The Stranger (88 page)
Authors: Max Frei,Polly Gannon
Tags: #Mystery & Detective, #Horror, #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Epic
Actually, a few seconds later I decided that the joke might lead to unpredictable consequences, and I turned guiltily to my companion.
“Just between us guys, Glamma, it was a joke. It’s just a harmless expression.”
“That’s what I thought. But you’re not a guy, Marilyn. I’d advise you to watch your language.”
“Yes, my dear. You’re absolutely right.”
I began to suspect that a journey in the company of Lonli-Lokli would do more to hone my character than the severest pedagogical system of ancient Sparta.
My spirits finally lifted when I caught sight of at least a dozen amobilers accompanied by group of people in elegant traveling attire. When I was a child, I had always loved going to railroad stations to watch trains. It seemed to me they were going somewhere where everything was different from where I was. They were on their way
There
, and I envied the passengers as they wearily arranged their baggage in the overhead luggage racks. You could see the enchanting spectacle through the illuminated windows of the train while you stood on the platform. I preferred not to pay too much attention to the trains coming from
There
to the dreary
Here
.
There
, and I envied the passengers as they wearily arranged their baggage in the overhead luggage racks. You could see the enchanting spectacle through the illuminated windows of the train while you stood on the platform. I preferred not to pay too much attention to the trains coming from
There
to the dreary
Here
.
Now I had the same feeling, only much stronger. Not a vague dream about a nonexistent wonder, but a near certainty about it. I even temporarily forgot that Echo was not at all the kind of place I wanted to leave. Comfortably wrapped in the elegant body of Lady Marilyn, I dove into the small human maelstrom, Sir Shurf Lonli-Lokli following close behind.
In a few minutes, Lady Marilyn and her solicitous companion by the name of Glamma had already made the acquaintance of Abora Vala, Master of the Caravan—a short, gray-haired, but not at all old Kettarian, extremely charming despite his sly little eyes. We immediately paid eight crowns, half the cost of his services. The rest of the money was to be paid on the central square of the City of Kettari at the end of the journey. We were assured that the return trip to Echo would be free of charge.
There was another half hour of polite mutual sniffing out and exchanging names among fellow travelers, all of which I immediately forgot in the confusion of the moment. My Lady Marilyn behaved beautifully, not making a single gender blunder and answering consistently to her own name. Finally Mr. Vala called for everyone’s attention.
“I think we are all here, ladies and gentlemen. Let us depart. I’ll take the lead. I hope you’ll approve of the places I choose to stop and rest. I have a great deal of experience in this matter, you may be sure. If you run into trouble of any kind, just send me a call. I don’t recommend that you stray from the caravan, but if you get left behind, please don’t demand your money back. I hope, of course, that our journey will progress without any untoward events or unpleasant circumstances. Bon voyage, ladies and gentlemen!”
We all dispersed to our amobilers. I must admit I was even glad that Lonli-Lokli hadn’t allowed me to take the driver’s seat yet. It gave me the chance to admire the mosaic-laden pavement and the low buildings of Echo.
I had grown to love this city so much that the impending departure made me happy—I was already looking forward to the poignant joy of returning.
We passed through the enormous, lush gardens of the outskirts, which finally gave way to fields and woods. I was dizzy with all the new sights. Sir Shurf stared silently at the road in front of him. Even after he had become Sir Glamma Eralga, he was the most dispassionate of mortals. Our journey in one another’s company was not the worst pretext for finally satisfying my burning curiosity, I thought.
“Glamma, what do you prefer, the opportunity to keep silent, or the opportunity to talk?” I asked cautiously.
“I always enjoy talking to you, Marilyn, just as I enjoy talking to my friend Sir Max,” Lonli-Lokli replied sedately.
Did I detect some warmth of feeling in his voice? Either I was imagining it, or Sir Glamma, the new persona of the Master of Snuffing Out Unnecessary Lives, was a bit wayward (from the point of view of his former self).
“If you don’t want to answer my question, just tell me, all right?”
“Of course I’ll tell you. What else could I do under the circumstances?”
Lonli-Lokli’s iron logic restored my self-confidence.
“Fine. I’ve made my decision. All the more since the subject concerns not you, Glamma, but my friend Lonli-Lokli.”
“I can’t help but admire your sense of timing,” my companion said approvingly. “All things should be done at the proper time, including asking questions. Ask away. I think I’ll be able to satisfy your curiosity.”
“I hope so. Once, the name Sir Shurf Lonli-Lokli was mentioned in a conversation with an old Magician, a friend of Juffin’s. When he heard the name, he said, ‘Ah, the Mad Fishmonger!’ Juffin nodded, but a certain Sir Max was very perplexed. Madness was the last thing he would have associated with his friend Shurf.”
“We haven’t known each other for very long. This explains your surprise. If you’re interested in the history of the person I was in my youth, it’s no secret whatsoever, in contrast to the history of Sir Max himself.”
“Really?” I replied, somewhat confused.
I have to admit, Shurf’s last remark (or Glamma’s, if you will) sent me into something of a panic. Melamori, Sir Kofa, and now Lonli-Lokli—they all sensed that something wasn’t quite right with me. Actually, that’s why they are secret investigators, isn’t it? Ah well, it’s Juffin’s fault, after all. Let him explain whatever he wishes, or keep it to himself.
“I don’t intend to ask any questions, since I feel the time isn’t right yet,” Lonli-Lokli said. “You need to learn to control the expressions of your face. Actually, if you don’t forget to do the exercises I taught you every day, that skill will develop of its own accord.”
“In about forty years?”
“I can’t say exactly. Maybe sooner.”
“All right, Glamma. Never mind my facial expressions. Let me hear your story, if it’s no secret.”
“Of course it isn’t! Exactly seventeen dozen years ago, a certain youth by the name of Shurf became an apprentice of the Order of the Holey Cup, with which his family was closely connected. So the young man did-n’t really have much choice in the matter. Actually, for those times it was a more than enviable fate. Not six dozen years had gone by and this young man became the Junior Magician and Master Fishmonger. In other words, he became the watchman over the holey aquariums of the Order. As far as I know, Sir Juffin once told you in fairly great detail about the ways of the Order of the Holey Cup, so I won’t repeat it.”
“All members of the order ate only fish that lived in holey aquariums and drank from holey vessels, like your famous cup, right?”
“That’s a rudimentary, but generally true, characterization. So, for several years the Junior Magician Shurf Lonli-Lokli carried out his duties splendidly.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt it for a minute.”
“Well, you should, since the person we’re talking about is completely unknown to you. He was one of the most intemperate, capricious, and emotionally volatile people I’ve ever met; and believe me, I’m putting it mildly. The path on which members of the Order of the Holey Cup sought their strength did not help them to curb their own vices. You should know that this holds true for many other ancient Orders, as well.”
I nodded.
“Yes, Juffin told me about it. I just wish I could get the tiniest glimpse of what really went on during the infamous Epoch of Orders.”
“I recommend that you discuss it with Sir Kofa Yox. He’s a gifted storyteller, in contrast to me.”
“Nonsense, Glamma! You’re an excellent raconteur. Please go on.”
“I’m terrible when it comes to telling a story. It’s just that the subject is interesting to you,” Lonli-Lokli said. “I brought up the lack of restraint I had as a young man, because this aspect of his character explains his foolish action.” He frowned and fell silent.
“What foolish action would that be?” I urged him on, burning with curiosity.
“He wanted to acquire power at all costs: a great deal of it, and very quickly. So he drank the water from all the aquariums that he was supposed to be looking after.”
I couldn’t help laughing. I could imagine the fantastic spectacle, as though it were happening right in front of my eyes. Our Shurf drinking the aquariums dry, one after another. Sinning Magicians!
“Pardon me, Glamma, but it strikes me as very funny,” I confessed with a guilty air when I had caught my breath.
“Yes, I’m sure it does. The fish that lived in the aquariums perished, naturally, and the reckless young man gained enormous power. Except he couldn’t deal with it. That is knowledge one must learn over the course of centuries. It’s difficult for me to describe further events in any great detail; my memory is simply unable to retrieve a large part of what this foolish youth did after he left the Residence of his Order. But I can tell you that in the city they called him the Mad Fishmonger—and for a person to be called ‘mad’ during the Epoch of Orders, he really had to make an effort! I remember none of the residents of the city dared deny me anything I demanded. I was surrounded by terrified women, many servants, a great deal of money, and other things that crude people find entertaining. But I grew weary of all of this very quickly. I became obsessed. In those days, I liked to frighten people. More than that, however, I liked to kill. However, killing ordinary city-dwellers was demeaning. I longed to drink the blood of the Grand Magicians. I would appear at the necessary place, and then disappear. Too many hollow marvels, which I myself couldn’t understand, were committed at that time; but the blood of the Grand Magicians lay nevertheless beyond my reach.”
“Gosh, Shurf! Can this really be true?”
I realized that our Sir Lonli-Lokli wasn’t the cleverest liar in the Unified Kingdom—but all the same I couldn’t believe my ears.
“Call me Glamma. You forgot again, Marilyn,” the stern tone of my companion put an end to my doubts.
“People change, don’t they?” I asked quietly.
“Not all of them. But sometimes it happens. Actually, that’s not the whole story.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“I wanted even more power, more than the famous Magicians about whose blood I dreamed back then. One day the Mad Fishmonger arrived at the Residence of the Order of the Icy Hand to seize for himself one of the mightiest of all hands.”
“Your gloves!”
“Yes. My left glove, to be exact. The right one I received when I fought with a Junior Magician of this Order. The fellow tried to stop me, so I bit off his right hand.”
“You bit it off!”
“Of course. What’s so strange about that? It was far less eccentric than most of my other escapades at the time.”
“Juffin told me that there was a tremendous amount of powerful magic in the Order of the Icy Hand. Did they really—”
“You see, after I had drunk dry all the twenty dozen aquariums, I received the power meant for the six hundred members of my Order. So it was very difficult to stop me, and when I got the gloves that you are familiar with, I became even more dangerous. But they finally did stop me.”
“Who? Was it Juffin?”
“No, Sir Juffin Hully came into my life a bit later. Two dead men stopped the Mad Fishmonger. They were the owners of the hands I took for my own. On one night they came to me in my dream. At that time, I became defenseless when I slept. Not completely, but almost. They wanted to take me away to somewhere between life and death in a place of endless tormented dying. I’m not very adept at describing things, so it would be better if your imagination would tell you what I was threatened with.”
“Never mind my imagination,” I murmured. “I’m hanging on to your every word. I won’t be able to get to sleep.”
“Well your words assure me that you’re close to understanding the problem I’m trying to describe, Marilyn,” said Lonli-Lokli. “I was very lucky that night. I awoke suddenly in great pain, as the old house where I was sleeping began crashing down. One of the stones hit me on the forehead. You may be wondering why the house started falling down; Sir Juffin Hully can tell you the details of his unsuccessful hunt for the Mad Fishmonger. There was no Secret Investigative Force at that time, but Sir Juffin was already entrusted with special missions by the King and the Seven-Leaf Clover. He was terribly renowned—and he deserved it, I suppose. But the Kettarian Hunter, as Sir Venerable Head was called back then, saved my life purely by chance. I managed to get out of the collapsing house in time, without even realizing what was happening. Meanwhile I was worried about something completely different. It was clear that the next dream would be my last. So I decided to live life to the hilt, mustering all my resources for that purpose, and then to kill myself before suffering the wrath of the dead Magicians. I succeeded in living without sleep for almost two years.”
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