Authors: Max Frei,Polly Gannon
Tags: #Mystery & Detective, #Horror, #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Epic
The Stranger (76 page)
“Another happy belt-owner. He was about to slash me to pieces. But everything turned out all right in the end, as you see. I still don’t know how I managed. I witnessed a knife pierced my insides, after which I disappeared, and then suddenly I was there again—completely unharmed.”
“I know,” Juffin grinned. “You managed that trick very well. All the rest was pretty awful, though. You behaved like a child, Sir Max. Aren’t you ashamed?”
“Nah. I’m a fool, of course—but I always suspected it. I didn’t need any more proof.”
I recalled how I had frightened the stranger with my bawdy antics, and smiled involuntarily.
“Melifaro would have been amused, don’t you think?”
“I do think so,” Juffin said laughing. “But the way you followed him—that was a very poor performance. The fellow spotted you within a few seconds and made a beeline for the nearest populated area. I’m afraid it won’t be any easier to teach you the art of shadowing than it was to make a decent cook out of you. Turning you into a ghost was less difficult.”
“Juffin,” I asked cautiously. “Were you watching me the
whole
time?”
whole
time?”
“As though I have nothing better to do! I only came near when I smelled trouble. I wanted to help you, but you wriggled out of it somehow on your own. Do you remember how you did it?”
“Are you joking? I had no idea what was going on!”
“Naturally. That’s the misfortune of talented people, Max. You act first, and then you try to understand how it got you into trouble. We ordinary folks are much more reliable. All right then, let’s examine your discovery.”
“Shall I let him out?” I asked, getting ready.
“Wait, don’t make any rash decisions. First, tell me, what does he look like, this unsuccessful butcher of live meat? I was watching you, not him.”
I began describing the appearance of my companion from the Quarter of Trysts, but as I babbled away, bitter memories clutched at my heart again. I fell silent and stared dully at the floor.
“Excellent, Max!” Juffin held himself aloof from my worldly sorrow. “Do you know who you’ve captured? It’s the owner of the
Old Maid
himself—Mr. Agon in the flesh. Your famous luck is better than any amulet.”
Old Maid
himself—Mr. Agon in the flesh. Your famous luck is better than any amulet.”
“Great,” I said morosely. “You can tear me to pieces and dole me out to the poor and suffering. I won’t object. So what should I do with him now? Keep him as a memento of a wonderful night?”
“That’s not such a bad idea. I suspect that Mr. Agon is closer than anyone to solving the unpleasant mystery of these foolish belts. Among the other bans placed on him by the owner of the belt is no doubt the prohibition against having anything to do with the authorities. Once he’s in the House by the Bridge, he’s bound to die. We simply won’t be able to save him.”
“And if I do what I did yesterday?” I suggested. “I’ll share the pain with him, and he’s sure to survive!”
“Would you really agree to that? I wouldn’t advise it.”
I shrugged.
“What else can we do? Besides, I’ve never felt as bold as I do today.
Carpe diem
!”
Carpe diem
!”
“That’s all I need,” the boss muttered. “To bury you while saving this worthy son of the distant south. No, today we’ll be wiser. We’ll go to Jafax. The women of the Seven-Leaf Clover will think of something. All the more since we’re making efforts for their boss.”
“For Magician Nuflin? Wait, Juffin—are there really women in the Seven-Leaf Clover?”
“Whatever made you think that there weren’t?” Juffin asked. “There are more women than men. That was the case in all the other Orders, as well. Didn’t you know?”
“How could I have known? I’ve never seen any of them. And all the Grand Magicians I’ve heard about are men.”
“Yes, I suppose so. But, you see, women are inclined to secrecy. When they enter the Order, they break their ties with the world so effectively that it’s almost impossible to have any contact with them. There are quite powerful personages among them, but no one has been able to persuade them to accept an important office. They claim that it would ‘distract them from the most important things.’ In a way, they’re right. You’ll see for yourself when we get there.”
“But what does Magician Nuflin have to do with this?” I asked as I settled behind the levers of the amobiler. “You said we were doing this for him.”
“Where is your renowned intuition, Max? You can figure it out. The young man who became a captive of the mysterious belt stole the copy of the Shining Seven-Leaf Clover, which is only good for a souvenir. Now people are appearing in Echo again with similar belts. What do you think they might want?”
“Magician Nuflin’s real amulet?”
“Congratulations, you hit the nail on the head!”
“I wonder how they intend to pilfer that little trinket from Jafax?”
“It’s very simple. If they managed to put the same kind of belt on Nuflin, he’d give them anything they wanted.”
“How could they foist something like that on the Grand Magician himself? That’s impossible, Juffin.”
“Well, it would probably be hard to get it on Nuflin himself. But that’s not really necessary. There are many people in the Order of the Seven-Leaf Clover, and there are secret passageways connecting Jafax with Echo—like our House by the Bridge, for instance. It would be enough to fasten a belt like that on one of our messengers for him to dive into hell and bring out a bunch of Dark Magicians, not to mention the Shining Seven-Leaf Clover. If he’s lucky, of course. But people sometimes are! In short, lad, someone who had the wits to forge those belts would be fully capable of clinching a deal like that. I know I could.”
“You, Juffin?”
“Among the Mutinous Magicians were young men who were much more sharp-witted than I was. What they weren’t smart enough to do was to take a critical view of foolish superstitions.”
“So you think there is some Mutinous Magician behind all of this?”
“Of course. Who else do you think would need the blasted amulet? Unless it were a jeweler—but there are many more valuable things in the World. We’re here, Max, don’t you see?”
“Oh, yes. I didn’t even notice. It’s neither dawn nor dusk, though. How will we pass into Jafax?”
“Through the Secret Door. It’s the only way of reaching the women of the Seven-Leaf Clover.”
Juffin climbed out of the amobiler and I followed behind him. The boss walked along a high dark wall, then stopped and slapped his palm hard against a slightly protruding greenish stone.
“Follow me, boy. Better close your eyes—it will steady your nerves.”
Without looking back at me, the boss began walking directly into the rock.
There was no time to think. I closed my eyes obediently and plunged after him. My muscles tensed instinctively, bracing in anticipation of a blow. But none was forthcoming. A moment later, Sir Juffin intercepted me, my body still poised to ward off obstacles in a fierce struggle.
“Where did you think you were going, Max?” he asked gaily. “We’re here. Open your eyes now if you don’t believe me.”
I looked around. We were standing in the middle of the thick undergrowth of an ancient overgrown garden.
“Good day, Juffin. How’s the earth treating you, you old fox?”
A vibrant voice resonated from behind my back. I shuddered and turned around. The voice was coming from someone who resembled the fairytale ideal of a grandmother: a shortish, plump lady with silver hair and a benevolent smile, and cheeks graced charming dimples.
“What a fine boy, Juffin!” she said, looking me up and down with undisguised admiration. “Are you Sir Max, dear? Welcome!”
The old lady embraced me with unexpected affection. I felt I had returned home after a long absence.
“This is Lady Sotofa Xanemer, Max,” the chief said. “She’s the most frightening creature in the Universe, so be on your guard.”
“No more frightening than you are, Juffin,” Lady Sotofa laughed. “Let’s go, gentlemen. You and Nuflin have some problems on your hands, Juffin. That’s for sure. And you must come with me and have something to eat, my dear,” she added for my benefit.
“What a good idea,” Juffin said drily.
“No matter what, you’re always ready to eat,” she remarked to Juffin. “I know you. But I love you all the same. Where have you been lately? You stopped visiting me. Maybe you think you bore me? Well, listen here, you old coot. You are tiresome, but my heart goes its own way, and it’s always glad to see you. And one must listen to one’s heart.”
Lady Sotofa scurried ahead, showing us the way and looking back now and then with a comical expression to illustrate her running commentary. Her little hands gestured wildly, her looxi fluttered in the breeze, and her dimples became ever more pronounced. I simply couldn’t credit her with great magical powers, however hard I tried.
Finally we arrived at a cozy garden pavilion that seemed to serve as Lady Sotofa’s office. There we were greeted by another sweet lady, somewhat younger than Lady Sotofa. With age she promised to become an exact replica of her elder associate. She already had the soft plumpness and the charming dimples.
“Oh, Sotofa! You’re always entertaining men! Don’t you want to take a rest?”
Her laughter rang out like tinkling bells.
“Of course I entertain them, Reniva. Don’t you remember? We agreed that I’d bring the menfolk around, but you would feed them. Now scoot! Off to the kitchen with you! The silly youngsters that pass as our chefs will never be able to cook as well as you can.”
“Are you suggesting that the food should be tasty?” Lady Reniva asked, arching her brows. “I thought men didn’t care what they ate as long as it filled their bellies. Fine, I’ll feed your swains, but you’ll have to reckon with them in the meantime.”
She disappeared behind a partition, and the three of us were alone.
“Well, Sir Max, were you frightened?” Lady Sotofa giggled. “Did you think that this daft Juffin had brought you here to see some crazy old biddies? You don’t have to reply. I can see in your eyes that that’s what you thought. Well, give me your fist. Come on, come on—don’t be timid.”
I stared at Juffin in confusion. He looked at me sternly, and nodded. I extended my sweaty left hand to Sotofa, the one in which Mr. Agon, the no-good Tasherian merchant, had been languishing for the last dozen hours. The merry old lady stroked my fingers cautiously, lingered a moment, frowned, and then broke into a smile again, displaying her enchanting dimples.
“Easy as pie, Juffin! I’m surprised you didn’t manage to do it.”
“You know I could have,” the Venerable Head of the Secret Investigative Force muttered. “It’s just that everything comes to you so naturally.”
Lady Sotofa shook her head reproachfully and applied a sudden sharp pressure at the base of my palm. I yelped in surprise and pain, and opened my fingers. The unfortunate merchant tumbled onto the carpet, and Lady Sotofa triumphantly displayed the marvelous mother-of-pearl belt, which, by some miracle, she was left holding.
“There you are, Juffin! Are you starting to regret that nature has rewarded you with this old crone you’re still so proud of?”
“Don’t exaggerate, my lady,” he murmured. “I still have a few tricks up my sleeve you haven’t yet learned.”
“What do I need those for? Your tricks don’t put bread on the table.” She turned to me, “How did you like that, my dear?”
I nodded in astonishment and stared at my recent captive.
“Is he alive, Lady Sotofa?”
She waved her hand with a flippant air.
“Why wouldn’t he be? I could revive him right now, but it makes more sense to do it just before you leave. I don’t intend to feed this blockhead, and if we eat while he looks on—well, it wouldn’t be very polite, would it?”
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