The Stranger's Magic: The Labyrinths of Echo: Book Three (2 page)

“That won’t be necessary,” I said as I ran down the narrow winding stairs. “It’s not so bad. I don’t have to get smashed.”

“My experience suggests that intoxication brings more pleasure and goes away faster than a cold, and you can trust my experience,” said this magnificent fellow.

I returned to the living room in the best of spirits. I had thawed out, put on a warm house looxi, and accepted a petition from my stomach claiming that it was fit enough to digest an entire
herd of elephants, if need be.

The dinner table was chock-full of trays and jugs. For starters, I poured myself a full mug of hot kamra.

“Now I’m back,” I said after a few cautious sips.

“If you say so, it must be true. Well, this is not bad news at all,” said Lonli-Lokli.

I took a good look at his serious face, trying to catch the traces of a fast disappearing smirk. This game of catch, however, was not mine to win. As usual.

“By the way, at my place you can safely remove your gloves,” I said, pulling my plates closer. “Or do you prefer to keep them on in case I start telling stupid jokes so you can
make me shut up once and for all? I’m going to have to disappoint you: some people say that my chatterbox mouth won’t close even after my death. So killing me is not the
solution.”

“What a strange idea! I do not consider your life to be so meaningless as to require snuffing out due to such trifles. There is another reason for me to keep the gloves on.”

“Are you sensing danger?” I stopped eating and attempted to pull a serious face. Danger that threatens Lonli-Lokli himself definitely deserves to be taken seriously.

“No, Max, I am not sensing any danger. At least, not here and not now. I’m not taking off the gloves because I left the box I keep them in back in my office in the House by the
Bridge. Did you really think that a weapon such as my gloves could simply be kept in my pocket?”

“I guess that would be against all safety codes,” I said, laughing. “All right, to Magicians with your horrifying mittens. Tell me what happened to your ‘private
life.’ I’m dying to know.”

“Nothing really happened,” said Shurf. “Nothing that one should confide about to strangers. Nothing that people should worry about. Yet I feel somewhat uneasy about it. Max, do
you remember how you once took me into your dream?”

“Of course I do. It was when we were on our way to Kettari. We had to sleep in a really small bed, and you offered me ‘the possibility of using your sleep,’ to borrow your own
bombastic expression.”

“That is correct,” said Shurf, nodding. “Yet that was not what happened. Instead, we traveled to some amazing places from your dreams. Frankly, what happened didn’t look
like an ordinary dream. I have always suspected that the nature of your dreams deserved a most thorough study. But I digress. Do you remember that among other visions there were endless sandy
beaches at the shore of some strange motionless sea? Quite a hostile place, although in your company I enjoyed the trip very much.”

“Sure, I remember that. But how come you’re bringing this up now?”

“Simply because the time has come to bring this up,” said Shurf. “Recently I have been dreaming about that place too often. Without your intervention, as far as I can tell. And
I no longer think that it is a place I enjoy visiting, be it in a dream or otherwise.”

“Definitely without my intervention,” I said. “For one thing, you and I sleep on different pillows.”

“Well, in theory, the distance between the heads of the sleepers only plays a role for such novices in these matters as myself. And if my estimation of your abilities is correct, you are
quite capable of making me contemplate your dreams remotely. I am certain, however, that this was not your doing. I would have felt your presence had they been your dreams I was dreaming. Yet never
once have I felt your presence in them, of that I am sure. I have always felt someone else, however. Someone whom I can never see. I do not like his presence, even though it is barely noticeable.
What’s more, I think I know him.”

“Well, I’m outraged,” I said. “Some strangers have been wandering around in my favorite dream without my knowing it. I’m glad that you have reported the situation
to me. Trust me, I would never intentionally drag you into my dreams, even if I could. And I can’t. At least
I’ve never tried. I haven’t seen these beaches in my dreams for a long time myself. The last time I walked along those beaches was when I spent the night in the bedroom of Sir
Melifaro’s grandfather. To be frank with you, I even began to forget about them. It’s not entirely surprising though. I forget about things that are much more important than dreams on a
regular basis.”

“You are underestimating the situation, Max. Nothing is more important than certain dreams. I am surprised that I have to tell this to a man who gains his power from dreams,” said
Lonli-Lokli, shaking his head in disapproval.

“You’re right,” I said, ashamed. “It’s just that recently reality has been playing a lot of practical jokes on me. In any case, what you’re saying is exactly
what I have suspected all along.”

“I wanted to find out whether something similar was happening to you,” said Lonli-Lokli. “Apparently nothing is happening to you. Tell me, before, when you dreamed about those
beaches, did you ever meet anyone there? Or perhaps you, too, felt someone’s ominous presence there?”

“No, I never felt anything like that. I’m very fond of that place, and have always thought that it belonged to me and me alone. You know how you sometimes have a strange, vague
feeling of being absolutely sure about something, which is not based on anything concrete?”

“Absolutely,” said Lonli-Lokli. “In my view, one should trust such a feeling. Oh well, I guess you are of no help in this matter then.”

“What do you mean ‘no help’?” I said. “I’m the one who lured you into that unwholesome spot. Naturally I had no idea what I was doing and all that, but it
doesn’t relieve me of responsibility for the possible consequences. After all, it’s my dream. Who else is supposed to take care of it but me?”

“And how are you going to ‘take care of’ the dream that you stopped seeing a long, long time ago?”

“I have to think about it.”

I put aside the plate, which was now empty, and gave a loud, resonant sneeze. The cold was definitely standing on my trace. It was licking its lips, anticipating how it would gobble me up.

“Perhaps you should put aside your childish belief in your invincibility and have a glass of hot wine. It is a tried-and-true method,” said Lonli-Lokli in the tone of a lecturer.
“Authors of numerous books on medicine support the common notion that this beverage has a positive effect on those who have fallen victim to exposure to cold.”

Without waiting for an answer, he put the jug of wine on the hot plate.

“Well, perhaps from your holey cup. Do you have it on you?” I said. “Maybe this magic ritual will not just rid me of my cold but also help me collect my thoughts.”

“This is quite possible,” said Shurf, producing his ancient bottomless cup from the folds of his looxi. “This ritual will be no less effective on you than it was on the former
members of my Order. It certainly won’t make matters worse.”

“They can’t get any worse,” I said as I discovered that I had become the proud owner of a few tons of fresh snot. “A hole in the heavens above my nose! This cold sure
isn’t wasting any time.”

“Here you go.” Lonli-Lokli, his hand in the enormous protective glove covered in old runes, handed me the cup, one quarter full of hot wine. “I think this should be
enough.”

“I sure hope so,” I said, snuffling, and carefully accepted the holey vessel.

I was worried that it wouldn’t work this time. When you have a cold, it’s difficult to maintain faith in your own powers. The powers were still with me, though: the liquid remained
in the holey vessel as if I had spent half of my life as a novice at the Order of the Holey Cup, side by side with my magnificent colleague.

I drained the hot wine with one gulp and almost swooned with relief. I still had the cold, but it didn’t matter. Nothing really mattered: I felt so light on my feet and indifferent that even more serious inconveniences wouldn’t have mattered.

I returned the magic cup to its owner and became very still, listening to the special broadcast coming from within the depths of my body. The cold retreated first. A slight but persistent pain
in my throat increased momentarily and then abandoned me for good. Finally I coughed, but the bout was gone as soon as it had started. It turned out that I had come down with a cold, but this
existential experience lasted little more than a minute rather than your usual dozen days or so.

“Well, I’ll be,” I said when I regained the ability to speak again.
“That was awesome, Shurf! Your holey cup works a little differently every time. It’s as if it knows what I need from it. Now you and I won’t have to rummage through my house
looking for a handkerchief, which I’ve never had to begin with. Instead, we can take on the case of the empty beaches.”

“Are you really willing to get down to the bottom of my dreams?” said Lonli-Lokli. “I am very honored to receive your magnanimity—although, knowing you, I will be so bold
as to surmise that your primary motive is curiosity.”

“That’s as good a reason as any to begin an investigation,” I said, embarrassed.

“What is it that you’re going to do? Perhaps I should offer to share my dream with you again as I did when we were on our way to Kettari. But in this case we might lose a great deal
of time, as I do not dream of your beaches every single day. The last time it happened was, in fact, last night. Who knows how long we will have to wait for the next opportunity? Three days? Five?
A dozen? Besides, you still work nights, which complicates the task at hand even further.”

“Normally I work around the clock, praise be Sir Juffin Hully. There’s never a dull moment with him,” I said with a sigh. “You know what I think, Shurf? I think for
starters I should pay a visit to the Melifaro homestead. It’s a piece of cake to control one’s dreams in the bedroom of his grandfather. Tell you what, I’m going there today. Not
sure if the trip will turn out to be useful, but there’s no doubt that it’s going to be pleasurable. Darn, I sure know how to seize an opportunity, don’t I?”

“Do you have any reason to believe that my problem requires immediate action?” said Shurf.

“Do ants in my pants count as a reason? Just yesterday, Juffin was needling me about why the heck I demanded two Days of Freedom from Chores instead of one. He insists that R & R is
not my area of expertise. According to him, I have absolutely no talent for it. As far as I’m concerned, our boss is right. It’s not even sunset and I’m already moonlighting, if
you’ll pardon the pun. Speaking of the boss, why haven’t you told Juffin about your terrifying dreams? He is old and wise and knows almost everything there is to know about the dark
side of life. I know that those dreams are something I dream from time to time, but everything else about them is beyond my ken.”

“That is an amusing way of putting it,” said Shurf, approvingly.

And that’s just quintessential Shurf. You never know which one of the silly things I say is going to fly in one of his ears and out the other, and which one he will jot down in his
notebook.

“As for Sir Juffin Hully,” said Shurf, putting his terrifying notebook back under the fold of his looxi, “you see, Max, this matter concerns your dreams, not mine. If a third
party is to learn about them, you should be the one to divulge this information. In theory, every person has the right to keep private secrets. It says so in the Code of Krember.”

“It says a lot of things,” I said, smirking. “I’m afraid Juffin knows more about my ‘private secrets’ than I do myself. But you’re right, let’s
not pester the boss with trifles. Maybe I’ll be able to figure out what’s wrong with my empty beaches on my own, and then we’ll see. I’m sure Melifaro will be on cloud nine
if I take him to his parents’ estate on the spur of the moment. At least some good will come out of our undertaking.”

“I admire your determination, Max,” said Lonli-Lokli. He placed the empty cup on the table and stood up. “Thank you. I hope you will not be offended if I tell you that I have
some other unfinished business.”

“I have been told more than once that hope is a darn-fool feeling. On the other hand, being offended is also a darn-fool feeling, an even greater one. And so I’m not offended. If you
give me a few moments, I can change and give you a lift to Headquarters. Does this unfinished business of yours glumly hang around outside the doors of your office, by any chance?”

“Thank you, but that will not be necessary. My business usually hangs around in other places,” said Lonli-Lokli, nodding. “I must hand it to you, sometimes you combine words in
a very eloquent manner. Good night, and please keep me posted.”

As he was heading toward the exit, I admired his upright stance. People as tall as he have a natural inclination to stoop. But Sir Shurf Lonli-Lokli broke the laws of gravity, as well as other
laws of nature.