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The Stranger's Woes

Page 15

by Max Frei


  “No, we must spare Chvaxta. He’s a funny fellow.”

  “Funny, yes.” Melamori smiled uncertainly.

  “Well, shall we go get a bit of fresh air?” I said.

  “I’d love to! Call your trusty slave.”

  “Here Jiffa,” I ordered.

  The sad, red-haired dead man who had caused us so much trouble approached obediently.

  “Take us up to the surface. By the shortest route. Understand?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  I helped Melamori off the ground, and Jiffa led the way into the depths of the spacious underground chamber.

  Melamori was still contemplating the deceased dame with the bird’s head. “She wanted to turn me into that, didn’t she, Max?”

  “Who else was there but you? She thought I was already a goner. But don’t dwell on it. It didn’t happen.”

  “How did you deal with her?”

  “Exactly how I dealt with the other undead. Lonli-Lokli says the Lethal Sphere obeys my inner desires. And in the depths of my soul, according to his theory, I don’t want to kill people so much as to subjugate their wills like any run-of-the-mill tyrant or despot. Luckily, Shurf is an excellent theoretician.”

  “That’s for sure. And you, praise be the Magicians, are good at putting theory into practice. I wonder who she is? I feel that I know her from somewhere.”

  “Who is this woman, Jiffa?” I asked my vassal.

  “Lady Tanna Kuraisa, Master.”

  “Yes, of course! It’s Magician Atva’s sister,” Melamori said. “He dragged her into this mess. What a wretch!”

  “Did he lure her into it, or did she lure him, Jiffa?” I said. “Tell us how it was.”

  “Lady Tanna was in love with me,” Jiffa said impassively. “I spent a few nights with her, but I attached no significance to it. When the retired Magicians deprived me of my band of men, Tanna forced her brother to find a way to return my life to me. Tanna was quite a witch herself: she had been brought up by the women of the Order of Grilles and Mirrors. But she had no knowledge of how to revive the dead. The women of the Orders are rarely taught how to do such trivial things. Atva feared her very much. At first his sister threatened to kill him for taking part in the hunt, but she spared him when he agreed to help her. As you can see, Atva restored my life to me, but he did a poor job of it. It would have been better if he had left well enough alone . . . At first I was just a moribund puppet like the rest of the undead. I wasn’t the real Jiffa Savanxa. So I don’t know how I lived in those first years. I simply don’t remember. But Tanna didn’t waste any time. She was a fast learner. Little by little, drop by drop, she returned my real life to me until at last I had become the person I was before they killed me. That happened early one morning in autumn, almost six years ago. I remember the day well. A cold wind was blowing, so strong the branches broke off the trees and fell to the ground, and a strange bird was screeching in the yard.” Jiffa went silent, then murmured, “Now Tanna is dead, and almost nothing remains of me. It must be that some spells die with their conjurors.”

  “Well, you’re in a fine mess,” I said with real sympathy. “That’s what you call ‘love unto the grave.’ And beyond, too. What all-conquering passion! All right, Jiffa. I think I understand your story, but who revived the others?”

  “I did,” Jiffa said blandly. “Magician Atva helped me a little. It wasn’t very hard. But I couldn’t make them as they were before, and Tanna didn’t want me to. She didn’t like the whole affair.”

  “Didn’t like it?” I said in surprise. “She started the whole thing herself!”

  “Tanna only wanted me. She thought if she restored my life to me I would stay with her forever, grateful and submissive. But I wanted to go back to the Magaxon Forest. I missed my former way of life. There was always a sense of something lacking, something that would make me feel completely alive again if I could only find it, and I thought—”

  “You thought that if you went back to the forest and gathered your band of men around you, everything would be just as it used to be?”

  “Yes,” Jiffa said. “But nothing came of it. I found stupid puppets in place of my former merry men, and an emptiness in my chest in place of my former joyous heart. That’s the worst thing—knowing something could be much better than it really is. Tell me, are you going to kill me now?”

  “Probably. What else can I do with you?”

  “That’s good,” he nodded, pleased.

  Meanwhile, the earthen vaults were pressing down on us. Soon we had to begin crawling on our hands and knees. Then we emerged outside again and found ourselves in the same ravine where we had had our little picnic earlier that morning. Or in another one that looked just like it.

  It was dark, damp, and very dank. While we had been wandering through the lairs of the Magaxon brigands, here, on the surface of the earth, it had been raining. I started shivering from the cold, and Melamori’s teeth chattered. Only Jiffa remained unaffected by the climatic inconsistencies.

  “Where is our amobiler? That’s what I’d like to know.” Melamori looked around angrily. “Grrr, just wait till I get my hands on that so-called guide.”

  “I’ve got a bag there with warm things,” I said, and turned to face Jiffa. “Show us the entrance to the lair that you and Lady Tanna used earlier today.”

  “As you wish.”

  He turned around and marched into a thicket with a determined stride. We followed after him. Wet branches lashed at our faces, and mud squelched under our feet.

  “I sent a call to Sir Juffin, Max,” Melamori said. “I told him everything was fine. I described what happened—without all the details, of course. We’ll get around to those later. I wanted to know whether we should deliver Jiffa to the House by the Bridge.”

  “And?”

  “He said no,” Melamori said.

  “That’s good. Why should he go back to Echo, a place he never really loved? Let him die here in his own forest, where he already died once before.”

  Jiffa, meanwhile, had stopped by the enormous boulder that marked the entrance to the lair.

  “Here we are,” he said. “Is that all? Will you kill me now?”

  “Hold on a minute. Take us to the amobiler. Do you remember where you dumped it?”

  “Yes.” Jiffa set out hurriedly along a little footpath.

  “Have you really found out everything you needed to know from him?” Melamori asked.

  “I sure haven’t! Thanks for reminding me. Where did you hide the treasures you robbed, Jiffa? In the lair?”

  “No. We gave it to Atva, and he took it all away. I never even asked him where. Maybe he squandered it all—I don’t know. It didn’t matter to us. We didn’t need it. We just robbed because we were used to that way of life.”

  “And who killed those who took part in the Royal Hunt? I mean all those Junior Magicians who killed you and your men back in the day?”

  “No one killed them. Tanna cast a spell on them when she knew for certain that they had done her a disservice. She realized I would never be the way I used to be, and wouldn’t stay with her, either. The women of the Order of Grilles and Mirrors know how to conjure, that they do. Tanna staged her brother’s death just to deflect suspicions. Someone might have wondered why, of all the hunters chasing down the Magaxon Foxes, only Atva remained alive. Besides, she was afraid they would catch me and there would be dire consequences for her and her brother. Tanna was very angry with Atva and me when we revived the others and took up robbing again. Strange, isn’t it? She must really have loved me—even the person I became only through her efforts. She stopped short of nothing. Atva died soon after you stepped on his trace. He always was a weakling. But Tanna—it didn’t affect her in the least. It only made her furious. Well, here we are. There are the amobilers. I’m very tired. I feel that I’m fading away altogether. Soon there won’t be anything left of me at all, only an inane walking and talking body, as stupid as all the others. I’m frightened! Bette
r kill me while I’m still here.”

  “All right.”

  I felt no pity for Jiffa, but I was on his side in this story. I hate coercion, and what they had done to him seemed to me to be the worst form of coercion imaginable. I looked at the face of the red-haired robber, still beautiful but carved with wrinkles and gash-like scars, and I chuckled grimly to myself. Yeah, it’s dangerous to be a ladies’ man.

  That’s when I made my decision.

  “I order you to become the real Jiffa Savanxa,” I said firmly, with no second thoughts but not really understanding what I was doing. “I order you to vacate this World, to discover the place where Jiffa Savanxa will be happy, and to become him there. Come on, mate, do it!”

  Dead Jiffa’s dull eyes flashed with evil, joyous fire. He stared at me with hatred and admiration at the same time. Then he collapsed in the grass, bellowing not so much in pain as in ecstasy, and disappeared.

  I slumped down on the ground, wiping the cold sweat from my forehead. I felt sicker than I had ever felt before.

  “Max, what’s all this about?” Melamori said in horror. “What have you done?”

  “I don’t really know,” I said. “I think I may have restored justice. I think I acted right, but then why do I feel so wretched? And the bottle of Elixir of Kaxar shattered. Thanks to our dead redhead, by the way.”

  “Is it that bad?”

  “Well, not so bad. Fair to middling bad. I just don’t have an ounce of strength left, that’s all.”

  “Why do you need to be strong now? We’re going home. I’ll take the levers, and you can lie down in the back seat. Sleep a little bit if you wish. Everything is over, isn’t it?”

  “I hope so. Help me stand up. I’m so dizzy.”

  Melamori held out her hand to me. Easily, as though I weighed nothing, she lifted me up from the wet grass and helped me into the amobiler. She climbed into the driver’s seat. I stretched out in the back. I had to stick my legs out the window, but this pose was very much to my liking. I closed my eyes and got ready to dive into sweet slumber.

  “Max, it won’t start!” Melamori yelped, jolting me out of my blissful paralysis.

  “Why? What could be wrong?” I groaned.

  “Probably something with the crystal. It could have shattered from the impact of our crash. Let me take a look.”

  I heard the door slam, the hood creak as it opened reluctantly, and a few mild curses, after which the lady returned to her spot in the driver’s seat.

  “Just as I thought. It’s broken, the rotten stinker!” she fumed.

  “This is bad.” I drew myself up into a sitting position and paused to think. Actually, there was nothing to think about. The magic crystal is the heart of the amobiler. Without it the sinning buggy won’t move an inch.

  “I’ll have to send a call to Juffin,” I said wearily. “Someone will have to come after us. It’s not the end of the world.”

  “All the same, it’s frustrating.” Suddenly Melamori almost jumped out of the seat. “Look, Max, someone’s coming!”

  I tried to brace myself, just in case. You never know who might come along.

  “Is that you? Where did you both rush off to? I was looking everywhere for you underground,” Chvaxta the forester said, sticking his head through the window. “Is everything okay? Do you want some nuts?” A handful of damp nuts rained down on the seat, and a few rolled onto the floor.

  Melamori and I looked at each other in astonishment, then burst out laughing. This was too much!

  “Do you have an amobiler, Sir Chvaxta?” Melamori asked.

  “Yes, at home, of course. Why don’t you want to go home in this one? You don’t like it?”

  “Like it?” Melamori giggled. “Sinning Magicians, our crystal shattered!”

  “Really? That’s strange,” the forester said, shaking his head. “Well, let’s go to my place.”

  “Is it far?” I said.

  “No. Close. An hour and a half by foot, not more.”

  “No way! Thank you very much, but no. I’m just spent. I couldn’t make it that far if my life depended on it. How about this: you go home, get the amobiler, and come back for us. Sound good?”

  “Okay. I’ll be back in two hours. But don’t go anywhere without me. You might get lost.”

  “Do you think he’ll come back?” Melamori said when the forester had disappeared into the undergrowth. “Maybe it would be better to send Juffin a call. It would take them five hours or so to get here, but they are certainly more reliable.”

  “Let’s just hope Chvaxta keeps his promises. The guy is completely nuts, but he came to us with Juffin’s stamp of approval.”

  “I think it must have been one of our boss’s more questionable jokes. Did you hear him ask us where we had rushed off to?”

  “All the same, I think he’ll return,” I insisted. “Two hours isn’t too long. And if I take a little nap, I may be able to drive. Another hour and we’ll be home. Maybe even sooner if I’m on a roll.”

  “Of course, try to sleep,” Melamori urged. “And I’ll—”

  “Sit down beside me, okay? What if I have a nightmare or something?”

  “After the adventures we’ve just been through it wouldn’t surprise me in the least.”

  “Aw, shucks. What are a few little adventures? All the same, I don’t have my talismanic kerchief, and Sir Juffin said that . . .” My head fell back on the soft seat, and I dropped off to sleep in mid-sentence.

  This time my dreams took me so far there was no farther to go. I dreamed that I was in a completely empty place. There was nothing there. It’s impossible to describe or explain, but there was truly nothing: no space, no time, no light, no darkness, no height, no depth, no gravity, no weightlessness. There was no me. At least, being present there didn’t mean the same thing as being. More like the contrary.

  Somehow I already knew the rules of the game. A few of them, anyway. I could get anywhere I wanted to from here. Not just to any city but to any World, uninhabited or inhabited. And to my surprise there were multitudes of them. I felt not only that I could but that I had to plunge into one of these unknown realities. I knew it would be dangerous to hesitate. If I didn’t take the initiative, one of the Worlds would take me by force.

  The Doors between Worlds—Juffin and Maba Kalox had often mentioned them to me. I had been dying to learn what they were like, and now I had the answer to that question. There was nothing here at all except those sinning Doors between Worlds! And they had all been flung wide open, as if to welcome me inside.

  I stood frozen in the emptiness, knowing that now one of the Worlds would take me and that I would never find my way back to Echo. This seemed to me to be a disaster. I wanted to go home. What did it matter where and when I was born? My place was in Echo, and I wanted to stay there, because . . . it was right.

  I had to get out of here immediately. To go back to the Magaxon Forest, to the broken-down amobiler of the Ministry of Perfect Public Order, where Sir Max, that me I very much liked being, remained. But I didn’t know which of the doors in this eternity led home.

  I demanded of myself that I stay. Easier said than done! The unknown Worlds were determined to get hold of me. I sensed their hunger and their power, which were absolutely indifferent to my desires, hopes, and plans for the future. With what could I counter this power? I had only my inborn obstinacy, which had almost driven my parents to an early grave. That and an irrational fondness for the mosaic pavements of Echo, and the habit of starting my morning with a mug of kamra. Not to forget my love for my friends, a feeling that was clear and profound, and that I had hardly even suspected until now. And the gray eyes of Melamori that reflected our mutual disappointment, and the longing for that which could never be ours. But even these things were not enough. I felt that I was disappearing, slowly but surely sinking into the crevice of another reality, and a new, already delineated fate.

  A resounding slap brought me back to reality. I jerked awake, stunned, discombo
bulated, and boundlessly happy. I didn’t remember where I was or what had happened at first. I just felt that I had been snatched back in the nick of time from some terrible danger. But what kind of danger was it?

  Melamori, pale and shaken, was looking deep into my eyes.

  “What happened?” I asked. “Why are you slapping me? Did I try to make a pass at you or something? I know I do all kinds of things in my dreams, but I never thought I’d stoop to that.”

  “Sinning Magicians, as if that were all that had happened! That would have been nothing! I’m sorry for slapping you, Max, but I had to wake you. You began to disappear. I was afraid that in another moment you would disappear altogether.”

  “That’s not good.” I shook my head, trying to come to my senses. “Where could I have gone? That’s ridiculous. And what did it look like?”

  “It was terrifying. When you fell asleep I sent a call to Sir Juffin to fill him in on the details of our hunt for Jiffa. At the same time I asked him to send a call to that crazy forester, to make sure he didn’t decide to just go to bed and leave us without an amobiler. Then we gossiped a bit, you know how I goes.”

  “I know.” I smiled in spite of myself. “And what happened then?”

  “Then he told me that I should keep an eye on you, that your heart wasn’t in the right place because you were sleeping without your talisman. Just in time! When I looked at you, you had already become half-transparent and were growing more so with every passing second. It was happening so fast! I was scared to death. Then I realized that if some misfortune was underway in your sleep I ought to wake you up. And that everything might be all right then. Obviously, I was right.”

  “Yes, you were,” I said rubbing my jowls, still sore where she had slapped me. “How smart you are! Something terrible was happening to me, but what was it? I can’t seem to remember.”

 

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