The Stranger (45 page)
Authors: Max Frei,Polly Gannon
Tags: #Mystery & Detective, #Horror, #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Epic
“No, but I’m planning on moving there soon,” Melifaro informed her in a confidential tone. “Please go on, my lady.”
The lady blushed with pleasure. I could hardly keep from laughing aloud, though it would have been quite awkward if I had lost my composure. The lady would no doubt have refused to give a deposition until they had me strung up and quartered—all the more since my Mantle of Death reduced any hypothetical manly charms to zero.
“I left home despite the premonition. And it hadn’t misled me. I had not gone a block when some horrible barbarian came around the corner wearing a disgusting, dirty looxi with sleeves, and dreadful-looking trousers. And the boor was swaying back and forth! I had never seen such a drunk man—well, with the exception of my cousin James, whom I once found in a similar condition. But that was well before the Code Epoch, so Cousin James can be forgiven. But this drunken scoundrel started waving a knife around at me. He even slashed my new skaba, which I bought only yesterday at Dirolan’s! You can imagine how much it cost. I can’t stand men like that, so I gave him a punch in the nose before I really got frightened. He hissed some strange words at me. ‘Who-are, who-are!’ At first I thought he had the impudence to ask me who I was. But then he hissed ‘Old-who-are!’ and ran away, so I think it must be some primitive barbarian curse. I went home to change and sent a call to Hadley so she wouldn’t be angry that I was late, and I explained the reason I had been delayed. Hadley said that it might be the murderer they wrote about in the
Echo Hustle and Bustle
, and that truly frightened me. And she advised me to come to you—well, not to you personally, Sir Hully, but to the House by the Bridge. Then I hailed an amobiler and hurried over here. That’s all there is to tell. Do you think it might be the same killer? But he was such a weakling! I can’t understand why those poor women couldn’t wrestle him down. Just one punch was all it took.”
Echo Hustle and Bustle
, and that truly frightened me. And she advised me to come to you—well, not to you personally, Sir Hully, but to the House by the Bridge. Then I hailed an amobiler and hurried over here. That’s all there is to tell. Do you think it might be the same killer? But he was such a weakling! I can’t understand why those poor women couldn’t wrestle him down. Just one punch was all it took.”
“Thank you, Lady Chadsy,” Juffin announced ceremoniously. “I think your courage has saved not only your own, but many other lives, as well. And now, you may go home. I regret that our meeting was so short, but it is our duty to find the culprit who insulted you as soon as we are able.”
“You will find him, gentlemen. Of that I am certain!”
The lady made her exit, swaying her hips gracefully, and now and then casting sultry glances at us over her shoulder. Melifaro, the lucky man, received such a passionate parting smile that he nearly crashed to the floor under the weight of it. When Lady Chadsy had finally disappeared from sight, the poor guy rolled his eyes heavenward.
“Sinning Magicians, what did I do to deserve such punishment?”
“Well, if worse comes to worst, you’re guaranteed a position as a salesman at Dirolan’s,” Juffin said with a grin. “Max, have you remembered how you differ from ‘normal people,’ to use the terminology of this poor man?”
I shrugged, and drank the rest of the cold kamra. I differed from “normal people” in many ways, especially just now. I would have to try to discern how all my former compatriots differed from my present ones, but the amusing episode with Boboota and the heart-wrenching confession of Lady Chadsy distracted me from my thoughts on the matter.
“Here I am!” Sir Kofa Yox beamed at us with the complacent smile of a man with a full stomach. “I’m sorry I’m late. I was detained by a very amusing incident. I was just going into the
Old Thorn
when your call came, Juffin.”
Old Thorn
when your call came, Juffin.”
I leaped up and knocked over my chair. The mug, blessedly empty, clattered to the floor.
“What an idiot I am!” I cried. “How could I have forgotten! The Soup of Repose! Remember what happened to me, Juffin? Of course he was swaying back and forth on his feet! He sure must have been! Of course, it was my countryman. The guy tried the soup! No more murders for him!”
“Well, that’s that,” Juffin sighed in relief. “Our troubles are over. Though we have nothing to be proud of. We’re just lucky. Theoretically, the killer could have wandered around Echo forever, eating something else.”
“What happened when you ate the soup?” Melifaro asked, perplexed. “I don’t quite get the connection, gentlemen.”
“Max can’t eat Soup of Repose,” Juffin explained. “But don’t even think about joking about it, son. It affects him like poison. He was knocked out flat for three days after eating a bowlful, and I was powerless to help.”
“Poor guy,” Melifaro said sympathetically. “That’s why you’re so overwrought all the time. As though Lonli-Lokli were sitting on your backside. You’re really missing out, mate.”
“I hope it’s the worst loss I experience,” I said indifferently. “I can get along fine without the soup.”
“Everything makes sense to me now,” Sir Kofa announced suddenly. “You can send Lonli-Lokli to the
Old Thorn.
The killer’s there. He’s the reason I was late.”
Old Thorn.
The killer’s there. He’s the reason I was late.”
“I’ll go myself.” Melifaro jumped up and made it to the doorway in a single bound. “You can’t just kill a miracle of nature like that! Moreover, the Master Who Snuffs Out Unnecessary Smiles is busy with my paperwork. It would be a sin to deprive him of the pleasure.”
“We’ll go together,” said Juffin and stood up. “I’m curious, too, not to mention Max, who simply must exchange greetings with his compatriot. And Sir Kofa has full right to his portion of the laurels.”
Frankly speaking, I wasn’t especially eager to accompany them. I would have to encounter a person who had traveled the same road I had, through the Door between Worlds, to use Juffin’s terminology. If it were up to me, I would have postponed the meeting. But no one thought to ask me.
They put me behind the levers of the amobiler—we had some distance to go, and time was short. Along the way, Sir Kofa recounted his experiences.
“Just after midday, a strange fellow entered the
Thorn.
As everyone knows, Mr. Chemparkaroke adores oddities. The stranger, the better—that’s his motto. Chemparkaroke is still just as curious as the day he arrived in Echo for the first time from the island of Murimax. Anyway, the visitor made his entrance by shouting out something from the doorway: ‘All women are . . .’ something or other. A hole in the heavens above, I can’t remember for the life of me.”
Thorn.
As everyone knows, Mr. Chemparkaroke adores oddities. The stranger, the better—that’s his motto. Chemparkaroke is still just as curious as the day he arrived in Echo for the first time from the island of Murimax. Anyway, the visitor made his entrance by shouting out something from the doorway: ‘All women are . . .’ something or other. A hole in the heavens above, I can’t remember for the life of me.”
“Whores,” I prompted. “He probably said ‘all women are whores.’”
“That’s it, Sir Max! You’re not a medium, by any chance?”
“No, it’s just that maniacs like this guy usually get fixated on one idea or phrase, and they keep repeating it over and over. He said the same thing to the red-headed lady. He called her an ‘old whore.’”
“What does it mean?” Melifaro wanted to know.
“Nothing, really. Something like ‘bad woman.’ Or, let’s say, ‘very bad, depraved woman.’”
When he heard my translation, Melifaro colored deeply. But I thought it necessary to continue my lecture.
“Guys like that always bear grudges against women—against all of them without exception, or just against blondes, or plump ones, or tall ones. It all depends.”
“Let’s not get sidetracked, here,” Juffin grumbled. “Let Kofa have his say.”
“Chemparkaroke was in ecstasy over this incomprehensible word. So he agreed with his guest out of politeness. The guy asked whether Chemparkaroke had anything to relieve his suffering. The innkeeper concluded that the visitor wanted to taste some of his legendary soup. He poured him some of the most potent stuff. At first the visitor didn’t want to eat it, but Chemparkaroke swore on his mother’s grave that it was the best cure for suffering. So the fellow tasted it. He liked it. Did he ever like it! Chemparkaroke claims that he had never witnessed such unequivocal enthusiasm about his homemade soup. When the visitor had finished, he fled. Chemparkaroke realized that the fellow had no money and didn’t know that the King picked up all tabs for the hungry in Echo. Visitors are often unaware of this, and so end up getting into scrapes. Chemparkaroke was used to it. He was happy with the new acquisition for his ‘oddball collection’ and returned to his innkeeping tasks.
“An hour later, his newfound friend came back. Chemparkaroke noticed that he was shuffling his feet uncertainly in the doorway, and shouted to him to come in, since he wasn’t obliged to pay for anything if he didn’t have the money. Then he served him some more soup. The fellow kept muttering about ‘relieving his suffering. ’ By the time I dropped in to the
Old Thorn
, curiosity-seekers were already gathering. Chemparkaroke was doing a brisk business, so his generosity was rewarded tenfold. And people got what they were looking for. Something extraordinary was happening to the visitor. After the second bowl of soup, he began to babble, and after the third, he broke into the most enigmatic dance I’ve ever seen. It was probably some kind of folk dance. Then he dozed off, and I thought he was there for the long haul, since he was in no condition to leave. Chemparkaroke promised to keep an eye on him, because by then it had occurred to me that this strange bird could well be one of your clients. I even started to wonder—is he really a human being? But what didn’t occur to me was to recall Chemparkaroke’s story about how you, Juffin, dragged this poor boy into the
Thorn
one day.”
Old Thorn
, curiosity-seekers were already gathering. Chemparkaroke was doing a brisk business, so his generosity was rewarded tenfold. And people got what they were looking for. Something extraordinary was happening to the visitor. After the second bowl of soup, he began to babble, and after the third, he broke into the most enigmatic dance I’ve ever seen. It was probably some kind of folk dance. Then he dozed off, and I thought he was there for the long haul, since he was in no condition to leave. Chemparkaroke promised to keep an eye on him, because by then it had occurred to me that this strange bird could well be one of your clients. I even started to wonder—is he really a human being? But what didn’t occur to me was to recall Chemparkaroke’s story about how you, Juffin, dragged this poor boy into the
Thorn
one day.”
The “poor boy,” of course, was me. Juffin sighed penitently, remembering his recent blunder.
At the threshold the
Old Thorn
I winced. It was no doubt a great place, but my digestive system refused to agree with that opinion, and a feeling of nausea hit me the moment I entered. The
Thorn
was so packed that it looked as though the entire citizenry of Echo had received a Day of Freedom from Care at the same time. When our rather intimidating posse entered the tavern, the patrons slowly began to disperse. The red-haired Chemparkaroke assumed a knowing expression and began wiping off the already spotless dishes.
Old Thorn
I winced. It was no doubt a great place, but my digestive system refused to agree with that opinion, and a feeling of nausea hit me the moment I entered. The
Thorn
was so packed that it looked as though the entire citizenry of Echo had received a Day of Freedom from Care at the same time. When our rather intimidating posse entered the tavern, the patrons slowly began to disperse. The red-haired Chemparkaroke assumed a knowing expression and began wiping off the already spotless dishes.
My countryman was asleep on a broad wooden bench. Luckily, he didn’t seem to be one of my childhood friends. That would have been too much. As for his age, he could have been my father—or perhaps the pressure of being a maniac had aged him before his time. This guy looked ghastly—a dirty raincoat, wrinkled trousers, week-old stubble, dark circles under his eyes . . . poor thing. Moreover, he had clearly overindulged in Soup of Repose
.
His ragged breathing was not a sign of physical well-being. If he had died right then and there, it wouldn’t have surprise me. It looked like that’s where things were heading.
.
His ragged breathing was not a sign of physical well-being. If he had died right then and there, it wouldn’t have surprise me. It looked like that’s where things were heading.
Juffin sniffed fastidiously.
“We’ve spent a whole day looking for this . . . this natural phenomenon? Ugh, how unattractive! Take him, Max, and get him out of here. Chemparkaroke, do you have anything to add to Sir Yox’s story?”
The good-natured redhead shook his head:
“What’s there to add, Sir Venerable Head? An ugly affair. At first he was so funny. Then he started to snore, to moan, to chase an invisible person around the tavern. The customers were amused. People love a clown, even a sick one. But then he fell on the bench and went to sleep. Only I think that soon he’ll be chatting with the Dark Magicians. I often get a hunch about things like that. If you give him something to drink, his legs will start twitching, and it’ll be all over.”
“Thanks for the good news, old boy. I’m all for it,” Sir Juffin muttered. “Good work, Chemparkaroke.”
The innkeeper was flattered, but he clearly didn’t understand why he was being praised. Juffin looked at him wearily.
“Take him, Max. What are you waiting for? He’s not going to dance anymore, that’s for sure.”
I sighed and did the usual prestidigitation with my left hand. The half-dead maniac fit comfortably between my thumb and my forefinger. Chemparkaroke’s jaw dropped. He had arrived in Echo during the height of the Code Epoch and was unaccustomed even to small wonders. I frowned in distaste, and we left. I even had to drive the amobiler holding this fistful of iniquity.
In the Hall of Common Labor I was able to rid myself of this unpleasant burden, depositing my countryman right on the rug.
Then I went to wash my hands. I’m a typical neurotic, so things like this can easily knock me off course. And I really didn’t like this maniac. It was probably because we had too much in common. At the same time, his appearance was extraordinarily repellant to me. I steeled myself and plunged back into the fray.
“Should I bring him back to his senses?” Sir Juffin Hully pondered aloud, staring at our quarry with unconcealed disgust. “It would be a lot of fuss and bother, but I’d like to know.”
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