The Stranger's Woes (8 page)

“Here, take my self-scribing tablets!” Anday thrust them at me. “Keep them in your office since you paid for the article. Don’t throw them away, though.”

“Wonderful,” I said with relief. “That way everyone will be happy. Good night, Anday.”

“Good night, Max.”

My new friend abandoned the “sir” rapidly and easily, as one should always part with empty formalities. That approach to things always sits well with me. Anday Pu could hardly have guessed that he had found the shortest path to my heart.

The penguinesque wonder disappeared temporarily from my life, and Captain Shixola materialized in his place.

“You really weren’t busy, Sir Max?”

“Really and truly. What’s going on?”

“Well, nothing worth taking you away from your work, but if you aren’t working on a case . . . I came to fill you in on a few rumors since—”

“About me again?” I grinned. “You know, I think that’s enough for the time being. I’m very impressionable, and right now I have to think about others. In the interests of the common good and state security.”

“No, Sir Max. This isn’t about you. It’s about those outlaws who are giving us the runaround just now. I know it will sound a bit crazy, but I think you ought to know about even this kind of nonsense. I first wanted to discuss the matter with Sir Juffin Hully, but I didn’t dare approach him with what are still just rumors. He’s a busy man.”

Right, I thought. A “busy man,” Juffin is. Especially recently. First he yawns. Then he takes a sip of kamra. Then he has a little chat with Kurush. A very busy man, indeed. But my inner monologue didn’t bear repeating out loud, so I kept quiet and nodded solemnly.

“I’m the one to bring your rumors to, you are quite right about that. Well, what are they?”

“Lately Kamshi and I have had the opportunity to interrogate many of the victims. I mean those who were relieved of some of the burden of their wealth—sizable sums—by the Magaxon Foxes. And those lucky ones who managed to get away and keep their belongings, as well. They have given us mountains of evidence, some of it useful and some of it garbage. And you know, a good fourth of these people claim that the outlaws are still in the service of none other than the late Sir Jiffa Savanxa. Same red hair, same horrible scar running from the nostrils down the to the chest.”

“A dead Sir Jiffa? Yes, that’s been known to happen,” I said, feigning wisdom.

“I think the explanation might be quite simple,” Shixola said. “You see, all the victims noticed that the leader of the Fox gang bore a striking resemblance to Sir Jiffa, but he looked like a much older version of him. This is not unlikely. First, coincidences occur all the time. Second, it’s likely that the new Magaxon leader wants to imitate the old one in any way possible. Then only one mystery remains: the scar. You know, in the Gugon Forest during the Epoch of Orders, Gaganova the Lemming led a band of outlaws. The fellow lost both of his ears in a single skirmish. Later he was killed, and his son, Gaganova the Cardsharp, became the leader. He hacked off his own ears to look more like his papa. This history of outlaw leaders cutting off their own ears continued for several centuries. There were several generations of Gaganovas, and they all hacked off their own ears until a sheriff of Gugon got wise and put a stop to these antics once and for all. Our gentlemen brigands are a romantic bunch, and for them Red Jiffa is like . . . like Loiso Pondoxo, for your clients.”

“I see. A symbol. Do you think he dyed his hair red, sliced his face, and all the rest?”

“More than likely. Jiffa never fell into the hands of your department while he was alive. It’s unlikely he would draw attention to himself when he was already dead. And yet . . .”

“What?”

“I guess it’s better to tell all, even if it sounds utterly mad. All these guys who swear up and down that Jiffa is alive knew him well in their time. One of them Jiffa had robbed before. Others were wined and dined by him in the
Golden Rams
. The ones who say he only looks like Jiffa are just going on hearsay. I don’t like these coincidences, Sir Max. We really ought to tell Sir Hully.”

“Can do. I’ll tell him in the morning. It’s no problem for me to wag my tongue. But are you sure that’s the only thing you want of him, Shixola? Be frank, now. It would ease your mind if one of us went with you, wouldn’t it?”

Shixola shrugged. “Of course, but—”

“But you don’t have the formal right to turn to us with an official request because when your boss is indisposed, only his deputy, Captain Foofloss, has that right. And you’d have to lure him out of the tavern and let him dry out a bit, which still solves only half the problem. Because then you have to explain to him a case that doesn’t hold water, at least not yet. And this task is too big even for fellows as clever as you and Kamshi. Am I right?”

“You’re a visionary, Sir Max,” said Shixola, smiling broadly.

“Yes, sometimes I even surprise myself.”

“Can you help us?”

“You know, Captain, if I had Boboota and Foofloss as my bosses, I would long ago have been slumbering in a hammock in a remote Refuge for the Mad. But not only do you not give up, you try to do some good. Shixola, I bow down before you. Oh, please don’t take that amiss. I’m not mocking you. It’s just a manner of expression. I mean it very sincerely. I’ll leave no stone unturned for you if it’s within my power. Sir Juffin, as far as I know, is already one of your biggest fans. So everything will be fine. When do you plan to start the spring cleaning of the Magaxon Forest?”

“Oh, we won’t wait till spring.”

“I was just asking when you were setting off to hunt down these Magaxon Foxcubs. Year, day, hour? It’s all the same to me, but Juffin Hully will be curious since he may be parting with his comrade-in-arms.”

“Thank you, Sir Max. You think he’ll agree to it?”

“Don’t you? Sir Juffin adores any flouting of official rigmarole and other acts of romantic daring.”

“Kamshi and I planned to set out for the border of the Magaxon Forest tomorrow night, arriving there by next morning. The rest of the boys are already there. They left Echo one by one. Now they’re passing the night in neighboring villages, collecting information, keeping an eye on things. If two dozen brawny fellows descended on a tiny hamlet in a big pack, it would look pretty suspicious, wouldn’t it? But if there’s just one lone guy snooping around each of the surrounding villages, it’s not going to surprise anyone. Praise be the Magicians, they wouldn’t even recognize your face, much less those of the city policemen, in the outlying regions. We’ll all gather in force the day after tomorrow, early in the morning. Then we’ll get down to work with a vengeance.”

“You’ve planned everything so well. But why morning and not night? Can’t your men see in the dark?”

Shixola bristled. “Are you joking again, Sir Max? All Ugulanders can see in the dark, even policemen. It’s just that, as you know, these outlaws usually come out in the morning. They’ve only been seen once or twice at night.” Shixola waved his hand dismissively.

I filled Captain Shixola’s mug with kamra and stared at him expectantly.

“Well, what it comes down to is that Kamshi and I are leaving tomorrow night,” he said after a long pause. “It’s about a four-hour drive there. And if Sir Juffin agrees . . . You know, Sir Max, I feel awkward asking this, but Kamshi and I would feel more comfortable if you . . . well, if Sir Juffin would let you be the one to accompany us.”

“Me? Why me? It seems to me that Sir Shurf Lonli-Lokli is the man you want. He’ll make you feel like you’re standing behind a brick wall.”

“Of course, you’re right. But with a person who once saved the life of Sir Shurf himself, one can feel even more secure. And it’s very easy to get along with you, in spite of your—”

“Warped sense of humor?” I gave a snort. Then I said, “Where did you get the idea that I saved someone’s life? More town gossip?”

“Sir Shurf and I are neighbors,” Shixola said. “You know, maybe I shouldn’t spread this around, but his wife is my little sister’s best friend. By the way, I didn’t mean to criticize the way you express yourself. I had something else in mind. Namely, that when a person wears the Mantle of Death, it’s hard to expect him to act like a regular person. But dealing with you is pure pleasure.”

“And that’s why you’re inviting me to the Magaxon Forest. For exemplary behavior.” I was flattered. “I think Juffin will let me go. He adores collecting adventures, especially if I’m the one going through them. And if I find one on my own, he’ll prepare us a basket with freshly baked pastries for the road, out of pure joy.”

Juffin was so happy to find out about my upcoming departure that I felt more like a mother-in-law than his loyal, beloved assistant.

“Splendid, Sir Max,” the boss said with a dreamy smile. “Fresh air, the good men of the City Police looking timidly into your eyes. I’d like to be in your shoes.”

“Fine, you’re welcome to them. What’s stopping you?”

“They didn’t invite me,” Juffin said. “Those mean policemen forgot to ask me to their picnic. And I’m proud by nature, so I refuse to beg.”

“What are you so glad about?” I said. “Are you that sick of me? I thought I cheered you up.”

“That you do,” Juffin said. “It’s always a barrel of laughs with you. I was afraid you were going to ask for a vacation, but after fun and games like this, your conscience will never permit it. And I’ll have a good excuse for sending you to the werewolves when you come to me with all your summer plans.”

“Ask for a vacation? Me? Magicians forbid.” I screwed my face up in disgust. “No way! I can’t survive more than three days without work. I start to suffer from imaginary aches and pains, and to bemoan my broken heart and wasted youth.”

“All the better, then. I’m curious to know whether you’ll be singing the same tune a few years from now.”

“It will be the same tune you’re singing. When did you last have a vacation? Five hundred years ago, when you were still young and foolish, I suppose?”

Juffin harrumphed. “Oh, no, five hundred years would be . . . but come to think of it . . . In any case, be careful in that forest. If you really do come face to face with some species of the living dead, though, I know you can take care of yourself. You seem to specialize in that lately.”

““Thanks. It’s okay as far as jobs go.”

Juffin smiled his caustic smile. Then he looked at me earnestly and shook his head. “Well, if things start going wrong, you’ll wriggle out of it, I’m sure. And if it’s your everyday band of brigands, they’ll just breathe fire, blow smoke out of their nostrils, and dive into the nearest trench. But I beg you, don’t show off. Don’t stand in the line of fire, and don’t lead a regiment of overzealous policemen into battle. You don’t know how to fire a Baboom anyway, and you’re as good a target as any other human being. But I have to admit, this affair smells strongly of Forbidden Magic.”

“Why is that? Did you have a presentiment?”

“None to speak of. But I’m familiar with Red Jiffa’s story. There was a time when he offered his services to me. Of course, it was back when they called me the Kettarian Hunter and not Sir Venerable Head. Jiffa had a very romantic nature—but not a shred of talent. Not cut out for this kind of work at all. So I sent him packing.”

“I wish I could have laid eyes on the Kettarian Hunter at least once,” I said dreamily. “It’s hard for me even to imagine.”

“There haven’t been any significant changes in me since that time, if you must know. Well, except that I look older. More distinguished. And I sleep more, of course. But it’s the unlucky victims upon whom I usually make the biggest impression, so you don’t stand much of a chance there, either.”