The Stranger's Woes

by Max Frei

  “Hold on, guys.” I made a colossal attempt to stand up. The attempt failed, but at least I was able to support myself on one elbow. “We’ve got to do something about the bodies,” I said. “Burn them, maybe.”

  “I think I know what you mean, boy,” said Kofa. “I don’t think that . . . On the other hand, it won’t hurt it if we try. Leave it to me, though. I have so many assistants here.” He waved his hand in the direction of the policemen.

  “That’s great. Then do whatever you want with me. Sinning Magicians, it was so stupid of me not to take along the Elixir of Kaxar. I knew where I was going and why.”

  “May I humbly touch thy royal body?” said Melifaro. “I would never allow myself such liberties, but you are lying on the dirty, unwashed grass like a sack of your beloved royal horse dung.”

  “I think the grass has been washed,” I said. “Why else would it be wet?”

  Finally, I settled myself on the back seat of the amobiler, and Melifaro grabbed the levers.

  “Take me to my place on the Street of Yellow Stones,” I said. “Tekki’s already seen me dead once—I think that’s enough. She’ll think that this is my usual state.”

  “Fine, if you say so. But you look very much alive to me,” Melifaro said.

  “Not for long,” I said, and it was lights out for me.

  I simply fell asleep. I slept soundly, the way only a very drunk man can sleep. Praise be the Magicians, Melifaro was kind enough to haul my body all the way up to the second floor, and not drop it in the hallway.

  I woke up a bit past noon. I even had the strength to get up and take a bath. I didn’t feel sick, just nauseatingly weak, like you feel sometimes during a bad cold. The weakness was gone after just one gulp of Elixir of Kaxar, and I was back in business.

  On the table in the living room sat a jug of kamra. The delicious smell let me know that Tekki had made it and brought it over to me. Only she had such spices in her kitchen. All I had to do was to warm up this godsend of a drink. I took a sip of it and immediately sent Tekki a call to express my gratitude.

  I didn’t expect you to get up so soon, she answered. Sir Melifaro said your entire Royal Harem was visiting you and that I shouldn’t disturb you before evening. By the way, you can tell him that I bought his joke. You’ll be delighted to see his reaction.

  I have a better idea. I’ll tell him that my entire Royal Harem did visit me right after he left. He’ll be green with envy.

  Yeah, that’s a good one, too. Will you be able to crawl to my place today?

  If Sir Kofa and my harem let me, I’ll definitely come. But later. Right now I’m not sure which World I’m in.

  Ah, that’s something no one knows for sure.

  I got dressed and went to the House by the Bridge.

  “Another dead man is alive!” Melifaro said, hiding from me behind the chair. “This will never end!”

  “What’s worse is that one living man is going be dead soon,” I said. “What’s with that story about my harem, man? What if my girlfriend didn’t have a sense of humor?”

  “Oh, come on,” said Melifaro. “Your girlfriend not have a sense of humor? Impossible.”

  “It’s happened to me before. More than once, mind you.”

  “Stop scaring me. I’ve heard enough scary stories already,” Melifaro said.

  “Is Kofa here?” I said.

  “Why would he be here? He’s been gone since morning. Probably gobbling down Xator Turkey in some Rowdy Skeleton or other. He said he’d be back, though. You can send him a call.”

  “Not now. I just wanted to know about the cremation yesterday.”

  “It went okay, as far as I know. They poured the red Yokki tar on the bodies, burned them like firewood, and buried the ashes. They say it stank like all get-out. Chekta’s nose is permanently shriveled from the smell.”

  “I’ll bet it was something to behold.”

  “It sure was.”

  “Where’s Melamori?”

  “Believe it or not, she’s working. Someone bought an ancient figurine at the Murky Market and it disappeared a half hour later. Melamori set out in the company of three tough policemen to trail the guy who sold it. Not the worst entertainment in the world. Relax, she’s all right. I just talked to her. She’ll be back soon.”

  “Max,” said Kofa, who had just walked into the office. “If I were you, I’d go home to rest right away. Nothing is happening at the moment, and it would be a shame if you weren’t in tip-top shape tomorrow.”

  “Do you think tomorrow it will start all over again? Even after you burned them?”

  “If the one who turned those poor creatures into what we had to burn was any good at it, cremation isn’t going to stop them,” said Kofa.

  “And I have reason to believe that whoever accomplished it was a true master.”

  “Great. What are we going to do then?” I said, almost beside myself.

  “I told the policemen to stay there and keep watch,” said Kofa. “If the undead should want to party once more, we’ll have to return and kill them again. And again. And again, until Juffin gets back. I’m sure he can put them to rest once and for all.”

  “How about the Main Archive?” I said. “Has anyone tried looking in the Main Archive? Maybe the buriwoks know some way to—”

  “What do you take us for?” said Melifaro. “Lookfi and I began digging for information yesterday. We spent all morning there, too. Nothing. Nada. Nothing even remotely similar has ever happened in this city before.”

  “Okay, then, we’ll just have to wait for Shurf and Juffin.” I was beginning to come to terms with the fact that the disgusting extermination of zombies would become a daily routine, like morning exercise.

  “Then I’d better go get cleaned up,” I said. “A sack of horse dung can’t be a deputy of the Venerable Head of the Minor Secret Investigative Force, as far as I know.”

  “I am absolutely free tonight, so I can sleep in your chair,” said Kofa. “I’d be happy to hold down the fort.”

  “Okay, but please send me a call if something happens,” I said. “My sense of responsibility requires me to take part in every collective sacrifice.”

  “I will,” said Kofa.

  The living dead, huh? I said to myself. The feeblest plot of the worst B movie. Why the heck should I be dealing with this plot every day when I had grown sick and tired of it long ago from TV?

  This monologue cheered me up. Besides, I was visited by a vague, crazy thought, which hadn’t quite taken the form of an idea . . . Even a weed needs time to grow roots and become strong. A few days, though. No more.

  The rest of the day I spent spiffing myself up and pulling myself together, and I took my time with it. There’s nothing more satisfying than playing the exhausted hero. If I had my way, I would do it day in and day out. But this time the play ended before midnight, when Kofa sent me a call.

  Guess what, Max.

  Okay, I’m on my way. It’s getting worse, don’t you think? It’s happening more and more often now.

  You can say that again.

  This time, Kofa and I arrived at the Green Petta Cemetery at the same time. The policemen seemed much more frightened than they had been the day before, probably because it was happening at night. By the dim light of a sliver of moon, the group of naked creatures looked much spookier. Even I shuddered at the sight.

  “You take it easy today, Max,” Kofa said. “You overexerted yourself yesterday. I can do it alone very easily.”

  “I don’t doubt it for a second. Your method is much more efficient. You should teach me someday.”

  “All in due time,” Kofa said. “You see, Magic that doesn’t drain your energy takes a long time to master.”

  “I’m a quick learner,” I said.

  “Are you, indeed? You have so many virtues, lad. Who would have thought? But today I’m going to go for something different. I think you’re going to like this trick even more. I daresay you haven’t seen anything quite like it be
fore.”

  From the pocket of his looxi Sir Kofa Yox produced a small pipe, examined it very carefully, and lit it up.

  For a few minutes he just stood there smoking. I could only admire his deliberate puffing. Then I realized that all this time Kofa had only been inhaling. He hadn’t exhaled the smoke a single time.

  Then Kofa walked toward the group of undead, who were shuffling around aimlessly. He stopped a few feet away from them and exhaled a cloud of thick reddish smoke. There was so much of it that it was as if a whole peat quarry were on fire inside Kofa’s chest. I closed my eyes instinctively, then opened them and saw the undead fall to the ground. In a matter of minutes, Kofa’s magic smoke had killed almost all of them.

  “There’s that one with the earring again,” I said, spotting the reddish glow of metal. “You were right, Kofa. Burning them was absolutely pointless.”

  “The worst part is that they’re coming more and more often now, as you may have noticed,” said Kofa. He wiped his forehead. “I shouldn’t have tried showing off. That trick with the smoke takes a lot of energy. And all that just to find out a few hours later that the trick was in vain. We need to think of something else. Pretty soon we’ll just have to move here permanently. Unfortunately, our almighty colleagues aren’t going to be back for a long time.”

  “Maybe I can ask Lady Sotofa Xanemer to help us,” I said hesitantly.

  “I’m afraid that she won’t be much help here. The Order of the Seven-Leaf Clover doesn’t like dealing with death and the dead. It’s not so much that that they loathe it as that they don’t know how to deal with it. It seems to be their only weakness.”

  “Well, we’re out of luck, then. There is Sir Maba, of course.”

  “Maba Kalox?” Kofa said. “He’s not too keen on helping Juffin out, even though they seem to be friends. But go ahead, try him.”

  I sent a call to Maba Kalox.

  Don’t fret, Max. Your problem is not a problem at all. In a few days’ time you’ll see for yourself.

  If I don’t fret, Echo will be crowded with undead very soon. The Echoers will be thrilled, I’m sure.

  You talk just like Juffin. Neither of you can stand Echoers, but the very thought of something threatening their dormant lives keeps you from sleeping at night. It’s up to you, though. If you fancy this storm in a teacup, who am I to stop you from making your own mistakes?

  After that Maba Kalox fell silent. That was his way. Any further attempts to establish communication with him were fruitless and ended with me breaking out in a sweat.

  “Kofa, you’re clairvoyant,” I said sighing bitterly. “Our magnificent Sir Maba Kalox said we shouldn’t fret because, you see, our problem is ‘not a problem at all.’ And that was that.”

  “Maba Kalox never speaks idly,” Kofa said. “He’s very enigmatic and sneaky—and this time he’s being extremely sneaky. I wish I knew what he meant by that.”

  “Maybe he meant to say we shouldn’t kill them anymore?” I said. “Maybe we should let them roam the streets and wait for something extraordinary to happen.”

  “I’m afraid this is not the kind of experiment we can afford to make,” Kofa said. “But ‘don’t fret’ sounds very appealing to me.”

  We went back to the House by the Bridge, waited for Melamori to arrive, planted her in Juffin’s chair, loaded the responsibility for everything in the world on her fragile shoulders, and went home. It was clear that we needed to use every opportunity we could to relax and get some rest.

  Another call came at sunset. This time Kofa and I took Melifaro with us. The undead had begun to seem like annoying old acquaintances. The daily battle in the cemetery was a dull routine, and my feelings about it lacked so much as a hint of metaphysical trepidation.

  “Wait a minute, guys,” I said. I thought I had found the solution to the problem. “What if we tried talking to them? How come we didn’t try it right away?”

  Melifaro grinned, and Kofa shrugged.

  “Because . . . Go ahead and try it.”

  I approached a group of the undead. I looked for the one with the red earring. I almost thought of him as an old classmate.

  “What’s the deal, guys?” I said. “Why do you keep rising from the dead? Maybe we can help you?”

  My “classmate” with the earring stared into the distance, as if he didn’t even notice me. His buddies also ignored my interrogation.

  “Well, say something already, darn you!” I said.

  One of the undead shuddered, turned to me, and opened his toothless mouth. “U-u-u-u-u-uh,” said the creature very seriously.

  “Thank you very much,” I said. “That was extremely informative.”

  “I think the first round of diplomatic negotiations is over,” said Melifaro. “Now, let’s get down to business.”

  And that’s just what we did. Several moments later it was finished. Or was it?

  It’s like I’m being forced to act in the worst possible soap opera, I thought, as I drove my coworkers to the Right Bank, away from the Green Petta Cemetery that we had all grown to hate. How many times do we have to kill these repellent living dead? Where are my silver bullets? Wait, silver bullets only work against werewolves and vampires. How do you kill the undead? Sprinkle them with holy water?

  That last idea seemed so good to me that I almost crashed into a large Vaxari tree that grew near the House by the Bridge. The daft idea vanished from my crazy head for the time being.

  “Go get some rest, guys,” I said. “I’m on duty tonight. I have to be useful every now and then.”

  “I don’t need any rest,” said Melifaro. “And I’m not in the mood for it.”

  “Okay, you can stay, then. We’ll order a nice dinner, munch away the hours, and feel sad,” I said. “Kofa, do you want to join us?”

  “No, thank you. I’m going to visit a few taverns and listen to what people are saying. Undead or not, life goes on. Who knows what may be happening in Echo?”

  He passed his hands over his face. His new countenance remained immobile for a moment. Then his thick red eyebrow shot up in a sly arch.

  “Bon appétit, boys. Have fun.”

  “Fun is all we need now,” said Melifaro.

  And then it dawned on me. Just like that, all of a sudden. The way it usually happens. “Sculptures . . . What are sculptures made of in Echo?”

  “All kinds of materials,” said Kofa. “I’ve never been too keen on applied arts, however.”

  “You’re probably thinking of erecting a monument to yourself,” said Melifaro. “It’s high time you did.”

  “All right,” I said. “Kofa, your tavern-hopping will have to wait, I’m afraid. Step into my office. There’s something I want to discuss with you.”

  “Here’s what I think,” I said. “As I see it, we don’t need to destroy our visitors from the next world. What we don’t want is that those nimble fellows start roaming the streets, right?”

  “Right,” said Kofa. “I thought that was obvious.”

  “I know, I know,” I said. “That was just a prelude. Now, listen to me very carefully. I think we can turn our pesky friends into statues. Pour molten metal or something like that over them. Some craftsman will know what would work best. Then we can leave them alone until Shurf can incinerate them for good.”

  “Brilliant!” said Melifaro, laughing. “But why incinerate them? It’s conceptual art! The sculptures will be an excellent embellishment on the Left Bank. Better yet, let’s auction them off.”

  “Wait, stop laughing for a second, Ninth Volume,” I said. “Let me talk to a reasonable person. Kofa, what do you think? Can this be done?”

  “We should try it, at any rate. It’s a wild idea, but—a hole in the heavens above you, Max—why not give it a shot? We’ll be needing professional advice, though.”

  For the next several hours I felt like a true boss. My subordinates ran around Echo’s shops and studios recruiting volunteers. They even got Sir Lookfi, whose responsibilities normally
fell within the vaults of the Main Archive, on board. I was loafing around in the office. Sir Kofa thought that my Mantle of Death would not necessarily further mutual understanding between the sculptors and us.

  There was, however, one task I could manage. Melamori left the hoob with me. His appearance could also throw off our volunteer helpers. For the first two hours Leleo missed Melamori and wouldn’t eat the crumbs that I offered him. Then hunger got the better of him. He gobbled down his treat and purred softly. This small achievement made me very happy.

  I listened to his sweet purr, thinking of our upcoming deliverance. Yet thoughts about holy water were still wandering through my poor, crazy head. The problem was that there was no way to get hold of holy water in the Unified Kingdom: there were no churches, no priests, no religious superstitions.

  If my plan with sculptures doesn’t work, I’m going to have to fumble around in the Chink between Worlds, I thought. Who knows, maybe I’d be able to fetch a crucifix or something like that. Or should I run home real quick? There is a lot of that paraphernalia there. After all, I didn’t learn to travel between Worlds for nothing. I wasted a whole year on that trip. There must be some good that I can do for society with all my training in True Magic, after all.

  These thoughts seemed like innocent fantasies, inconsequential plans that would never materialize. But I derived a great deal of pleasure from such musings.

  “Max, I’m back.” Melamori was standing in the doorway. “How’s my Leleo doing? Has he missed me?”

  “No, he hasn’t. He’s been with me. I fed him, too.”

  “Aw, you traitor, you,” said Melamori, laughing. “I thought he only took food from my hands.”

  “He also thought so at first. But then he realized that hoobs can be wrong. Well, did you manage to recruit anybody?”

  “Of course I did. I brought you all the apprentices of Mr. Yuxra Yukkori. Yuxra said he’d come, too, when he finishes some work he’s doing. But trust me, this is not going to happen for another dozen years. Mr. Yuxra Yukkori is the most leisurely person in the Universe. Once he did some work for my father. For six months he kept telling Korva that it wasn’t going to work—that’s Yuxra’s favorite way of getting started on a job. Then he worked for two years and fashioned something that was all wrong. But Father liked it so much he agreed to take the piece anyway. Then Mr. Yuxra Yukkori said that he was so proud of his work that he didn’t want to sell it. Long story short, my father paid three times the amount they had originally agreed on, and became the happy owner of a sculpture that didn’t fit inside the house. Yuxra Yukkori hadn’t bothered to stick to the original dimensions, either.”