffin,” said Melamori. “By the way, I found the trace of another dead man. Pretty unusual, but the owner is dead for sure. Very strange, though. Are you sure there was only one dead body here?”

  “We’re not sure about anything,” said Juffin. “But I have an idea. Do me a favor, Melamori, and step on Max’s trace for a moment.”

  “Why?” said Melamori.

  “Just do it for me, will you?” said Juffin.

  “Okay.”

  She came to me from behind, shuffled her feet for a moment, and gasped. I turned around. I hadn’t seen her that scared for a long time.

  “This is your trace, Max,” she said, her lips pale and barely moving. “When did you die?”

  “Last night,” said Juffin. “Don’t fret, Melamori. He’s more alive now that he ever was. You can take my word for it.”

  “I’m alive and kicking, Melamori, really,” I said. “I’m not a corpse, I’m a good guy!”

  “Phew! I don’t like your jokes, gentlemen,” said Melamori.

  “Why do I have the trace of a dead man?” I asked Juffin in alarm. “I’m not a zombie, am I?”

  “No, no. You’re perfectly fine, Max,” said Juffin. “But the trace is firmly attached to you body’s memory of itself, and your body remembers its own death. Hence the confusion. But look at the bright side: it’s an excellent disguise. You never know, it may come in handy.”

  “Who would I need to hide from?” I said. “I have no reason to hide from Melamori.”

  “No, not yet. But spend a few more years working for the Secret Investigative Force, and you’re bound to end up with a few powerful nemeses. Just you wait,” said Juffin. Then he turned to Melamori. “Don’t be mad at me, my lady. I didn’t want to upset you, but sometimes it pays for the Master of Pursuit to acquire new experience, don’t you think? In any event, now you know that a dead man’s trace can sometimes only seem like a dead man’s trace.”

  “I’m not mad,” Melamori said quietly. “But you really did scare me. Okay, I’m going to keep looking for the trace of that powerful Magician. But I don’t think it’s here. I’ve looked almost everywhere already.”

  “Are you sure?” said Juffin. “The body was found in the living room.”

  “It’s not hard to move the body to another room,” I said.

  I had the age-old wisdom of myriad detective novels from my World on my side, so I didn’t doubt for a second that I was right. To my surprise, though, Juffin didn’t tap his forehead and exclaim, “Oh my, why didn’t I think of that!”

  Instead, he said, “That’s a strange idea . . . Dragging a dead body around. Then again, people’s heads are full of strange ideas. Let’s give it a try. Where do you think we should begin?”

  “How about the bedroom?” I said. “On second thought, scratch that. How about his workshop? He wouldn’t be changing the appearance of his clients in the living room, I don’t think.”

  “Indeed,” said Juffin. “Melamori, step on the trace of that Arvaroxian. I just got word from Melifaro. He says that the new prisoner is, indeed, Mudlax, which I didn’t doubt for a second. He also says that his new face looks nothing like the one Ariama described to me just yesterday. What is clear is that Mudlax came here to change his face again. And he got what he came for. His trace should lead us to that very ‘workshop,’ as Max has christened it. Where did you pick up this bureaucratic jargon, Max?”

  “On the border of the County Vook and the Barren Lands, naturally. While I was sitting on my throne there, alone among the boundless steppes.”

  Melamori shuffled her feet in the middle of the living room and then went downstairs.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if Varixa Ariama’s ‘workshop’ turned out to be the bathroom,” said Juffin. “Very romantic.”

  We did have to cross a spacious room, in the center of which stood a toilet bowl. Melamori hesitated by the back wall and turned to us.

  “There must be some secret passage here,” she said. “His trace runs right into the wall.”

  “Interesting,” said Juffin. “Well, a secret passage poses no problem.”

  He tapped the wall with his palm in a series of short chopping motions. A thin streak of pale light outlined the neat contour of a small door. The door opened with a mournful creak.

  “It’s not too happy about this,” said Juffin. Then he made a gallant bow to Melamori. “After you, my lady.”

  Melamori had to stoop down to walk through the door and into a small, dark room. Juffin and I had to crawl on all fours to squeeze in.

  “Ah, it’s the same old story: the smaller the door, the easier it is to make it invisible,” Juffin grumbled. “I’m only glad it’s not a mouse-hole. Well, my girl, have you found anything interesting in here?”

  “And how!” said Melamori. “An excellent trace. One of the best. I think Max is quite capable of standing on it. This person is unlikely to kick the bucket if he does. He’s very, very strong.”

  “Oh, is he indeed?” said Juffin. “Well, if you’re sure, then . . . Go on, Max. Try it.”

  “No problem,” I said, making my way over to Melamori.

  “Where’s the trace? Ah, here we go, you don’t have to tell me. Why did you say he was so powerful? I don’t sense anything of the sort. Now, the sister of Sir Atva Kuraisa, on the other hand, she was one tough cookie. Remember her?”

  “The problem is your oversized ego, boy,” said Juffin laughing. “Like any professional Master of Pursuit, Melamori evaluates the strength of the trace’s owner objectively. You, on the other hand, can only sense one thing: whether the owner is dangerous to you personally. Lady Tanna Kuraisa almost killed you, and you had a foreboding about it from the very beginning. That’s why you avoided her trace. This guy, however powerful he may be, doesn’t stand a chance against you, and that’s why you consider his trace to be innocuous. Maybe your approach is more practical than the traditional one. After all, the only thing that matters is staying alive. How powerful the opponent is may be irrelevant. You don’t have to be a Grand Magician to aim blindly from behind a corner and still manage to shoot your pursuer right between the eyes—just lucky. So I think you can safely go hunting. The sooner you track him down, the better. I know it’s not completely up to you, but please try not to kill the guy, okay? I’m eager to talk to him. Melamori, what are you waiting for? Go back to the living room and step on the trace of Ariama Junior. You’re on him now officially, since Max is having his premonitions.”

  I felt I couldn’t stay in one place. The sensation that I had begun to forget, pleasant and unbearable at the same time, made my feet move faster, and faster, and faster. I went back to the bathroom, then up the stairs. The trace, I soon realized, didn’t lead upstairs. It swerved behind the stairs and broke off at the wall.

  “Juffin,” I called out, puzzled. “I think there’s another secret door here. I could use your help.”

  Juffin examined the wall and shook his head.

  “No door here. He left through the Dark Path. Not a problem for an experienced Master of Pursuit, really. If you can’t figure it out, Melamori can follow him there.”

  “Right, but according to you, he poses no threat to me, and we don’t know whether Melamori can handle him. So I’d better try it myself. Just tell me what to do.”

  “Hmm. You don’t really need to do anything. Just stand here and wait for the trace to pull you. But you need to focus as hard as you can on your own feet. Imagine that you have nothing but your heels. Got it?”

  “Of course not,” I said. “But I’ll try.”

  Whoa! It was easier than I thought. The buzzing itch in my feet was so strong that I could think of nothing else. I seemed to have no choice.

  A
few minutes later I felt a cold wind blowing in my face. I opened my eyes and looked around.

  I stood on the Bridge of Kuluga Menonchi. A stupendous view of Jafax, the main Residence of the Order of the Seven-Leaf Clover, opened up before me. The trace was pulling me farther ahead. To my astonishment it ran up against the Secret Door of Jafax. The problem was that only the members of the Order of the Seven-Leaf Clover could use that door. Okay, so this is what it comes down to, I thought. The murderer’s in there, polishing the boots of Grand Magician Nuflin or attending to some matter of state, and then I show up, silly crime-snooper that I am. No, not a very clever idea. Not to mention that I can’t even go through the Secret Door, sealed with a curse by Grand Magician Nuflin Moni Mak himself. Even Juffin couldn’t squeeze through it. Although, come to think of it, Juffin probably could. I’d better call him for help. On second thought . . .

  Then it dawned on me. Why bother Juffin when I had a good chance to get help from the holy of holies of the place I was trying to get into? Lady Sotofa Xanemer, the most powerful woman of the Seven-Leaf Clover, was Juffin’s old girlfriend. And if I wasn’t mistaken, she had a soft spot for me, too. In any case, I decided to grab the chance and send her a call.

  Lady Sotofa, this is Max. I’m truly sorry, but I’m standing by your Secret Door now. Can you let me in?

  Oh, what’s happened, boy? Have you developed a passion for me and come to serenade me under the walls of Jafax? I strongly suspect you’re tone-deaf, so let’s leave well enough alone!

  Well, you read my heart all right! I laughed. But I have another piece of news. Bad news.

  “Just how bad is it?”

  Suddenly the smiling, pleasantly plump old woman was standing right beside me. Magicians only knew how she’d gotten there. Lady Sotofa laughed and gave me a hug. As usual, I was surprised by the warmth and cordiality of this powerful lady.

  She took my hand, told me to close my eyes, and walked on ahead of me. I stumbled behind. A few seconds later I felt the wet branches of a shott tree touching my face. I opened my eyes. We were standing in the beautiful garden of the Residence of the Order.

  “Where have you been for a year and a half? Since you returned from Kettari you haven’t shown as much as the tip of your nose in here.”

  “I haven’t,” I confessed. “I was too shy at first, and then—”

  “And then you slept for a year. I know. Well, what’s the bad news you were talking about?” said Lady Sotofa. “I doubt you were planning on kissing me by the light of the moon, which, by the way, just hid behind the clouds.”

  “I sure was!” I said. “But since there’s no moon, we can just talk. Drat, though, I’m still standing on this trace! If only I could step off it for a moment, so I could explain all this to you.”

  “Let’s do this: you keep following the trace—just don’t rush. I’ll walk right beside you, and you’ll tell me everything you want me to know on the way. Speaking of which, why are you on the trace of our Order to begin with? Is this a new policy of His Majesty King Gurig? I find it hard to believe. Times have changed.”

  I quickly told Lady Sotofa about the events of the evening. She listened, and then became very serious.

  “What a story! I’m glad you were smart enough to get in touch with me. I smell trouble with a capital T. You see, I’m absolutely sure that nobody here would soil his hands by killing that poor charlatan Ariama. Even if he did, why would a member of the Order of the Seven-Leaf Clover be covering his tracks? Our boys can get away with a lot more serious things.”

  “I’m sure they can!” I grinned. “Well, I hope we’ll soon find out the truth. I’m getting the sense that we’re almost there. You know how it is when a Master of Pursuit is closing in on the quarry.”

  “No, I haven’t the faintest notion about that,” said Lady Sotofa. “But I believe you.”

  “There,” I whispered, pointing at a dense bush. “He’s right there.”

  “Really?” said Lady Sotofa. “I’d like to know what a normal person would be doing, sitting in the bushes at night. There’s no shortage of restrooms in here. Let’s see . . . Oh, sinning Magicians! That’s none other than Senior Magician Jorinmuk Vansifis, the new favorite of our Nuflin. Just a run-of-the-mill wheedler, in my book, but Magician Nuflin knows best, of course. Is he sleeping?”

  “It’s worse,” I said gloomily. “Much worse, I’m afraid. Melamori overestimated his powers by a long shot. Or underestimated mine. I must have killed him. Juffin will bite off my head and spit it out in the Xuron. Mark my words.”

  “What if he does? Don’t fret, boy. He’s not dead; he fainted,” Lady Sotofa assured me. She cautiously pinched the neck of the bald man, dressed in the blue-and-white looxi of the Order of the Seven-Leaf Clover, who was lying on the ground. Then she frowned suddenly. “Wait! This isn’t Jorinmuk. He just looks a lot like him. I’d very much like to know what happened to the real Magician Jorinmuk. What a story!”

  “You will know,” I said, eager to demonstrate my gratitude. “I promise. As soon as we finish with this case, I’ll send you a call and tell you everything.”

  “You don’t have to. I prefer to think you’ll come round again, whining plaintively by the Secret Door, and that we’ll have a cup or two of kamra. Deal?”

  “It’s a deal. Thank you, Lady Sotofa!”

  “Wonderful. Now retrieve your quarry and take him to Juffin. The old fox will eat him alive, I’m sure. It’ll do him good, though. There must be some sunny days in the gloomy, monotonous life of the Venerable Head. Come on, I’ll show you the way out.”

  The poor victim of my newfound talent found himself between my thumb and index finger. Lady Sotofa took me gently by the elbow and led me nimbly along the path, invisible in the darkness. When we reached the wall, she stopped and looked at me.

  “How do you like your new heart, boy?”

  “I haven’t really felt the difference yet.”

  “No? That means the most interesting experience still lies ahead. You’ll find it very handy, trust me. The daughter of Loiso Pondoxo did you quite a service. You like her?”

  I nodded, embarrassed.

  “Funny,” said Lady Sotofa with a smile, revealing her charming dimples. “Who would have thought? Destiny is wiser than all of us, whatever people may think. But remember, boy, the children of Loiso Pondoxo are very different from ordinary people, even though you might not notice it immediately.”

  “I’m also very different from other people, don’t you think?”

  “You are,” said Lady Sotofa, “but . . . Anyway, nothing’s going to happen to you that you aren’t equal to. Now, off you go to that old fox Juffin. And don’t forget to visit me again sometime.”

  “I won’t,” I said. “And if I don’t come for a long time, it means that I’ve grown shy again. That happens to me.”

  “Don’t be silly,” said Lady Sotofa, laughing. “Shy of me? Of all the nonsense! Don’t you disappear again for a year and a half.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Well, good night, then.”

  And she pushed me gently on the back. Just like that I found myself standing on the other side of the impenetrable wall surrounding Jafax. I sent a call to Juffin.

  The mouse is in the trap, I said enigmatically. Can you send an amobiler for me? I’m standing by the wall of Jafax.

  What on earth were you doing there?

  I was flirting with Lady Sotofa but was rebuffed.

  Were you? I’m surprised she still has some prudence left in her. Fine, I won’t torture you with Silent Speech. We’ll talk back at the office. The amobiler will pick you up in about fifteen minutes.

  You should really let me give your drivers a master class. Fifteen minutes to drive here? I can walk faster!

  Don’t exaggerate. Walking will take at least half an hour.

  I made myself comfortable on the broad parapet of the Bridge of Kuluga Menonchi, lit up a cigarette, and began to wait. After a few moments of hesitation I sent
a call to Tekki. I was worried she might be asleep already but hoped that a short conversation with me wouldn’t be the worst thing that could happen to her.

  Are you in bed already?

  Not even close! I still have a ton of customers. Maybe they’re waiting for you to appear, I don’t know. They’re looking at me like I’m a freshly resuscitated vampire. I can imagine the rumors making the rounds of Echo now.

  How did the Echoers find out about it? Well, it’s all for the best. Now I know nobody will be coming on to you, and that’s cool.

  Nobody has come on to me for the past hundred years. You were an exception. Granted, you only demanded food. The rest of it I had to do myself.

  I’m working on that. I already have a long list of ways to come on to you. I’ll read it to you next time I see you.

  I’d like to believe it.

  You know, it’s not easy to deal with me. I may show up at the most inconvenient time. Tomorrow at dawn, for instance. Or earlier. Or later. Is that bad?

  Very bad. But I’ll manage.

  That’s what I wanted to hear. So kick out the remaining customers and go to sleep. Over and out.

  What?

  Over and out. It means goodbye. One of my bad habits. And it’s infectious. You’ll never be able to stop saying it now.

  I see. Over and out, then.

  I saw the bluish headlights of an amobiler flashing at the far end of the bridge. Soon the amobiler drove up and stopped.

  “Climb into the back seat, buddy,” I said to the driver. “I’m going to give you the ride of your life.”

  He got into the back seat, and three minutes later I stopped the amobiler by the House by the Bridge.

  On my way to Juffin’s office, in the Hall of Common Labor, I saw Melamori. She was attending to a sad-looking young man with a bandage on his head, urging him to drink some reviving kamra.