The Stranger: The Labyrinths of Echo, Part One

by Max Frei

  “And you, Juffin, how long has it been since you were there?”

  “A very long time. I seriously doubt whether I’ll ever go back. I have neither family nor friends in Kettari anymore, so I have neither ties of tenderness, nor obligation to this dot on the map, and I am not at all sentimental. In this I resemble you, by the way. But that’s not really why I don’t want to go there. I feel there’s some sort of inner ban on my returning there. I know that not only do I not need to go to Kettari—I shouldn’t. And my experiences witness to the fact that an inner ban is the only authentic kind. Are you familiar with that feeling, Max?”

  I fiddled with the cigarette butt pensively.

  “I think I know what you mean. A genuine inner ban is a thing of great power. Only I often can’t distinguish it from the other inner stuff: self-defeating, paranoid thoughts, superstitions, habits of mind.”

  “Don’t fret about that. Emotional clarity is something that comes with time. Now then, back to the matter at hand. A few years ago, a bizarre chain of events began to unfold. In this very office, two fugitives from the law showed up. One of them kept shouting maniacally that they wanted to turn themselves in to Mr. Venerable Head personally. The other didn’t say a word, just stared at the same spot the entire time. They had been sent to the City Police Department for some trifling offense and had been able to escape the guards, which doesn’t surprise me in the least. Considering the chaos that reigns in Boboota’s office, I’d say it was predictable, if not inevitable.

  “One of the fugitives, someone by the name of Motti Fara, turned out to be a countryman of mine. Like me, he hadn’t been in Kettari for quite some time—since the beginning of the Code Epoch, at least. When he got into trouble, he decided that his native city wasn’t the worst place to hide from the police of the Capital. So the two of them set off for Kettari. And got lost.”

  “And that seemed too unlikely to you, right?” I asked, and added knowingly, “Maybe your countryman just had something wrong with his head? That happens sometimes, you know.”

  “My countryman did not strike me as an idiot,” Juffin said drily. “In my humble opinion, Mr. Fara had quite enough intelligence to make it back to his hometown. But nothing came of it. After that failure, the fugitives returned to the Capital. Instead of hiding, they went straight to the House by the Bridge, which in itself is quite improbable, and started begging for a meeting with me. My curiosity did not allow me to ignore their request—people don’t often commit such foolhardy acts.”

  “Oh, yes they do,” I murmured. “Even worse ones.”

  “You’re right, for the most part,” Juffin smiled. “But for us, natives of Kettari, pragmatism is in the blood. Pay attention now; the best is yet to come. Don’t let your mind wander.”

  “I’m sorry, Juffin. I don’t seem to be very cheerful, today.”

  “That’s an understatement, if I’ve ever heard one. You’ve been so lacking in spirits lately that it’s nauseating just to look at you!” the chief said with a sigh.

  Then he got up from his chair, came up to me, and tugged at my ear. It made me feel so awkward that I began to laugh nervously. When I stopped laughing, I realized with amazement that my mood really had noticeably improved. Even my broken heart felt like it had been reassembled.

  “You deserve a break,” Juffin said. I felt his heavy hand on my shoulder. “It’s my little gift to you. To be honest, everything that is happening to you, you’ll have to come to terms with yourself, without anyone else’s help. But one can stray from any rule—if not too long, or too far. All the more since I need all your attention right now, not pathetic little shreds of it. Right-o?”

  I nodded silently, delighting in the absence of the familiar gnawing pain in my chest, the trusty companion of every loss I ever experienced. Juffin went back to his chair and continued his story.

  “My countryman seemed to be mortally afraid. He swore that Kettari had disappeared. Or, rather, that it lay in ruins. His companion was in a twilight state of consciousness, and the stench of madness hung about him like the smell of sweat on a farmer. The poor thing should have been sent to a Refuge for the Mad, not to prison. He couldn’t even say his own name, but mumbled incoherently. However, Motti Fara seemed to be a very sensible gentleman, however. He announced that the two years in Nunda Prison that he had been sentenced to were nothing compared to the disappearance of our native city. Then this true patriot of Kettari did this,” (here, Juffin tapped the tip of his nose with the index finger of his right hand) “and asked that, as one countryman to another, I not extend his sentence for running away.

  “That’s our favorite Kettarian gesture, Max. It means that two good people can always come to an understanding. I was so moved I was ready to let him off altogether. Unfortunately, Boboota’s boys already knew that the sly fellow had found his way under my wing. Now that’s something I understand: old fashioned patriotism!”

  I couldn’t suppress a smile, so loaded with irony was the chief’s remark.

  “To continue, Max. A few days later, another caravan arrived, loaded with carpets from Kettari. Here were a few dozen reliable witnesses from the flourishing town. I could take comfort in the knowledge that my fugitives had simply gotten lost, after all. Yet a nagging voice inside me kept insisting that it wasn’t all as straightforward as that; and if I lose sleep over a problem for more than one night, it’s a sure sign that something smells fishy. When all is well in the World, I sleep soundly. That’s just the way I’m made. You’re the same way, if I’m not mistaken.”

  “Me, sir? Why my rest depends on more down-to-earth matters. If I don’t forget to go to the bathroom before I go to bed, I sleep like the dead. If I forget, I toss and turn, and I’m tormented by gloomy premonitions about the imminent demise of the Universe. My constitution is very primitively designed, didn’t you know?”

  Juffin grinned and poured me some kamra.

  “To add to my own suspicions, my countryman wrote me letters nearly every day. I can still see that seal of the Nunda Royal Prison of Hard Labor in my mind’s eye. I even had to create a special box for his correspondence so it wouldn’t get mixed up with the other papers. The content of the letters was not distinguished by its variety. Here, take a look at one of them. It is paper, of course. Prisoners aren’t allowed to use self-inscribing tablets. But you’re used to paper, aren’t you?”

  Juffin opened a small box, extracted a little square of thick paper from it, and handed it to me. With a voyeuristic thrill, I started reading the crabbed handwriting of this missive meant for someone else:Sir Venerable Head, I’m afraid that all the same you didn’t believe me. But Kettari true enough is no more. There is just an empty place, a pile of ancient ruins. I could not have gotten lost. I know every stone for miles around. I remember the seven Vaxari trees by the city gates. They’re still there. But the gates are gone! There’s just a bunch of stones that still bear the remains of the carving of old Kvavi Ulon. And behind them, just dusty rubble.

  I handed the letter back to Juffin, who turned it over in his hands a few times and then placed it in the box again.

  “Then he died, this unlucky fellow. It was more than a year ago now. Here’s his last letter. It’s different from the others. Another law of nature: the farther you go, the more interesting things become. Take a look, Max.”

  I took the next folded paper square from him, and stumbling over fragments of the small, unfamiliar handwriting, began to read:Sir Venerable Head, I have once again decided to take pen in hand and take up your time. I hope they are passing my letters along to you. Last night I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about the ruins that greeted me from behind the tops of those trees. And I remembered how Zaxo and I wandered around in those ruins for a long time. Probably that was when he lost his senses. As for me I just lost my memory. You see up until now I was sure that we had just left right away, and I couldn’t understand why Zaxo lost his mind. He isn’t from Kettari, so if someone was going to go off his head, it shou
ld have been me!

  But last night I remembered that we went into the destroyed city, and I even found the ruins of my old home. But Zaxo said that I shouldn’t worry—there is the square, he said, and there are the tall houses, and there are people walking around everywhere. But I couldn’t see anything. My friend ran in that direction, and I was looking for him for a long time. And sometimes I could hear people’s voices, somewhere far away, so I couldn’t make out what they were saying. Only once I heard very clearly that they were talking about the old sheriff, Sir Mackie Ainti, and I was very surprised. He disappeared about 400 years ago, before my parents were even born, and someone said that he was on his way and that he would take care of everything.

  Then I found Zaxo. He was sitting on a rock, crying, and he couldn’t answer any of my questions. I took him away from there, and we set out for Echo again. Sir Venerable Head, don’t think I just made all of this up on the spot. I really only remembered these details last night, and I doubt very much I remembered everything that happened to me there. I beg you, please try to find out what happened to Kettari. I love that city, and I left my younger sister behind there. I would like to find her when I leave Nunda, and that will happen very soon.

  Here the letter broke off.

  “How did he die?” I asked.

  “Good question! Everything happened more than suddenly. They took him out for a walk, when the weather was fine and dry. Out of the blue there was a bolt of lightning. The poor fellow was reduced to a pile of ashes, while the guard came away only with singed eyebrows. Then came a peal of thunder and a downpour. Rain fell for two dozen days without ceasing. The first floor of the prison was flooded, and almost a dozen inmates were able to escape in the chaos. Nunda isn’t Xolomi, by a long shot! The incident created quite a furor. You know, Max, from the very start I was inclined to believe my countryman. Just the fact that he had voluntarily turned himself in to the authorities speaks volumes. Imagine how scared a person must be to subject himself to something that stupid. But you know, this letter and his strange death were the last straw. I realized that the fellow had led me to the brink of one of the most mysterious cases I had ever . . . Did you want to ask something, Max?”

  “Yes. Besides the adventures and terrors of your unfortunate countryman, was there something else you wanted to tell me?”

  “Your intuition works even when it doesn’t need to; I was going to tell you anyway. It’s nothing earth-shattering, just one little observation. You see, my doubts were sufficient to prompt me to take a good long look at the carpets they were bringing from Kettari. I’d stake my life on it that they smell faintly of True Magic, although they were made without resorting to it. Nevertheless, you know, it is strange. Until now I’ve been able to sense its presence in a person when he was up to his knees in mystery, even if he didn’t suspect it himself. As it was in your case, Max. But things, inanimate objects? I had never encountered anything like that before.”

  “But what about Sir Maba Kalox’s house? It’s so shrouded in mystery it’s hard to find it. A house is an inanimate object, isn’t it? Or have I got it wrong again?”

  “No, you’re absolutely right. And you’ve proven yet again that I’ve hit upon the best solution to a small but compelling problem.”

  “And what might that be?” I asked him, even though my heart, thudding desperately inside my ribcage, already knew the answer. Juffin nodded.

  “I see you already understand, Max. Yes, you’re going to Kettari. You’ll join a caravan and take a look at what’s going on there. If it all comes to naught, you can at least bring back a carpet; you need to make your new apartment a bit more homey. In any case, since it’s better for me not to show my face there, why not send you? All things considered, it amounts to the same thing.”

  “‘The same thing,’ that’s a good one! Of course, I’m ready to go anytime, but it doesn’t make much sense for me to go there.”

  “What makes you so sure? Mysteries love novices, especially fine ones like you. Aging wisemen like me should sit at home thinking deep thoughts. In short, I decided long ago that this case is just made for you. I never dreamed that you’d be so willing, though. Oh, and by the way, I don’t think it will be too dangerous.”

  “I’ve heard that one before! When you sent me to Xolomi to deal with the stumpy-legged ghost, you were also sure that I would manage with no trouble at all.”

  “What do you mean? You managed beautifully, just as I predicted.”

  “I just about spoiled everything! Twice running.”

  “‘Just about’ doesn’t count, Max. You acted quickly, and almost all your decisions were sound. Don’t you think that for a person who has lived in the World just a hundred days or so that’s nearly impossible?”

  “Melifaro once came up with a theory about my origins,” I recalled. “He suggested that I was a Mutinous Magician who lost his memory after you whacked me upside the head, as it were. Are you sure nothing like that happened, sir?”

  Juffin was delighted with this hypothesis. I let him have a good laugh, then went on.

  “You know I don’t object to danger, especially now. But please explain to me, in the name of all Magicians, why are you so sure that this trip won’t be dangerous? Are your feelings about it propitious?”

  “Yes, that too. But there’s more to it. I’ve already spoken about Kettari to Maba Kalox. He is no doubt aware of what is happening, but he’s beating about the bush. Maba has his own ideas about things, as you know. He assured me that whatever was happening in Kettari didn’t threaten the World, and could in fact be considered a ‘joyous event.’ Then again, Maba has his own notions about such things. By the way, he is thrilled that you’re going there. I wish I knew why. Come what may, I must learn all the details of this story. My curiosity has always taken precedence over my sense of duty, and in the case of Kettari, both these factors come into play. But the most important consideration is that I’ve found an excellent pretext for making your already-difficult life a little harder. What do you say, Max?”

  “I can’t tell you how happy you’re making me. But what about the ‘old sheriff of Kettari’—that Sir Mackie Ainti the ‘voices’ were talking about? You yourself used to be the sheriff of Kettari. Did you change your name or something, Juffin?”

  “Me? In the name of Magicians, of course not! I succeeded him as sheriff. In the beginning old Mackie was my boss. And much more than just a boss. If they ask you in three hundred years ‘Who was Juffin Hully?’ and you’re in the mood to talk, you’ll probably say the same things about me that I would tell you about Sir Mackie. He didn’t drag me out of another world, though. That’s the difference between you and me.”

  I stared at Juffin. So this Sir Mackie Ainti taught my boss all the inscrutable things that go by the name of Invisible or True Magic? I wondered. The boss nodded. The question that was on the tip of my tongue was no secret to him. This instant mutual comprehension sent a thrill up and down my spine.

  “I might add that the old man really did disappear about four hundred years ago. That is to say, he didn’t disappear, but just up and left Kettari, saying goodbye to me in these words: ‘It’s time for you to have a bit of fun, Juffin—only don’t even think about sending me a call. For your own sake.’ Mackie was never distinguished by garrulousness; not like yours truly. So thank the Dark Magicians, Max—you didn’t end up with the worst mentor in the World.”

  “I already do thank them, on a daily basis. They’re probably sick of hearing from me by now,” I said, smiling. “So when do I leave, Juffin?”

  “Caravans to Kettari form once every two dozen days. The next one leaves about four days from now, if I’m not mistaken. I hope everything will be ready for your departure by then.”

  “Everything?” I asked in surprise. “What is there to get ready? Or haven’t you finished yet?”

  “I’ve hardly begun. First, you’re not to go alone. Don’t even think of arguing that point. It’s not just some idiosyncrasy of m
ine. It’s a rule.”

  “I wouldn’t think of arguing. Who’s going with me?”

  “I’d like to hear your suggestions first.”

  “I’m a creature of habit. If I’m going to set out for who knows where and who knows why, I want Lonli-Lokli by my side. I’ve tried it once, and I like it. But who will strike the fear of the Magicians into the bad guys of the Capital if both of us high-tail it out of Echo at the same time?”

  “Don’t worry, Max,” Juffin grinned. “You’ve never seen me in action. I’ve become lazy with both of you around, but even I can come out of hibernation if need be. And it’s time to shake some of the fat off Sir Kofa.”

  “You can say that again. I must admit, it never occurred to me that you might want to come out of hibernation. So you don’t object to Lonli-Lokli as my traveling companion?”

  “Object? Those were my thoughts exactly. Only curiosity prevailed. I wanted to find out whether you’d guess where my sympathies lay, or whether you’d slip up this time and land in a puddle. Congratulations!”

  “I assume that Shurf and I will have to disguise ourselves. The whole city recognizes us at a glance. I’m sure no one wants to go to Kettari in the company of two professional killers from the Secret Investigative Force.” I glanced at Juffin. “Did I land in a puddle?”

  “Not yet. Keep going, Max.”

  “It won’t be a problem for me,” I said confidently. “But how will Shurf pull it off? He’s so conspicuous. I guess Sir Kofa is our only hope.”

  “Plop!”

  I looked at the chief, stunned, then burst out laughing.

  “Oh, you mean I fell in the puddle after all?”

  “You sure did.” Juffin was beaming. “How modest you are, Sir Max. If there is to be a problem with anyone, it’s going to be with you. You don’t seem to be very observant. Praise be the Magicians, Shurf has an extremely inconspicuous appearance. The city is full of fellows just like him! Change the color of his hair, dress him in something bright and colorful instead of his white looxi, take off his gloves—and even you won’t recognize him. And there are plenty of tall people in the World.”