by Max Frei
“Of course it doesn’t,” the voice said. “It’s not my dream, either. Actually, it’s not even a dream. Just the silly fantasy of one lonely daydreamer. But it’s livable, as I’ve had the chance to find out for myself recently. And why aren’t you turning around? I’m not the most disgusting creature in the Universe, whatever Magician Nuflin may think of me.”
“I’m sorry. It seems this place inspires a peculiar form laziness,” I said. “I am a first-class idler, but until now I never thought one couldn’t be bothered to simply turn around.”
While I was saying all this, I managed to break the bondage of my gaze at the golden landscape. I felt I could move now, although I didn’t feel particularly inclined to do so. Good manners took precedence, though, and I turned to face my interlocutor.
He was sitting motionless on a small flat rock that shimmered and glistened with all shades of honey. The rock looked like a chunk of amber. The man sitting on top of it was of an indeterminate age. He wore loose white pants and a loose collarless shirt. On his feet he wore soft orange leather Uguland boots. His long, skinny arms with their large, strong hands were folded and resting on his knees. His appearance looked a little funny to me. I might have mistaken him for a fashionable beachgoer or a nutty dentist who had decided to open a practice in the middle of a vast desert. I couldn’t make out his face because of his long light hair. I took one glance at it and knew it was as coarse as metal wire. His appearance, however, didn’t matter. I knew who it was I had come face to face with in this strange place. I don’t know how I knew. I just did.
“Sir Loiso Pondoxo?” I said, my heart sinking. “The Grand Magician of the Order of the Watery Crow. Maybe you’ll be able to explain to me why your formidable Order had such a silly name. No one I’ve asked has yet given me an answer. I knew one day you’d appear somewhere right beside me.”
“Really? What made you think that?” His surprise seemed genuine.
“Not a day goes by that someone doesn’t mention your name to me,” I said.
“Well, that doesn’t explain anything. People mention lots of names.”
I tried to explain to him honestly what I’d always found inexplicable. “I’ve always had an unusual reaction to people mentioning your name. I’d either laugh like a lunatic or become completely despondent. I mean, it could go either way. Why else would I go from one extreme to the other if I hadn’t had this vague premonition?” I surprised myself with my excellent explanation.
“Funny,” he said. “See, I didn’t ask because I wanted to chat. My only shortcoming is that I’m not clairvoyant. I’ve never been good at it. This makes life more interesting and less predictable, but sometimes it’s a real obstacle. Believe it or not, I’ve never had a premonition in my entire life. I could never sense what was going to happen or what the outcome of an event would be. I could calculate or make an educated guess, but that’s an entirely different process. It’s hard for me to imagine how it all happens. You’re much luckier in that respect.”
He tossed back his long tangled hair and looked at me with bright, attentive eyes. His face looked very familiar, and a moment later I understood why. It was my face—well, almost my face. Sir Loiso Pondoxo looked exactly how I had wanted to look like when I had been young, back when I had believed that a small change in the size of my nose, the outline of my chin, or the shape of my eyes would make my life better.
I was shocked by this discovery, but then I remembered what Juffin had told me about this fellow only three dozen days ago. We had been talking about Tekki. According to Juffin, all Loiso Pondoxo’s children were “mirrors”—creatures that reflected their interlocutors. Juffin had said that talking to Tekki was akin to having a split personality. He then had said that Loiso himself had been the best “mirror”—“the most devastating kind of personal charm” had been what Juffin had said. I couldn’t agree with him more.
I decided not to tell Loiso that I knew his trick. Let him think that I’m dying to kiss the soles of his boots, I thought. Keeping a little secret had never been against my principles. Besides, I wasn’t really interested in his face. I wanted to grab my chance: I had a plethora of questions for this legendary man.
“So you survived?” I said, sitting down on the yellow grass. “Or did you die and this is your personal hell?”
“Both. Are you really interested?” he said.
“Of course I am. It’s not every day you get the chance to learn such a great mystery. Besides, I’ve suddenly got the chance to find out exactly what it is I’m dreaming about. I don’t know about anyone else, but this doesn’t happen to me too often.”
“You’re an amazingly frivolous person,” said Loiso, grinning. “I can imagine what you’ve heard about me from the Kettarian. What others say about me, I can’t even begin to guess—my imagination has its bounds. And yet you just sat down beside me and began this small talk. Is this bravery? Or is this a new form of madness that just came into fashion in the Capital of the Unified Kingdom?”
“The latter, I think—although, no. You just don’t reek of danger. For now, at least,” I said honestly.
“Will you look at him? Well, your nose hasn’t lied to you. I don’t reek of any danger,” he said and made a funny, helpless gesture. “But I will, and sooner rather than later.”
I smiled. Sir Loiso Pondoxo copied my gestures and intonations in a very cute and cunning fashion—just like his daughter. Juffin was right. I was lucky that the boss had found time to lecture me on this subject. That new information had added fire to the flame of my relationship with Tekki. How could it not, such an exotic little detail? But now I knew better than to melt under the “kind” gaze of her infamous daddy.
I was still in danger of melting, though, but for an altogether different reason: it was roasting hot here. Every minute it was getting hotter and hotter, which only reinforced my crazy hypothesis about this place being Loiso’s hell.
“Well, this is all fine and dandy,” I said, wiping the sweat from my face again, “but I’d like to wake up now, thank you very much. Just tell me whether I’m your guest or your prisoner. Because if I’m a prisoner, I’m going to have to start fumbling in the Chink between Worlds, hoping to get hold of a fan, or at least an ice cream cone.”
“Oh, this isn’t hot; it’s just very warm,” said Loiso mildly. “If you stayed in this World a little longer, you’d know the difference. To wake up, you just need to walk downhill a little. It’s very easy to walk away from me, Max. Especially for you. Trust me, the last thing I need is to quarrel with you. After all, you’re my first visitor since the day that Kettarian lured me into this trap.”
“He says he lured you into a disappearing World,” I said, “and that according to his calculations, you should’ve disappeared along with this place a long time ago. But you didn’t. Or did you?”
“No, I did not, as you can see,” said Loiso. “You and I find ourselves in that very disappearing World as we speak. It was born out of the dreams of one crazy old hag—an unbearable old bitch, you can take my word for it. There are many Worlds in the Universe that are born out of someone’s dreams. When Juffin pulled me in here, that lady was just about to die—very considerate of her. After her death, the World was supposed to disappear, taking me with it, it’s true. There was one thing that Juffin didn’t take into account, though: the vestiges of my powers were enough to render the old lady virtually immortal. I don’t know how long she’s going to linger, but it’s going to be much longer than people normally do. I can only feel for her heirs: they’re not getting anything, not in their lifetime. The funny thing is that the old hag has no idea why Death has been avoiding her. And she never will, I suppose.”
“I never thought I’d have to bring such news to Juffin,” I said. “I don’t know which he’s going to like best: the news itself, or the fact that I’m going to be bringing it. Because I’m going to tell him, even if you don’t want me to. You know, Sir Loiso, I have this nasty habit of telling him everything. I
t’s like a tic—I can’t help it.”
“Of course you will tell him,” said Loiso. “I wouldn’t have let you in this place if that mattered one way or the other. I’ve become quite used to things here. Adapting to them has been my only pastime and the only way to fill my endless leisure hours. Juffin made sure I couldn’t leave this World, and I made sure no one could enter it uninvited. It’s not a lot, but it’s something. So you can tell Juffin anything you wish. You can even make a few things up—I don’t mind. I think he probably knows I’m still kicking, and I suspect he had left this little chance for me to stay alive on purpose: he desperately wanted to watch me try and get out of here. Do you know what they called him when he was sheriff in his hometown?”
“What?” I said.
“They called him a chiffa,” said Loiso and gave me a long look. “Right, you probably don’t know what a chiffa is. A chiffa is a small silvery fox that lives in the mountains of County Shimara. A very cunning critter. It’s so cunning that it’s almost impossible to catch him. There is only one way: chiffas are as curious as they are cunning. If a hunter stops behaving like a hunter and begins to do something out of the ordinary, like standing on his head or juggling with his own boots, for example, then there’s a chance that a chiffa will leave his hideout to see what’s going on. But this will only trick young, inexperienced chiffas. Old chiffas will only buy a real miracle. Back in the old days, there were plenty of good sorcerers among Shimarian hunters. They went to great lengths to get hold of the chiffa’s silvery fur.”
“I see,” I said.
“Well, in that case, you may also see why I don’t think the Kettarian will be too surprised to learn that I’m still alive. Deep down, he’s probably hoping that I am. It’s very much in his character to poke his curious nose out of his burrow and see what I’m going to do in a desperate situation. I actually quite like his attitude.”
“So do I,” I said. “You know, Loiso, I’m really interested and all that, but I don’t think this climate is good for me. So if you don’t mind, I’m going to go ahead and take your advice and start walking down this hill. I can only imagine how ‘well rested’ I’m going to be when I wake up.”
“Of course, you should go,” he said. “See you.”
“Is that an invitation or a warning?” I said. I was on the verge of collapse from the heat. I only managed to stay on my feet because of my inborn stubbornness. The last thing I wanted was to ask Sir Loiso Pondoxo to take me in his arms and carry me where I needed to go. I really liked him, and that meant that I’d be desperate to show off and strut my stuff in front of him—at any cost.
“It’s a bit of both, an invitation and a warning,” said Loiso. “But I don’t think I’ll have to go out of my way to have you over here again. You’re even more willing to stick your curious nose out of your foxhole than your guardian. You’re still a cub.”
“True, that,” I said. “Next time, though, try to assume the appearance of some beautiful girl from my adolescent dreams. I think there are plenty of wonderful specimens in the corners of my memory. You never know, maybe I’ll like you even more.” I was beginning to be really brazen—a sure sign that I was feeling really bad.
“There’s no need to go that far,” said Loiso. “You love yourself more than anyone else.”
“Touché,” I said, taking my first unsteady step down the hill. “Never mind me, I’m just being a young Turk. I hope you like having my face on yours.” My head was spinning, I swayed as if drunk, and my thinking fared no better.
“What’s a Turk?” the Grand Magician Loiso Pondoxo shouted to my back.
Funny. His daughter had once asked me the very same question. I couldn’t answer: I was laughing and that depleted the rest of my energy. My vision went blank, but I continued to walk down the hill until I tripped over a clump of dry grass and fell, rolling head over heels . . .
. . . and finally sucked in a draft of cool air. Praise be whoever should be praised, I was lying peacefully under the blanket in the semidarkness of Tekki’s bedroom. She was lying next to me, sleeping like a baby. All was well.
I looked out the window. The sun had just appeared in the sky. That meant that I had slept for no more than an hour. Who would’ve thought? Then I looked at my hands and saw fresh scratches on my palms. I had just gotten them in my dream when I clutched at the sharp dry tufts of grass, but the scratches were very real.
Well, what did I expect? That my encounter with Loiso Pondoxo had been one of those dreams one could discuss with a shrink and then painlessly forget? I was mad at myself. I hid the evidence of my romantic journey under the blanket and put my head on the pillow—my pillow this time. After a short but educational walk in the personal hell of the Grand Magician Loiso Pondoxo, I was feeling wretched and needed some real sleep, the kind of deep sleep I usually got when I returned home from a long, hard shift at work. In a sense, that was what had happened.
I fell asleep again, this time without any dreams, which was for the better. I didn’t get much sleep, but when I woke up from Tekki’s tender and somewhat hesitant touch, I realized I felt great. I also realized that the last thing I wanted was for her to find out that Sir Loiso Pondoxo had invaded my dreams right after I had put my head on her pillow. As if she needed to deal with my stupid problems on top of the consequences of the strange legacy she would have to deal with for the rest of her life. My story was good for Juffin and Juffin alone.
I looked into her calm, still sleepy eyes and listened to my two hearts knocking. The mysterious muscles were pumping blood through their arteries and didn’t seem to bother my head with bad premonitions. It was clear that Tekki had no clue about my encounter with Loiso. Good. I had other plans for the morning.
I had kept my promise not to wake up Juffin until noon even if the sky fell. I considered my heart-to-heart talk with Loiso to be an even more serious disaster, but the boss deserved the chance to have a good night’s sleep. It was way past noon when I sent him a call.
I desperately need to have lunch with you, Juffin.
Really? You sure go out of your way to save a crown or two.
Guilty as charged. Seriously, though, Juffin, I must talk to you. And you must talk to me. You just don’t know it, yet.
I suppose so. Otherwise you wouldn’t have troubled yourself with Silent Speech. Fine, come to the Glutton. I’ve been sitting here for several minutes already.
Uh, actually, my news will require a more intimate setting. I was planning to deliver it in the office. Better yet, in your detention cell with all your magic bolts bolted.
Nonsense, Max. Trust me, the walls of the Glutton Bunba are just as good at absorbing horrible secrets.
“Tekki, I’m off,” I said. “I have a feeling this is going to be one heck of a day. I don’t know when I’m going to be back. Maybe I’ll drop by in a couple of hours—where else can I get some kamra without paying for it? Or maybe I’ll come back in a year with a beard down to my belt, apologize, and say I accidentally went on a trip around the world.” I smiled, remembering Captain Giatta. Right, I had that case to deal with, too.
“Beards don’t grow that fast,” said Tekki. “If you want to boast a long beard, you’ll have to stay away a dozen years at least. But I don’t think it’s necessary—the beard, I mean.”
“I sure hope so,” I said. “Beards only trap food crumbs.” I ran outside. Another minute in Tekki’s company and I’d think that my talk with Juffin could wait.
Because I had returned home in a company amobiler yesterday, my own amobiler was still on the Street of Copper Pots by the walls of the Ministry of Perfect Public Order. This was no longer a problem, however. After Sir Lonli-Lokli and I had combined our efforts to destroy my first amobiler, I had lived almost a dozen days without any transportation. When I had finally gotten to the place that sold them, the variety of amobilers on the market had made me drunk. Without giving it a second thought, I had bought a few, thinking that I couldn’t have too many, given my lifestyle.
Today it turned out that my risky investment had been a farsighted one. Instead of ripping my hair out and crying, I took one of my spares and drove to the Old City, feeling quite content and somewhat perplexed by my own coolness: I had more or less gotten used to being a powerful sorcerer, but I’d probably never get used to being rich.
Sir Juffin Hully was sitting at our favorite table in the Glutton Bunba. “Sir Max has shown up in double-quick time, as usual,” he said to the pitcher in front of him. Then he looked at me and smiled. “Max, your face suggests that you’re going to tell me something extraordinary. Something along the lines of Loiso Pondoxo coming back to life.”
“So you know?” I said.
“I was joking,” said Juffin. “And so were you, I hope.” He stopped short and gave me a look that was a mixture of mockery and surprise. “Hold on a second, you’re not joking, are you?”
“No, I’m not,” I said. “So should I spit it out here, or should I wait until you’ve finished lunch and returned to the House by the Bridge?”
“Spit it out here. Makes no difference where one hears news like that.”
And I told him everything, beginning with the moment I put my silly head on Tekki’s pillow and ending with my showing Juffin the scratches on my palms.
“Why were you clutching at the sinning grass to begin with?” Juffin said. “To prove it to me later on?”
“Do you think I’m really that smart?” I said. “I grabbed it mechanically, without really thinking about it. I couldn’t think straight by that time. It was real heatstroke. You have no idea how hot it was there.”
“Oh, but I do,” said Juffin. “I’ve been there.”
“Right,” I said. “Well, how do you like the news?”
