Things were falling into place in my life. I didn’t dare count on more. For the time being, it was enough.
It took me three days to realize that none of my colleagues liked cigars. Only Lady Melamori was daring enough to try one, but it was pure bravado. Her face didn’t show a trace of pleasure, just undiluted determination. I stuffed the box in the desk drawer. I had one vague hope left—that General Boboota would recover.
He had to be good for something, that big meanie! He’d look great with a cigar stuck in his mouth. And these were the biggest worries I had, Magicians be praised!
“You’re still not missing a dose of daily marvels?” Sir Juffin asked innocently on about the fourth day after my return.
“Not at all,” I said. “Has something happened?”
“Well, the marvels have been missing you,” Juffin said, with a grin. “I was just wondering whether you’d want to keep me company. I’m thinking of visiting Maba.”
“What a question! Of course I do!”
This time Maba Kalox met us in the hall.
“I think today we might sit in another room,” he remarked casually. “You have no objection to a little variety, do you?”
Wandering rather aimlessly through the corridors (I got the impression that Sir Maba himself wasn’t entirely sure which door led to this ‘other room’), we finally settled ourselves in a small chamber that resembled a bedroom more than a living room, though I didn’t see a bed.
“Mackie’s spoiling you, Max,” our cordial host said, pulling out a tray with some strange dishes from under the small table. “He’s sent you enough of those smoking sticks to last you the rest of your life. You’ve probably even stopped practicing.”
“No, not at all,” I said. “It’s such a good way to economize on food. No need to spend money shopping—I just stick my hand somewhere, and presto! You’re not the only one who loves money. Do you know how greedy I am?”
“I suspected you were,” Sir Maba said. “Is this true, Juffin?”
“And how! You know what he sometimes eats? Some strange little sausage hidden inside a big bun. It’s disgusting. And he enjoys it!”
“I’ve adored hot dogs my whole life.” I was already tired of this subject. “The consequences of a deprived childhood, and all that. And look who’s talking! That Kettarian ‘delicacy’ of yours . . .”
“I’ve got your numbers, boys,” Maba said. “You’re so much alike sometimes, it’s just unbelievable. You know, Max, Juffin thinks that you’ve seen through his little trick, so . . . Well, so now you might be a bit angry with us.”
“No way!” I exclaimed. “I’m already used to people making a fool of me, so don’t worry!”
Sir Maba stood up and went over to the window.
“We’re not worried. Come over here and take a look.”
I went over to the window and froze. It didn’t look out onto the garden at all, but onto a very familiar street. Dumbfounded, I stared at the yellow paving stones, then raised my eyes. A small fountain played merrily, sending its multihued spray into the sky.
“High Street?” I asked hoarsely. “Is it Kettari?”
“Well, at least it’s not the border of the County Vook,” Juffin replied cheerfully behind me.
“Only, don’t tell your friend Old Mackie about this window. Agreed?”
Sir Maba Kalox winked at me.
“He doesn’t have to worry. Fierce old Juffin isn’t planning to climb through it.” And Sir Maba lightly tapped his nose with the forefinger of his right hand.
Two good people can always come to an understanding. There’s no denying it.