The Stranger (19 page)

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Authors: Max Frei,Polly Gannon

Tags: #Mystery & Detective, #Horror, #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Epic

BOOK: The Stranger
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With a headache, wet and sticky from sweat—the vile companion of nightmares—I was happy. Waking up was so wonderful! I dug around in the closet and found the precious bottle of Elixir of Kaxar. “Take care of this, Max; it should be for special occasions, not every day,” Juffin had advised me. But my body was begging for mercy, and I didn’t torment myself with doubt, either. Before I had gotten my hands on a bottle of that wonderful remedy, a dream like that could have stripped me of all spiritual strength for weeks. Now, I felt immediate relief, and I hoped that it would last for a while. I smiled at the afternoon sun and went downstairs to enhance the pleasant change I was experiencing with a bath and some good kamra.
In an hour’s time I was fully dressed, but it was too early to go to work. I spent some time in the living room with a book on my lap. The view from the window no longer pleased me as it used to; but for some reason I didn’t dare turn my back on the scene.
Finally, I had to admit that it was no use. I put aside the third volume of Manga Melifaro’s
Encyclopedia
and went out into the street to get a closer look at the house opposite. I got out my brand new dagger and took a look at the gauge on its hilt. The building was innocent as a babe. There were traces of permitted second-degree black magic. Perhaps the owners were making kamra, or trying to remove oil spatterings, which they had every right to do.
But my heart was of a different opinion. “This is a foul place,” it thumped anxiously. That invaluable muscle had become a good advisor to me of late. I knew I should heed its judgment; but I wanted something entirely different. I wanted to calm down and go on living. I did my best.
You have to stop listening to scary stories before bedtime, my dear boy! I told myself breezily.
To distract myself, I took my new toy down the block, checking my neighbors’ observance of the Code of Krember as I went along. Judging by the gauge, they were law-abiding and singularly devoted to culinary experiments. Black magic of the second degree oozed out of almost all the windows. When after a time the needle began to careen dangerously between the permitted two and the highly undesirable three, I looked around. In front of me was a small tavern with the menacing name of
The Sated Skeleton
. The cook there must really love his work, I thought, and decided to stop in for breakfast.
The Glutton Bunba
is, of course, my all-time favorite; but I do like to try new things for a change.
Nightmares or not, I had a good appetite that called for more than my usual humble breakfast rations. At the table next to mine, two local women were discussing a certain Lady Alatan, who had been robbed while she was out shopping; and “those whelps taught her a good lesson!” In my thoughts, I gave my condolences to the hapless lady: I had already met the gentleman whose duty it was to protect her possessions. But even that didn’t spoil my appetite.
After breakfast I set off leisurely for work, tracing a concentric circle around the Old Town. There I spent all the money I had in my pocket on completely useless but charming housewares. Where I come from, it is believed that retail therapy can save housewives ground down by routine. I can bear witness to the fact that it also saves certain gallant members of the Secret Force from the vestiges of the previous night’s bad dreams.
Weighed down with packages, I arrived at the House by the Bridge only a half hour earlier than I was supposed to.
“Settling into your home, then, are you, O Policeman’s Blight?” asked Juffin, as he studied my packages. “You know, Max, Boboota thinks that because you yelled at him, you have the right to do so. He respects you. I believe he is also looking forward to strangling you. Good job, my boy. Tell me the truth, did you really think he was just a run-of-the-mill ruffian?”
“He was being a troublemaker! It’s inappropriate for government officials to act like that. I’ll have this place cleaned up in no time!” I made a scary face and then admitted, “I’ve always dreamed of being in a position of power, sir.”
“That’s good,” said Juffin. “Maybe together we could tame him. What’s the matter with you, Max? You seem a bit odd today.” I was shocked.
“Is it really that noticeable? I thought—”
“It is to me. I hope Boboota hasn’t hired a witch. No, he wouldn’t do that. He’s actually one of the most law-abiding of citizens. He even has his wife do permitted magic at home, and he doesn’t lift a finger. So what happened, Max?”
I was glad for the opportunity to get it off my back. Maybe that’s why I ended up getting to work early.
“It’s nothing really, just a dream I had last night. In my case, though, it’s a problem. I had a nightmare, that’s all. A disgusting nightmare; nothing really even happened in it but it left me with the most loathsome feeling.” And I told him my dream down to the last detail.
“Did you check the house when you woke up?”
“Yeah. Black magic of the second degree. I guess the former tenants brewed kamra. But you know better than I do that sometimes the sensor can be wrong.”
“I know; but sealing off a house in such a way that the needle doesn’t stay at zero, and shows more or less average readings . . . theoretically, it’s possible, but who would be capable of doing that? I certainly wouldn’t. No, not even me, boy! I may not be the most powerful wizard in the world, but I am certainly not in the minor leagues. You said that you had an unpleasant reaction?”
“To put in mildly. My heart almost gave out in the madness.”
“Well, Max, I’m going to take a little walk around that neighborhood on my way home. I had nothing planned anyway. I even gave my diurnal rep permission to go frolic at his parents’ mansion. And Sir Lonli-Lokli returned home an hour earlier than usual, which hasn’t happened in several dozen years. Let’s go to the
Glutton
for a glass of kamra. Will you look after things here, Kurush? Max will bring back something tasty for you. Maybe later, we can take a stroll down to the Main Archive. I don’t know about your kinsmen, but Sir Lookfi Pence would be thrilled. Anyway, my heart tells me that tonight will be even quieter than last night, if that’s possible. Let’s go, Max.”
“Don’t forget the treat,” Kurush reminded us.
All the while we were at the
Glutton
Sir Juffin was the embodiment of paternal concern. It was amazing—he really showed sympathy for me and my silly problem.
“Whatever it is, Max, you’re not the type of kid to get a nightmare from acid indigestion. Sometimes your dreams are unusual. If this happens again, I think you had better spend a few days at my place, at least until we get to the bottom of it.”
“Thank you, Juffin. But I don’t want to leave my house. All my life I’ve wanted a house like that, with a bedroom beneath the eaves, a living room downstairs, stairs that creak, and no extra furniture. Now, at last I’ve found the house I’ve been looking for. And you know what? Like hell they’re going to chase me out of it!”
“So you’re going to sleep at home and entertain yourself with a half dozen nightmares every night?”
“I certainly hope not. Maybe it won’t happen again. Everyone has nightmares, and they usually don’t mean anything at all.”
“And what about your chest pains when you went outside? You think that was just a coincidence? A cat has nine lives, but you’re no cat.”
I jumped in surprise at hearing the old turn of phrase.
“Do you have cats here?”
“Who doesn’t!”
“Why haven’t I seen one yet?”
“Where could you have seen one? You’ve never been to the countryside. We don’t keep cats at home; they’re like cows and sheep.”
“That’s odd. I guess yours are the wrong sort of cats.”
“You mean
yours
are the wrong sort of cats,” Juffin retorted. “
Ours
are the rightest sort of cats in the entire Universe!”
 
Then we parted ways. Juffin Hully set off for a stroll around the Street of Old Coins, and I went to the House by the Bridge to hang out. Kurush got a cream pastry. According to my colleagues, they’re his favorite. It turned out that the buriwok was unable to clean the sticky cream off his beak, and I had to run around the office in search of a napkin.
Then I went upstairs and regaled Sir Lookfi Pence and a good hundred or so buriwoks with tales from the Barren Lands, which I’d borrowed from the third volume of
Encyclopedia
. When the long twilight shadows had thickened into night, Sir Lookfi began getting ready to go home, knocking over chairs all the while. That was how I learned that his working day lasts from noon to nightfall. The rest of the time the buriwoks like going about their own business, and it’s best not to disturb them. They looked upon dear old Kurush as something of an oddball for spending all his time with humans.
I invited Sir Lookfi for a mug of kamra in my office. He seemed pleased and shy at the same time. He sent a call to his wife, after which he said:
“Varisha has agreed to miss me for another hour. Thank you, Sir Max! I apologize that I didn’t accept your invitation immediately. You see, we’re newlyweds and . . .” Embarrassed, the poor fellow got tangled up in the folds of his own looxi. I had to catch him so he wouldn’t fall.
“Don’t apologize,” I said, smiling. “You did just the right thing, my friend.”
Once I was back in the office, I called for the courier, who darted in seconds later and looked into my eyes with fawning devotion. I could just see it, the title of a horror movie:
Max, Devourer of Underlings
. Quite a nice ring to it, I thought!
Lookfi sipped his kamra with evident enjoyment, all the while soaking the intricately-patterned hem of his looxi in his cup. I didn’t waste any time, and started asking him about the buriwoks. I had already heard Kurush’s take on things, and now I wanted to hear the opinion of one of the other parties involved.
“I was offered this job by the buriwoks themselves,” said Sir Lookfi. “I don’t know why they chose me, but one day, a long time ago—a long
long
time ago—a courier came to my house and brought me an invitation from the House by the Bridge. The birds said that they would find my presence most suitable. They rejected the other candidates out of hand—even the cousin of the King’s Advisor. Do you know why, Kurush?”
“I’ve told you many times—because you can tell us apart.”
“Kurush, you’re just as much of a joker as Sir Juffin! Who in the world wouldn’t be able to tell you apart?”
“I would probably have a hard time telling one buriwok from another,” I confessed in perplexity.
“There you have it. I’ve been telling him the same thing over and over for more than a hundred years, and he still doesn’t believe me,” Kurush grumbled. “Although, it’s true, his memory isn’t too bad; for a human, of course.”
“I suppose I do have a good memory,” said Lookfi. “Yet all my life I thought others were forgetful and
I
was only average.”
“He remembers how many feathers each of us has,” Kurush told me confidingly.
“No kidding!” I whistled. “If that was the one and only thing you remembered, Lookfi, I would
still
be a dimwit compared to you.”
“Don’t say that, Sir Max,” said Lookfi. “You’re not a dimwit at all; you’re just a bit absent-minded.”
Sinning Magicians, I thought, look who’s talking!
Finally, Lookfi took his leave, and Kurush and I were left alone together. I think the buriwok had fallen asleep. I found some newspapers on Juffin’s desk; some fresh, and others less recent. It’s good to be new in someone else’s world: the evening papers are as enthralling as a fantasy novel. The only difference is that you can open the door at any moment you please and go for a walk in this imaginary world.

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