by Max Frei
“It’s very sweet of you to pay attention to such trifles, Melamori. But it’s news to me. It’s even hard to believe. Are you sure you’re not confused yourself?”
“Do you want to bet?” Melamori said, grinning. “Look in the mirror an hour from now. They change constantly!”
“I’m not going to bet with you,” I mumbled, handing back the mirror. “You’ll have me penniless. But for the life of me, I don’t understand why that should fill you with fear. So my eyes change color. You call that a miracle? Your whole family is from the Seven-Leaf Clover. You can’t seem to get used to it.”
“That’s just it. I know a lot, but I’ve never heard of anything of the kind. Yesterday evening, when I finally realized I wasn’t just imagining it, I even asked Uncle Kima. I didn’t mention your name; I said I had noticed it in one of the messengers. Kima also told me I was imagining it, that such things just don’t happen. I didn’t want to insist, but today I asked Sir Juffin. You know what he said?”
“Let me guess. ‘The world is full of wonders, girl.’ Or, ‘Don’t fill your head full of nonsense, Melamori.’ Am I right?”
“Almost,” Melamori said with a sigh. “He let out a big guffaw and answered that this wasn’t your only achievement. And he added that this city was full of ordinary lads, without any eccentricities, and that’s why they weren’t working in the Force.”
“That’s very nice of him,” I said and smiled. “I’ll have to thank him next time I see him.”
“Joking aside, Sir Max, are you absolutely sure you’re human?”
“I don’t know,” I said with a laugh. “It’s not something I’ve ever really thought about!”
“Sir Juffin answered me the same way. And he laughed just like you. But what am I supposed to do? Leave the Force so that I don’t have to see you? Or drink too much before every meeting with you just to pluck up my courage? Answer me, Sir Max!”
I probably should have thought up some comforting drivel for her. It was in my own best interests. But I liked Melamori so much I couldn’t lie, and I didn’t want to try to wriggle out of the situation.
“I really don’t know!” I insisted. “I was always sure that you’d have to look far and wide to find a more normal person than myself, however strange that may sound. But don’t try to pull the wool over my eyes, Melamori! You’re not such a coward, as far as I can judge.”
“No, I’m no coward, but . . . I grew up among special and unusual people, Max. My father was appointed to the throne during the Troubled Times, in the event of the deaths of both Gurigs. My aunt and uncle are from the Order of the Seven-Leaf Clover, and my mother’s side of the family is descended from an ancient royal dynasty. You can imagine what it was like for me when I was growing up. And I’m used to being ‘special’ myself. The ‘most important,’ even. I grew up thinking I knew everything, understood everything, and could make anyone do my bidding. Well, nearly everyone. I’ve had to reconcile myself to the idea that Sir Juffin Hully is beyond my comprehension, insofar as I know the history of the Troubled Times not from books, but from witnesses. He’ll tell you, too, if he hasn’t already. But I want to love a person who—”
“Who will do your bidding?” I asked, suddenly realizing what she was trying to say.
“Yes, most likely. Moreover, that’s how I was raised. If I don’t understand something, it frightens me. This is what the Order of the Seven-Leaf Clover stands for, if you’d like to know—circumspection and comprehension, precisely in that order! So since I know quite a bit, and can explain things to myself somehow, I’m usually no coward. But as soon as I look at you, Max, I just fall apart!”
“Then there’s only one way out for you,” I said with a wink. “Get to know me better. Throw caution to the winds and find out who I am. You’ll discover that I’m a terrible bore, and then everything will be fine. Hurry up, though. By the next full moon I’ll completely lose my human form.”
I couldn’t help feeling amused. I’ve had all kinds of problems with girls, but never this kind. It was usually other things they disapproved of. I had believed quite optimistically that putting Lady Melamori’s inchoate fears to rest would be a piece of cake. She’d get a closer look at me and realize that fear was the last thing she should feel around me. I’m not very convincing as some “beast flying on the wings of darkness.”
The evening ended with us indecorously sharing another bottle of the Order’s exclusive wine in Melamori’s living room. True, we weren’t alone. There were also eight (imagine!) of Melamori’s girlfriends keeping us company. The young ladies were all very pretty, and they chattered so incessantly it made me dizzy.
Melamori seriously overindulged in strong beverages, so when I was taking my leave I received a passionate kiss from her. Almost genuine. I was so taken aback that I decided just to be happy with what I had—come what may!
All the rest of the night I wandered through Echo, frightening the solitary passersby with my Mantle of Death. My mind was on fire with wild premonitions. Some atavistic instinct demanded immediate and desperate action. But my good upbringing prevailed, and in the end I did not scale the wall and crawl through Lady Melamori’s bedroom window.
I couldn’t fall asleep, either, even by midday. After tossing and turning under the covers for a few hours, I dispensed with my daily schedule and set out for the House by the Bridge, arriving much earlier than I was expected.
“You couldn’t sleep, Sir Max?”
I very rarely had the occasion to see my boss in a bad mood, but I couldn’t remember ever having seen him as happy as he was today.
“What’s going on?” I asked. “Did Boboota Box die after all?”
“Don’t be silly, Max. He’s all right. He’s going to invite you and Melifaro over to visit him as soon as he can get out of bed. So prepare yourself! It’s hard to be General Boboota Box’s rescuer. I suspect the gratitude of this wonderful man will be much more tormenting than his rage. Be that as it may . . . Do you remember Chakatta Pie?”
“And how! Did you really manage to get another piece?”
“Look at things from a broader perspective! Even Chakatta Pie will be available to any Tom, Dick, and Harry in town. And us, too!”
“What do you mean by that?” I prodded cautiously. “Do you plan to rewrite the Code of Krember?”
“I always knew you had exceptional intuition. You guessed it! Not rewrite it completely, but . . . we’ll just make a small amendment. One neat and proper little change. Everything’s ready to go; we just need the official sanction of Grand Magician Nuflin. That’s why we’re going to see him. And when I say ‘we,’ I mean both you and me. Actually, three of us are going. Kofa is invited, too.”
“Juffin,” I stammered, almost losing the power of speech altogether. “Why would you need me there? I’m flattered, naturally. But are you sure that I’m someone you want tagging along with you to the Residence of the Seven-Leaf Clover? What about the color of my eyes? You don’t think they’ll clap you in Xolomi for consorting with an otherworldling? Lady Melamori would probably approve of such a harsh measure.”
“Oh, she unburdened herself to you already? Silly girl. Well, unlike her, Nuflin is a serious chap. He’s lived an exceedingly long life. He understands True Magic and all the rest. At the dawn of the Troubled Times his emissaries fell at my feet. By the way, it was because he was well-informed. Without people like me and Sir Maba, the Order of the Watery Crow—”
“The ‘Watery Crow’?” I asked, and burst out laughing.
“Go ahead and laugh. It doesn’t matter now. But a century and a half ago it wasn’t funny at all. He had a real Power behind him, and not some paltry bag of tricks. It was through their kind offices that the World was on the verge of going to wrack and ruin and succumbing to the Dark Magicians. The others just helped in whatever ways they could.”
“Still, it’s funny. So in fact the victory of the King and the Seven-Leaf Clover in the Battle for the Code was your doing?”
�
�Partly. I’ll tell you about it someday when we have time—when you’re ready to understand even half of what I say. Don’t be offended. Your ability to understand depends on your personal experience, and not on your mental powers. So, getting back to your question. I’m taking you and Sir Kofa with me for the simple reason that Nuflin requested me to. He’s the master of the house, he decides these things.”
“He wants to see a savage from the back of beyond?”
“He wants to take a look at my successor, if you really must know.”
I nearly fell out of my chair, but started to do Lonli-Lokli’s breathing exercises instead. I think they saved my life.
“Don’t worry,” Juffin grinned. “What does it matter to you what will happen in three hundred years? As far as I know, you never hoped to live that long. So just take it as information about my posthumous life. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” I sighed. “All the same, don’t joke like that anymore, all right?”
“Who says I’m joking? Well, enough of your wailing and moaning. You knew from the very start why I was bringing you here. The fact that you concealed this from yourself is another matter altogether. Why don’t you brew up some kamra; you don’t want to lose your touch.”
“Oh, that’s more like it,” I said, getting down to business. “Now I’ll make a fool of myself, you’ll demote me to janitor, and everything will be fine.”
“No need for false modesty,” Juffin said, tasting my concoction. “Today it’s even better than last time.”
Exactly one hour before sundown, Sir Kofa Yox appeared, this time in his own guise, and enveloped in a splendid dark purple looxi. Never before had I seen such a rich hue. It almost seemed to glow from within.
“Only Sir Kofa has the privilege of dressing like that,” Juffin informed me. “After all, he’s been keeping the peace in this blasted town for two hundred years. Back then, the position of Head of City Police inspired far more respect than the title of Grand Magician. And it wasn’t just by chance—it was thanks to Sir Kofa that the philistines of Echo went almost unscathed in the Troubled Times. I could kill him for it: I’m sick of them, these philistines!”
“Mea culpa,” Sir Kofa muttered, his eyes downcast. “What could I do? I’d taken an oath.”
“But how did it come about that General Boboota occupied your post?” I asked. “Intrigue?”
Juffin and Kofa exchanged glances and exploded in laughter.
I blinked dully, uncomprehending.
“Boy, you still don’t understand where you’re working,” Sir Kofa said, after he had regained his composure. “Let me explain—it was a promotion. And what a promotion it was! What you don’t seem to realize is that Sir Juffin is second-in-command in the country.”
“After the King?”
“No, after Magician Nuflin, of course. And you and I and His Majesty Gurig VIII are trailing behind somewhere among the first twelve.”
“Well, I’ll be!” I said, shaking my head in vexation.
“Don’t worry, Max, that’s just the unofficial version of the ladder of hierarchy. It doesn’t change anything. Let’s go.”
And off we went to Jafax.
The Transparent Gates of Jafax Castle, the Residence of the Order of the Seven-Leaf Clover, the Single and Most Beneficent, open only twice a day: at sunrise and sunset. Early in the morning they are opened for representatives of the Royal Court and other important people. And at dusk, shady characters like us make our way inside. People think that the Minor Secret Investigative Force is the most sinister organization in the Unified Kingdom, though an initiate knows this is absurd.
The Grand Magician of the Order of the Seven-Leaf Clover, Nuflin Moni Mak, was waiting for us in a dark, spacious hall. It was nearly impossible to make out his face in the thick gloom. Suddenly I realized he hadn’t had a face for a long time already. To be more precise, the old man had forgotten what his own face looked like, and therefore no one else was able to descry its features. I also understood that the Grand Magician himself had seen fit to convey this silent information to me.
“You can’t imagine what a great joy it is that I’ve been able to stay alive until your visit, gentlemen! And what do you know, stay alive I did, until this very day!”
Magician Nuflin’s voice witnessed to a venerable old age, but its jangling chords concealed such incredible power that I shrank from him. He sounded slightly mocking and thoroughly amiable. He seemed to feel no need to intimidate his guests—like anyone who truly knows his own power.
“Have you been under Juffin’s tutelage for a long time already?” Nuflin Moni Mak asked, staring at me in frank curiosity. “How do you like it, this apprenticeship? They say you’re doing quite well. No need to be shy around Old Man Nuflin, Max. You should either be terrified of me, or not fear me at all. The first alternative seems rather pointless—we’re not enemies. You don’t have to answer, just sit down and listen to what the wise old folks say. You can tell your grandchildren about it. But then again, you can’t possibly have any grandchildren at your age!”
I took the Grand Magician’s advice and sat down on a comfortable, low divan. My older colleagues followed suit.
“Juffin, you are fond of a good meal,” Nuflin remarked affably. “It’s a wonder you waited so long with this amendment. My boys are simply thrilled about it. They say the opposition will be forced to shut up for two hundred years or more. Some theoreticians they are! Kofa, you’re a wise man. Tell me honestly, have you ever seen this ‘opposition’? I don’t believe in it, myself. It’s a childish fancy. My boys think that without enemies Old Nuflin will get bored with life. Tell me, Kofa, have I got things all wrong?”
“You’re quite right,” the Master Eavesdropper affirmed. “If there is an opposition, it’s not in Echo. And if someone’s grumbling about something in some Landalanda—”
“Ooooh, we’re scared, aren’t we?” Nuflin interjected. “We don’t even know where to hide. Well, that’s enough of that. Juffin, tell me how your little plan is going to work, and let’s be done with it. By the way, your boy here hasn’t had a wink of sleep in more than twenty-four hours. Are you aware of that? You shouldn’t drive your people so hard. You always were such a mean fellow.”
“He’s driving himself, without any outside help,” the boss said with a grin. “As for the reforms, for every chef an Earring of Oxalla, the same as your novices have. And let them experiment in the kitchen with Forbidden Magic, whether black or white. Only up to the twentieth degree, of course. More than that is out of the question.”
“Oh, Juffin. Why would they need more? That’s all an honest person needs to make a great meal.”
“Yes. And at the same time we can be sure that they will never resolve to ask for more. Whatever else it may be, it’s an extra safety measure.”
“Why didn’t you say something sooner, Juffin? Were you waiting until I came up with the idea myself? They cook very well for me already. Who would have thought! Now everyone will be able to get a tasty meal, just like in the good old days! They’ll put up statues of us in front of every tavern! And young Gurig, too, so his nose won’t be out of joint.”
I followed the conversation with rapt attention, and while much of it was over my head, I was able to figure out that the Code of Krember would no longer prevent culinary masterpieces from seeing the light of day. This rather alarmed me. If I had been a terrible glutton until now, what would become of me under the new dispensation? What if I expanded to Boboota’s dimensions? Lady Melamori would fear me even more than she did already.
At a certain moment, I began to sense that there was another witness to our conversation—an invisible one. I even detected a familiar condescending chuckle. Was it possible that Maba Kalox’s curiosity extended to such pedestrian affairs? In any case, I knew only one person who was fond of being invisibly present at important events.
Magician Nuflin interrupted my musings.
“What do you think about all this, young man? Do you also li
ke to eat well?”
“I do. True, you’ll never make a chef out of me. So my views on the subject completely coincide with those of Maba Kalox—it doesn’t matter where the food comes from, as long as it goes down well. Am I making myself clear?” I asked in a servile tone, fixing my gaze on a spot on the ceiling, from which Sir Maba seemed to be observing us.
Frankly speaking, this was a joke meant especially for Sir Juffin Hully. I thought my boss would pick up on the allusion, and that the others wouldn’t notice it at all. Instead, all three of them began staring at me like amateur botanists examining a rare carnivorous plant—in horror mixed with ecstasy.
“Oh, Juffin,” the Grand Magician exclaimed, breaking the silence. “What a nose your boy has! To sniff out the old rascal Maba—who would have thought? Where did you find him?”
“About where we buried Loiso Pondoxo in his time. A place even more remote, though.”
“What can I say Juffin—he’s worth his weight in gold!”
I instinctively sensed that the Grand Magician was staring at me again. I won’t say I was entirely happy about this, but I tolerated it patiently. Nuflin watched me intently for a time, and then began to speak again.
“Young man, ask that sly old fox Juffin when the last time was that old Nuflin was taken by surprise. Well, you don’t even have to ask him. If I don’t remember, he won’t remember either. But if someone asks you, you can tell him that old Nuflin was very surprised on the evening of the third day of the year 116 of the Code Epoch. And that would be the truth, because I was surprised today! What can I do for you, my boy? It’s better to say thank you right away for something like this, and not regret it later.”
I was completely stunned by what had just happened, but I decided that I shouldn’t explain or excuse myself. If Grand Magician Nuflin Moni Mak thought I was a genius—well, so be it! I was embarrassed, though Juffin looked pleased. And I did have a request.
