The Stranger (69 page)
Authors: Max Frei,Polly Gannon
Tags: #Mystery & Detective, #Horror, #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Epic
“Enjoy life? You’re making fun of me, Kofa. After tonight I’ll never be able to look at food again.”
“You’re in for a surprise. Now I’m going to reveal to you the oldest secret of Old Cuisine.”
“No!” I grimaced and shook my head. “With all due respect, Kofa, I refuse.”
“Never indulge in hasty decisions. You don’t know what’s in store for you yet. Don’t worry, Max. I’m not going to feed you, but cure you of your culinary overindulgence. Honest.”
“In that case—onward!” I exclaimed happily. “If I’ve ever needed a cure like that, now’s the time.”
And with that we left the
Irrashi Coat of Arms.
Irrashi Coat of Arms.
“If you ever overeat like this again, you must go to the
Empty Bowl
,” Sir Kofa informed me. “Remember this address, friend: 36 Street of Reconciliation. I have a feeling you’ll be coming here often.”
Empty Bowl
,” Sir Kofa informed me. “Remember this address, friend: 36 Street of Reconciliation. I have a feeling you’ll be coming here often.”
The
Empty Bowl
was full of people, but they worked fast there! In just a few minutes a cook with a small cart came up to us. He rattled the bottles and vials with the concentration of an experienced pharmacist. I looked at the cart. Sinning Magicians! I almost threw up. The fellow drew out of a jar what looked like a huge piece of soft, greenish bacon grease and placed it on a tiny brazier. A minute later he poured the turbid, runny fat into a tall colored glass. He then plopped the second piece of fat onto the brazier. I shuddered, swallowed back some of my own saliva, and turned away. Sir Kofa took the glass calmly and emptied it down, without so much as wincing.
Empty Bowl
was full of people, but they worked fast there! In just a few minutes a cook with a small cart came up to us. He rattled the bottles and vials with the concentration of an experienced pharmacist. I looked at the cart. Sinning Magicians! I almost threw up. The fellow drew out of a jar what looked like a huge piece of soft, greenish bacon grease and placed it on a tiny brazier. A minute later he poured the turbid, runny fat into a tall colored glass. He then plopped the second piece of fat onto the brazier. I shuddered, swallowed back some of my own saliva, and turned away. Sir Kofa took the glass calmly and emptied it down, without so much as wincing.
“It’s not as bad as it looks, boy. Drink up. I’m not joking—I want to help you. Some hero you are! Well, sniff it, at least.”
I sniffed it obediently. The smell was not in the least nauseating. On the contrary, a pleasant menthol scent tickled my nostrils. I sighed and gulped down the terrible looking stuff. It wasn’t so bad. Not bad at all, in fact. It was like drinking a glass of mint liqueur, diluted with water.
“Well, how did you like it?” Sir Kofa asked in concern. “You certainly are impressionable. I would never have expected it. Fine, let’s go. For your information, it’s called
River Rat Bone Marrow
. A strange name, of course. Remember it, though—it’ll come in handy.”
River Rat Bone Marrow
. A strange name, of course. Remember it, though—it’ll come in handy.”
When we were outside again, Sir Kofa studied me attentively.
“Are you sure you’re not hungry, Max? We can stop into a few more places . . .”
“Magicians be with you, Kofa! I don’t even want to think about it!”
“Well, suit yourself. Now then, run along to the Ministry. It will be morning soon, anyway. Don’t forget to take Kurush the snacks you promised him. He’s earned them.”
“Of course. Thanks for the experience. It’s a night I won’t soon forget.”
“That’s the spirit. Good night, Max.”
On the way to the Ministry, I carried out my promise, stopping by the
Glutton
to pick up a dozen pastries. Kurush wouldn’t be able to eat all that—but it’s no sin to skip out on work and then try to make up for it later.
Glutton
to pick up a dozen pastries. Kurush wouldn’t be able to eat all that—but it’s no sin to skip out on work and then try to make up for it later.
The delicious aroma of freshly baked pastry made me think it wouldn’t be a bad idea to have a little bite to eat myself. Sinning Magicians, was I crazy? How could I eat after a night like that?
Kurush was delighted, and he started right in on them. I changed into the Mantle of Death and went to look at myself in the mirror. What a bizarre sight! My own features could already be made out under the unattractive false face. I had two distinct faces, one showing through the other. I shuddered and went downstairs to wash up. On the way back I glanced in the mirror again. Finally! There was my trusty old mug looking back at me. I wanted to cry with relief. I was, after all, quite a guy. It’s a matter of taste, of course, but it was a face that agreed with me.
I went back to the office. Kurush had just finished the fourth pastry, but his enthusiasm was flagging. I looked at the bird enviously, and—well, I ended up eating five whole pastries myself! I really had worked up an appetite already. That
River Rat Bone Marrow
was a devil of a concoction. Wonder of wonders, I felt I hadn’t eaten in days.
River Rat Bone Marrow
was a devil of a concoction. Wonder of wonders, I felt I hadn’t eaten in days.
At home I dreamed of Melamori again. The invisible wall dividing us disappeared all at once, and she sat down next to me. She was amused by my immobility. Not only was she amused, but it made her very brave. I was showered with kisses, such real ones that it almost made me start thinking that . . . But my poor brain didn’t want to think at all, and then she disappeared. And I woke up.
Melamori always disappeared from my dreams at about the same time, just after dawn—the time people wake up to go to work. But I tried not to pay attention to this coincidence. Once I get hold of something, I’ll hold onto it for dear life, even if it’s only a dream, and in my case, especially if it is a dream.
Not long before noon I dozed off again to the deep, guttural purrs of my cats. Almost immediately, I got a call from Sir Kofa.
Enough lounging around, Max. Something very interesting is happening here, so—
Time to eat again?
I asked, horrified.
I asked, horrified.
No, time to work. Remember those clowns with the belts?
And how I do! Oh, Kofa, do I have an hour, at least? To wash.
What a squeaky clean rascal you are! Fine, go hose yourself down. But we’ll be expecting you in an hour.
I jumped out of bed. Armstrong was so deep in sleep he didn’t twitch an ear. Ella woke up with a diminutive feline roar and rushed down to her bowl. After feeding the cats and bathing, it turned out that I had no time to replenish my tobacco supply with my pillow prestidigitation. It’s a good thing I hoard things like a squirrel: I had hidden away several cigarette stubs for a rainy day. Like today.
The Hall of Common Labor was swarming with chefs again. I gave Melifaro a sympathetic nod, and continued through to our office. An unrecognizable Sir Kofa Yox (curly haired, ruddy faced, large eyes) was whispering to Juffin. When he saw me he fell silent.
“Secrets?” I inquired. “Dreadful ones? Or not very?”
“Somewhere in between,” Juffin said. “How’s your stomach, hero? Are the city toilets running over after your busy night?”
“Are you trying to compensate for the absence of General Boboota? That’s not your forte, Juffin. Moreover, Boboota’s irreplaceable.”
“Well, just take a little walk to the morgue and back. It’s bound to be an instructive excursion. We’ll just finish up our secret-swapping session while you’re gone—and don’t let your nose get out of joint. In fact, these are secrets of Grand Magician Nuflin. Not very exciting.”
I dutifully set out for the morgue, which was located on the premises of the Echo City Police. Sinning Magicians, I sure hadn’t expect everything be this simple! There lay the fellow we had seen yesterday in the elegant yellow looxi. Only now his belt was gone. Was it murder with the intent to rob? Not the most popular kind of crime in Echo. I twirled my magic dagger in my fingers. The gauge didn’t budge. No Forbidden Magic around here. But if Juffin wanted me to see it, there must have been some foul magic involved. What kind, though? For one thing, there was no blood nor any trace of violence. Had he been poisoned? No. If this were just about “murder with the intent to rob,” Juffin wouldn’t have been summoned in the first place
I looked at the dead man one more time. There was something about him . . . something very obvious that still eluded my grasp.
I went back to the office without having figured it out. Preoccupied with heavy thoughts, I bumped right into Shixola, the former lieutenant of the City Police. After the remarkable rescue of Boboota, Shixola had been promoted to captain, which (unlike most of his colleagues) he richly deserved.
The fellow reeled, but stood his ground.
“Did you come to admire our discovery, sir?” asked the unfortunate victim of my absentmindedness, rubbing his bruised chin.
“Yes. There’s something not quite right about your discovery,” I said and looked at Shixola thoughtfully.
“I agree. There must be. First Sir Kofa came by, then Sir Venerable Head himself graced us with his presence, and now you arrive. This ragamuffin is really running you ragged.”
“Ragamuffin . . . ?”
The expensive yellow looxi and the fancy boots of the dead man seemed very much at odds with that description. Then it dawned on me. Underneath this expensive looxi the man was wearing the old, tattered skaba I had glimpsed yesterday. It looked as though the fellow hadn’t changed it for years. This glaring contrast seemed significant.
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