The Stranger's Woes

by Max Frei

  About thirty years ago?

  No, I mean the time of day. He was killed about an hour after sundown—just the time it is now. Try to capture him as soon as possible. Toward morning his powers will increase again.

  Ah, I see. Now it all made sense. But is time always so significant for them?

  Yes, it is. Every living corpse grows weaker at the hour of his death, then gradually gathers strength until the sun travels half the sky. I wouldn’t want you to have to catch him at dawn, as you tried to do this morning. So hurry it up.

  If only it really depended on me.

  Who else could it depend on? It depends on you alone.

  “We’re almost there.” Melamori clutched at my looxi. “Here’s the lair. But I can’t call him like I did this morning. I don’t know why, but it’s not working.”

  We’re here, I told Juffin. I mean, we’re at the lair but not inside.

  Don’t worry, you won’t get lost with Chvaxta. Keep an eye on him, though. He’s a very reliable fellow, though not much of a warrior.

  As if I am. Okay, over and out.

  Over. Have a nice trip.

  I shook my head. A nice trip, is it now? Some of Juffin’s quotes should be recorded in a notebook for posterity.

  “Well, what did he say?” Melamori said anxiously. She crouched down next to an enormous boulder overgrown with moss. Sir Chvaxta Chiyam peered into a crevice behind the rock with an expert eye.

  “He says we’re lucky. Jiffa’s weak as a baby now, so this is the moment to go after him. He’ll perk up again toward morning.”

  “Let’s hurry.” Melamori turned to the forester. “Do you know this entrance?”

  “Of course. I know them all.”

  “Come on,” I said. “Melamori, you go first, and I’ll follow. And you, Sir Chvaxta, follow right behind me so that I don’t get lost.”

  “How could you possibly get lost?” Melamori said.

  “Well, I’m not at all sure I can find my way in the dark. So I’m not the best companion at a moment like this.”

  “Give me a break!”

  And Melamori crawled down into the passage leading to the lair, with me close on her heels. The noisy breathing of our silent guide behind me assured me that he hadn’t given way to a sudden urge to go home and drink a mug of kamra.

  Crawling on all fours through an underground passageway stimulates the imagination. I felt as if Melamori and I were entering the Underworld. In search of a dead person, no less. “Abandon all hope, ye who enter here!” My sentiments exactly.

  I couldn’t help turning around and stealing a glance at our guide. His round eyes glittered in the darkness like two red flashlights. His face looked far older and more formidable than it did by daylight. I even shuddered: this man didn’t resemble Virgil at all.

  “You’re Charon, Sir Chvaxta. The spitting image!” I said.

  It’s stupid, of course, to introduce references from a distant culture at a moment like this, but I was agitated. The words flew out of my mouth before I was aware of it.

  “Why did you call me that, Sir Max?” the forester said politely.

  “Because you’re leading us to the Underworld.” What else could I tell him?

  “Oh, I understand,” the remarkable man said without skipping a beat.

  I smiled. He understands, huh? Well, I’ll be.

  The passage, in the meantime, had opened up and become high enough to stand up in.

  “Soon it will get even larger,” Sir Chvaxta said.

  “I hope so,” I said, trying to wipe off my hands, soiled from crawling through the passageway down to Hades.

  Strange, it didn’t pose any problem for me to follow Melamori, although it was pitch-black. Can I really see in the dark? I wondered. It was a curious thing. It was as dark as a dungeon, yet I had no trouble seeing what I really needed to see.

  Meanwhile, Melamori was tapping and stamping lightly, feeling her way forward with her feet. I felt uneasy. Our clients were no doubt planning an evening of entertainment and unpleasant surprises to help us while away the time.

  “Are they close by, Melamori?”

  “Not yet. But I can sense that they’re sticking to one spot. They’re getting ready, I suppose. Maybe Jiffa is getting weaker and now feels as rotten as I felt this morning. I only wish.”

  “Be careful, okay? Like you always are, but more so. I don’t like this ‘second client’ one bit.”

  “He’s probably some bona fide Mutinous Magician,” Melamori said dreamily. “But never mind, you’ll just spit at him, and everything will be fine, right? Your poison kills anyone who isn’t already dead, doesn’t it?”

  “I hope so. The main thing is for them to attack first.”

  “They already did attack first,” Melamori said. “Anyway, you haven’t seen me fight yet!”

  “I can imagine,” I said, grinning and rubbing my elbow, which had been sore since the morning.

  We turned to the left. Then the path twisted sharply to the right. Now we were making loops in what had become a true labyrinth, and I could no longer keep track of where we were. I looked hopefully at our guide.

  “Will you be able to find the way back?”

  “The way back? Do you already need to return?”

  “No, no. Afterward, I mean.”

  “We’ll get out of here somehow, don’t worry,” Chvaxta Chiyam said, with a dismissive wave of the hand.

  We padded along, zigzagging through the underground realm. My companions were silent. By this time, I had no idea where we were or how we had come, but I trudged on behind Melamori, as though it were the whole point of our journey, and of my own existence besides.

  “They’re around here. Very close by,” Melamori said. “Max, please help me stop. I really don’t have much self-restraint, and it’s not a place to rush into so eagerly. They are well prepared . . . She is, I mean.”

  “She?” My surprise didn’t prevent me from grabbing Melamori in a rough embrace. This was a crude but reliable way to stop her in her tracks. She shrugged me off in annoyance.

  “Thanks. You’re so ardent and efficient. Yes, it’s a she. Why are you so surprised, Max? Your man, the second client, is a woman. I know that for a fact at this point. Very bad for us.”

  “Why bad?”

  Melamori sighed. “A woman presents a problem. A woman, even your average Echo city girl, can wreak havoc that you men can’t even dream of when she’s afraid.”

  “Excellent. We’ll have a contest—who can wreak the greatest havoc from fear, she or I.” I laughed nervously. “Is she pretty? I’ve got to get a life somehow!”

  “Very funny,” Melamori said. “As for her looks, you’re about to find out for yourself.”

  She tried to hurry her pace in spite of my efforts to hold her back. She even jabbed me lightly in the stomach with her elbow.

  “Take it easy, my darling. You’re the one who asked me to hold you,” I said.

  “I’m not yours, and I’m not a darling!” Melamori said, flaring up.

  “Fine. You are someone else’s, and you’re a shrew,” I said.

  At that, Melamori burst out laughing and slackened her pace. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I got carried away. Now you know just what I was talking about!”

  “Well, let’s just say I can imagine it,” I said. “Say, isn’t it time for you to take shelter behind my big strong shoulders? I’m planning to spit poison and all that.”

  “We’ll walk side by side,” Melamori insisted. “You never know who should go first when Lonli-Lokli’s not around.”

  “Yes, his presence solves a lot of problems. It’s too bad he’s not here with us.”

  “We’ll manage,” Melamori said with a toss of her head.

  Then she took me by the hand, and we advanced toward the other couple, no less strange than we were. There was another twist in the passage, then one more . . .

  I didn’t realize what was happening: a mild but unexpected blow to the throat, an un
pleasant grinding sound, a burning sensation as though a flaming scarf had encircled my neck. My breath stopped for a moment. I plunged through the darkness gasping for breath, but couldn’t reach the bottom, and in panic I grappled to reach the surface. Finally I burst through and was able to take my first gulp of air.

  Everything ended as suddenly as it had begun. I was trembling violently—the usual reaction of someone who has been frightened to death. My throat and neck were still burning, but I could afford to ignore it since I knew the cause.

  Melamori, screaming in a strange, guttural voice, let go of my hand and ran to take shelter behind the next bend in the passage. I tore after her.

  There a new kind of darkness awaited us. In contrast to the former, almost tame gloom defined by the low ceilings of the passageway, here the nearly infinite blackness of open space reigned. As before, however, despite the cover of darkness, I could see everything I needed to see. I saw Melamori’s bare foot planted in the stomach of a fair-haired woman whose outstretched arms shone with a livid glow. This malign luster was wrapping itself around Melamori’s head like a hazy cloud.

  I froze in horror. Something dreadful was happening. I couldn’t have explained what it was, but I knew it was appalling.

  A moment later the woman was lying on the ground. Melamori was a consummate fighter! But the blow that had felled the predator changed nothing. The pale haze that circled Melamori’s head grew more and more viscous. I shouted in a frantic voice and almost mechanically snapped the fingers of my left hand, aiming my Lethal Sphere at the woman. Now I knew exactly what I wanted from her: I needed her to save Melamori by sticking her own head into the sinning mist. For some reason I never doubted that this was the only way.

  The green sphere of lightning struck the forehead of the woman with a sickening thwack. She raised her eyes and looked at me with serene, unadulterated hatred. To be honest, it was a marvelous sight. But almost immediately her fiery gaze was extinguished. Her eyes grew dull and remote. The malevolent beauty stretched out her arm in front of her. The hazy cloud began to tremble and then disperse.

  “Don’t destroy it. Take it back!” I roared, getting ready to snap my deadly fingers again just in case.

  The woman shuddered. Her hands fluttered up around her temples, the pale haze thickened around her own head, and she went limp.

  “That’s better,” I said. “It’s so satisfying to bring an experiment to its logical conclusion and watch what happens.”

  “What is happening, Max? Are you alive?” Melamori was sitting on the ground, looking around in bewilderment, but she seemed to have come through the ordeal unscathed.

  Praise be the Magicians, it’s over, I thought. I had no strength to utter a single word out loud. I looked at Melamori and smiled from ear to ear with relief.

  A powerful jolt knocked me off my feet. What a fool I was to assume it was all over! An explosive din, the terrified scream of Melamori, and my own howls of indignation and outrage all combined to produce a short but heart-rending avant-garde piece for two voices and firearm.

  There was no pain, though theoretically I should have been writhing in agony just about now. But no, my body had not yet had time to register it. This didn’t prevent me from sitting on the floor and staring with dull interest at a rent in my looxi, at the blood and splinters of glass covering my clothing. Sinning Magicians, what blood? My fingers were drenched in priceless Elixir of Kaxar. There was some blood, but just a little. A few shards of the bottle had grazed my skin, nothing more.

  “Aaiiie! You deceased filth, you!” Melamori threw herself at Jiffa, whom I had somehow forgotten about completely, and fastened onto him with a deadly grip. “Max, he shot you with the Baboom, can you believe it? I might have expected anything but this! This is going too far.”

  “I’ll say. But we’re dealing with a beast, after all.”

  “Yes, a beauty and a beast. What did you do to her, by the way?”

  “I’m still not sure. Let me edge over here a bit closer. Now then, take that!”

  I snapped the fingers of my left hand, and a green ball of lightning sped straight toward Jiffa’s forehead. I was determined not to kill the red-haired robber before he could answer my questions. He didn’t die. He went limp, just as I had hoped.

  “I am with you, Master,” Jiffa said.

  Melamori sighed with relief and left the brigand in peace.

  “I guess your shields didn’t work, Jiffa,” I said. “Talk about bragging! Well, sit here quietly, you abomination.” And I turned to the woman. “Well, how are we feeling now? Not too well, I hope.”

  “Max, whatever did you do to her?” Melamori bent over our exquisite victim. There was a slightly hysterical note in her voice.

  “I’m telling you, I don’t know. Oh, sinning Magicians!” I gasped.

  I was finally able to get a good look at my handiwork. A beautiful female body was lying on the ground, sheathed in a black looxi, but its head was that of a bird. It was a dead bird’s head, with a pitiful, half-open predator’s beak.

  “I’ve never seen anything like it!” Melamori whispered. “How did you do it?”

  “I didn’t do anything. She did it herself!” I said. “I just convinced her that she needed to try her experiment on herself first, not another person. I think it’s only fair. Look at my neck, by the way! It hurts like the devil.”

  “It’s a burn,” Melamori said, shaking her head in sympathy. “It’s unpleasant but nothing serious if you consider that otherwise your head might have been around the corner, some distance away from your body.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Don’t you understand what happened? However did you stay alive at all?”

  “But what was it?” Suddenly I was gripped with fear, though it was already too late for this. In fact it was time to rejoice that it was all behind me.

  “It was . . . Oh, Max, they launched the Thin Death at you! Haven’t you ever heard of it?”

  I shook my head. “What kind of odious thing is it?”

  “It’s a steel plate, much thinner than a human hair, almost invisible. It homes in on the victim by itself, so it doesn’t even require any special skill from the one who launches it. It always slices off the head; it has absolutely no interest in other parts of the body. During the Epoch of Orders it was the most renowned weapon, though still very rare. Only a few of the Orders had preserved the tradition of using it. It’s a terrible thing! When I saw the rainbow-colored sheen around your neck, I almost lost my mind. Oh, Max, I’m so glad you’re all right!” Then Melamori sniffed loudly and wiped her nose.

  “Well, we’re on the same page there,” I said with absolute sincerity, stroking my burning neck absently. Then it dawned on me. “You know, I’m the luckiest person in the Universe!” My voice cracked and a slight sob escaped. My imagination is too obliging, so the vision of my own head a few feet away from my body hovered before my mind’s eye. I must admit, it was a sad sight.

  “Did you just realize that?”

  “No, but do you know what I did before I left home?”

  “What?”

  “I donned my talisman—the kerchief of the Grand Magician of the Order of the Secret Grass. It’s something Juffin entrusted to me, and after my return from Kettari he told me never to fall asleep without wearing it. In short, I thought our little hike might turn out to be a protracted affair and I would want to take a snooze at some point. And since I’m so scatterbrained, I put it on right away, just in case. Now the old rag is gone. I guess it burned up along with the Thin Death, or whatever it’s called.”

  “The kerchief of Grand Magician Xonna?” Melamori frowned. “Yes, Max, you are incredibly lucky. Xonna’s kerchief is probably the only thing that could protect you from the Thin Death.”

  “Ah, so that’s his name. It’s the first time I’ve ever heard it.”

  “That’s because hardly anyone knows it. And whoever knows it has no desire to speak the name aloud. You see, the Order of th
e Secret Grass was renowned for its methods of defense. The members were very peace-loving people, compared to those in other Orders. They never attacked first, but they knew thousands of defense tactics against any danger or threat—including the Thin Death, luckily for you. As for the name of the Grand Magician, you can utter it out loud only if you are well disposed toward him. Otherwise you’ll die on the spot, and no wisewoman or healer can save you. It’s one of his little eccentricities.”

  “And yet you risk it?” I asked, alarmed.

  “Oh, it’s no risk for me. Grand Magician Xonna was one of my childhood heroes. And since his kerchief saved your life, I’d even throw myself at his feet if he showed up here!”

  “Thank you, Melamori.” Her confession just about left me speechless. “But where is he now, this Man with the Terrible Name? What is he doing?”

  “No one knows. He went off to wander somewhere. In the very heat of the battle for the Code, he lost interest in the whole business. He announced that practicing magic in Uguland, the very Heart of the World, was without merit. A true wizard must acquire his powers in the back of beyond. In short, he abandoned everything and left his men to deal with the mess of war by themselves. But why am I telling you all this? Ask Melifaro—all his relatives were in thick with the Order of the Secret Grass. If it weren’t for the Code, our Melifaro would be one of the Junior Magicians there.”

  “I’ll ask him about it,” I said. “Hey, where’s our guide, the marvelous Sir Chvaxta?”

  “I have no idea,” Melamori said, looking around uneasily. “Could he have run off without us?”

  “Juffin told me to keep an eye on him because he wasn’t much of a warrior. As if we had time for keeping an eye on him! I’ll bet he’s already home by now.”

  Melamori gave a hearty laugh. I reflected for a moment, then chimed in. We sat on the ground at the feet of the surrealistic corpse with the bird’s head and howled with laughter. It was impossible to stop ourselves, but after the adventures we had just had, it was no wonder.

  “Chvaxta is very lucky that you didn’t kill Jiffa. If you had, there would have been only one way to get out of here: standing on the trace of that deserter. Maybe we should punish the coward anyway?”