The Stranger's Magic: The Labyrinths of Echo: Book Three (18 page)

Our discussion about melons and menkals ended soon after it had started: we had arrived at the House by the Bridge. Juffin jumped out of the amobiler and disappeared behind the door at the speed
of bad news. I slapped my forehead: with all this hullabaloo I had completely forgotten about Shurf’s books.

What’s taking you so long, boy? Juffin showed his impatience by sending me a call.

I forgot to bring books for Sir Shurf. He’s going to try to kill me again, and this time he’ll have every right to do so. I’m thinking I should probably go back real quick.

It’s up to you, though you’ll be missing out on your share of kamra.

Ouch, that would be a shame, wouldn’t it? Okay. I’ll be with you in a second.

I already had a plan. I stuck my hand underneath the seat of the amobiler, trying to probe the Chink between Worlds. It was a great opportunity to keep in shape.

I remembered how I had produced a box of cigars out of thin air for General Boboota. I had had to strain my imagination thinking about the presumed owners of those cigars: coffee cups in their
hands, wooden humidor on the desk, and all. Now I tried to use the same method, summoning up in my imagination the bookshelves in a library. It triggered a strange association in my head, and I
remembered
The Library Policeman
, a novella by Stephen King. I smirked at myself and thought, Yeah, ransacking that library wouldn’t be such a great idea. These thoughts kept me from
focusing properly, but a few minutes later a paperback book fell out of my numb fingers onto the floor. I picked it up and read the title:
Our Time Has Gone
by one Ingvar Stefansson. Neither
the name of the book nor the author’s name rang a bell. No wonder, though. Even though I used to be a voracious reader, there was no way I could have even made a dent in everything my
scribbling compatriots had ever written. With my trophy tucked under my arm, I headed to the House by the Bridge.

A courier from the Glutton was bustling about in our office. Sir Juffin had decided to feed the prisoner. Lonli-Lokli, just out of his cell, was playing absentmindedly with a cup of kamra.

“I thought you went to the palace,” said Juffin, “to pick up a book and sing a lullaby to your harem.”

“You know what? I’ve had it up to here today with Melifaro’s snide little quips,” I said. “I sure don’t want to hear the same ones from you.” I turned
to Shurf. “Here’s a book for you, buddy. Just one, but it’s from another World. I figured no one besides me would bring you a book like this.”

“Indeed,” said Lonli-Lokli, his usually stony face expressing ordinary surprise. “A book from another World! Who would have thought? Oh, it is so much better than anything one
could find in the old university library.”

“Well, not necessarily. Actually, I haven’t read it, nor have I ever heard of the author, so I can’t guarantee you this will be a quality read.”

“A quality read? I think that is quite irrelevant. I have never read books written in another World before. To me, this is more than just a book.”

“Well, of course.”

I imagined how I would react if someone had lent me a book from another World five or six years ago, before I had become Sir Max from Echo or had dared hope that these other Worlds even existed.
I doubted I’d be interested in the literary value of such a book. It probably would be “more than just a book” to me, too. Shurf was absolutely right.

“A book from your World?” said Juffin. “Oh, my. You write books there? I thought that movies were enough to entertain you. How do you manage all this in just seventy years, or
however long you live there?”

“We’re smart and quick,” I said. “Can’t you tell by looking at me?”

“I sure can. Are you smart and quick enough to descend to Xumgat already?”

“Let’s go back to the good old terminology,” I said. “Those words you’re using now reek of some ancient mystical bunkum, as you yourself admitted the other day.
I’m sort of ready for a stroll down the Corridor between Worlds, but to ‘descend to Xumgat’? Uh-uh, sir. No way.”

“You know, I had a similar reaction when certain allegedly powerful Magicians used such words in my presence,” said Juffin. “Maybe that was why I captured so many
Magicians—Grand and not so grand—back in the day. I was sick of their manners of expression. The rest was just a pretext.”

“Sounds like it could be true,” I said, laughing. “So this is the confession of the famous Kettarian Hunter. All the bloodshed could have been avoided, but their highfalutin
terminology proved to be the ultimate undoing of the poor little Magicians.”

“You sure are in great spirits,” said the boss. “Let’s go now while you’re still in this mood.”

“Do we need to go somewhere? I thought you could open the Door between Worlds anywhere.”

“I can. Well, not just anywhere: there are places in the World that facilitate such undertakings and places that inhibit them. But today we must use your personal Door. You have only one
so far, and it’s in your former bedroom.”

“Is there a difference between these Doors?” I said. “I thought—”

“Never mind what you thought. When two people travel through Xumgat—I mean the Corridor between Worlds—one of them must be the guide, the other the guest. We need to get to the
World from your dreams, so you will be the guide. That’s why you and I are going to the Street of Old Coins.”

“And kick two beautiful ladies out of the movie theater?” I said. “They’re going to scratch my eyes out for this.”

“I’m sure they will. Let’s go, hero. Sir Shurf, I’m sure you can’t wait for us to get out of here so you can be alone with this mystical monument of otherworldly
literature, huh?”

Lonli-Lokli didn’t contradict him. He sighed and looked at the cover of the book with undisguised tenderness. We locked him up in his detention cell and proceeded to the Street of Old
Coins.

I wasn’t worried or scared about the upcoming journey. I had never been what you would call brave, but having Sir Juffin Hully at my side was the best calmative I knew: with him I could go
to Hades itself. So on our way, I wasn’t haunted by premonitions and chatted about inconsequential things with Juffin instead.

“By the way, why were there no women at my reception?” This question had been bothering me all evening. “Neither among the grandees of the provinces, nor among the ambassadors.
Looks like women have a hard time climbing up the government ladder in the Unified Kingdom.”

“Can you stop thinking about women for a minute?” said Juffin. “Then again, you have a harem now. You’re partly right: all the grandees of our provinces are men. And you
won’t find too many women in the Royal Court, either. But it’s not because someone holds them back from occupying higher positions in the government. Usually they don’t wish to
move up themselves. You see, these jobs normally require being in the public eye and a great deal of fuss and bother. Wise women can’t stand that sort of thing, and no one needs stupid women
in the government service any more than he needs stupid men. If some eccentric lady does want to try her hand at government affairs, she’s usually much better at her job than most of her male
colleagues. She quickly becomes far too important to be seen hanging around the residences of foreign kings. You know, women are much more radical than we are: it’s all or nothing with them.
I already told you this once, when you asked me why there were no women Grand Magicians. If a woman becomes a member of an Order, she won’t be interested in such petty things as nominal power
over her fellow members. If she gets a government job, she quickly becomes one of the Secret Ministers under almost any government.”

“I see,” I said, laughing. “In the World where I was born, people still think that, as a rule, women are not good enough to hold a high post. Here you think they’re too
good for it. But the results are just the same.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t understand it,” said Juffin. “The results are radically different, even if it doesn’t seem so at first glance. Back in the day, Grand
Magician Nuflin turned to seek my help only because our friend Lady Sotofa Xanemer wanted him to. He would have preferred not have me anywhere near Uguland. Better yet, he’d rather have had
my head on a platter: back then Nuflin thought everyone would have benefitted from that. And that’s just one example.”

“Whoa! So someone like Lady Sotofa is behind each pivotal decision made by our government officials?”

“Almost. There are some pleasant exceptions. Take me, for example. I’m an independent guy. Which is for the better. Speaking of women: you’d better start thinking up a way to
explain to your girlfriends why we have to pry them away from the TV. We’re almost there.”

Just as I had suspected, Melamori and Tekki were sitting in my former bedroom, glued to the TV and giggling like tipsy schoolgirls. The show they were watching—a weightlifting
competition—baffled me. Where on earth did this come from? I wondered. I’d never tape something like that in a million years. The tape was probably a humble contribution of the former
owner of the collection. So much for knowing someone like the back of your hand.

When they saw us, the ladies were visibly embarrassed. They even blushed. “We’re busted. Caught red-handed, right in the middle of some hot stuff,” said Tekki. She buried her
face in Melamori’s shoulder, and they both giggled.

“We’re Secret Investigators; it’s our job to bust people,” I said. “And what, pray tell, is this ‘hot stuff’ you’re referring to?”

“Oh, this?” said Melamori, pointing to the TV. “I’ve never seen a more vulgar spectacle than these huffing and puffing, half-naked fat guys. Or anything funnier. Is this
the usual pastime in your homeland, Max? Have you ever done this?”

“Well, see, I don’t exactly have the right constitution,” I said. “Besides, this isn’t a pastime. It’s a way of determining who’s the strongest person. Not the smartest way, if you think about it, but still . . .”

Meanwhile, Juffin was staring at the TV. On the screen, a giant in a pink leotard was trying, and failing, to lift a five-hundred-thirtypound barbell.

“Disgusting,” he said. “Ladies, are you really enjoying this?”

“And how,” said Tekki. “We’ve watched it twice already.”

“You have, have you? Well, now turn it off and get out of the room. Go have a cup of kamra and get spiffed up. You can come back in thirty minutes and continue your highly intellectual
activities since you’ve grown so fond of these horrible creatures.”

“Oh, I see. You need to go somewhere from here,” said Melamori.

“No, we want to admire these beauty boys, too. We’re just embarrassed when you’re around,” I said.

“Ah, okay then,” said Melamori.

Tekki was already standing in the doorway, smiling at me. It was the kind of desperate smile you would adopt to see off a hero when he’s about to embark on a journey down Xumgat, I
thought. Jeepers.

“Good night, ladies,” said Juffin, bowing to them. “And don’t stay here until dawn, or you risk having us land on top of your beautiful heads when we return.”

“Not to worry, sir. Our heads are hard enough. But you just might hurt yourselves,” said Melamori. Tekki didn’t say anything, just shook her head. Then they both walked out of
the room.

“Will you look at that?” I said. “They’re best friends now. So much for old family feuds.”

“Are you joking? Melamori would love to be best friends with Loiso Pondoxo himself, not just with his daughter, just to annoy her daddy. She and Korva have been competing to annoy each
other for as long as I can remember. And I think Ms. Melamori is ahead of the game.”

“Starting from the fact that she was born a girl, in spite of his dream of having a son.”

“Precisely. Now, while we’re on the subject, have you noticed that your Tekki is a lot like yourself? You two look different, of course, but the way she talks and walks
and—”

“I know. It was the first thing I noticed about her,” I said. “And, like any normal narcissistic jackass, I thought it was the best thing that’d ever happened to me. I
still do.”

“She is a mirror,” said Juffin. “Like all Loiso Pondoxo’s children, Lady Tekki becomes the reflection of her interlocutor. And their famous daddy was one of the best
mirrors around, believe me. It’s the most devastating kind of personal charm. Only when she’s very scared, sad, or alone does the true Tekki come out, which doesn’t happen all
that often, right? While you were having a vacation in your World, I dropped by the tavern a few times. Then we often met here in this room to watch movies. Trust me, chatting with Lady Tekki feels
like having a split personality, in a nice way. When Tekki spends time with Melamori, she becomes her replica. Disarming, right? No one can resist. The most logical step is to become best
friends.”