The Stranger (102 page)
Authors: Max Frei,Polly Gannon
Tags: #Mystery & Detective, #Horror, #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Epic
Sir Kalox, can you enlighten me about what’s happening? You taught me to catch cigarettes, not all this junk!
I have nothing to do with it, Max! You learn magic completely on your own. You’re just diversifying. What’s the problem?
That’s great
, I said plaintively.
But I still can’t get used to the local tobacco.
, I said plaintively.
But I still can’t get used to the local tobacco.
It’s a matter of taste. Personally, I like it. Well, I’ll let you in on a secret. Don’t get too attached to the pillow. Try it with other objects. The main thing is not to see what your hand is doing—that will only throw things off. You happen to have some free time, I know. So just practice. And don’t waste time with trifles anymore.
And Sir Kalox disappeared from my mind.
And Sir Kalox disappeared from my mind.
After a time, it occurred to me that I had easily gotten through to Sir Maba, who was in Echo, I presumed. Maybe that meant I could finally contact Juffin?
After the first try, I realized it was futile. Dead silence, as before. I tried once more, just so no one could say I hadn’t. Nothing.
Could this mean that Sir Maba was also lurking around Kettari? It’s becoming a very fashionable watering hole, I told my reflection aloud. Then I got down to work again, which I won’t deny was quite entertaining . . . It turned out that I could get a pizza right from under my favorite divan. After the third pizza, I realized this was the limit of the divan’s capabilities. I stuck my hand under the rocker. A bottle of grappa, then a can of Belgian beer. All right, got that figured out. That’s where they keep the drinks. But it was high time for a cigarette. I had only one left. Well, live and learn! I stuffed my hand in the pocket of my looxi almost mechanically—and to my astonishment, it grew numb almost immediately. I quickly drew my hand from my pocket. I couldn’t believe my eyes! There was a golden-yellow pack. A full pack of my favorite cigarettes, a hole in the heavens above your head! Unopened! But of course, where should you find cigarettes but in your own pocket? I stuck my hand in the same pocket again, and out came the crumpled, empty pack I had counted on finding from the very first. My head felt giddy from my own power, so I had to smoke and calm down a little. And try to get a grip on myself. These miracles were all well and good, but I still had to take charge of the situation somehow.
“What’s that, Max?” Lonli-Lokli asked in surprise. I hadn’t heard him come downstairs. The protective gloves, covered with runes, adorned his already enormous hands.
“Food from another World,” I said with a weary sigh. “It seems today I’m on a roll, though I’m quite baffled myself. You’re not hungry, yet? It might do you good. Maybe it’s wonder-food?”
“Maybe,” Lonli-Lokli drawled, sniffing cautiously at the pizza. “It does seem edible.” He tore off a piece, chewed it a while, then shrugged. “You know, I don’t really like it.”
“I don’t like it much, either,” I said, feeling a bit guilty. “Let’s try the chocolates. Do you want a drink, by any chance? A shot of courage, and all that? Do you have your holey vessel with you?”
To my surprise, Lonli-Lokli nodded enthusiastically and drew from his looxi the bottomless cup.
“In any case, I intended to resort to this, since I need to try every possible means,” he explained. “And a drink from another World could only increase my chances of victory.”
“So all my efforts weren’t in vain!”
It took only a minute to open the bottle, and I poured the grappa into the holey cup.
“May I try, perhaps? I mean, drinking from your crazy vessel?”
Lonli-Lokli stared at me, then emptied his cup in one gulp, and shrugged.
“Well, try it if you wish.”
And he handed me the cup. I poured a little grappa into this truly bottomless object and drank it down with gusto. I don’t much like the taste of grappa, but since I was privileged to be using Lonli-Lokli’s cup I was prepared to brave even this.
“Thank you. What am I supposed to feel now?”
“You? I have no idea!” My friend seemed quite bewildered. “I almost thought that your strange, powerful wine would pour straight through it. You haven’t undergone the initiation into the Order. I had some doubts about you—completely silly, unfounded ones—so I let you try it. Tell me, Max, are you aware of your own powers?”
“I didn’t even know there might be a problem,” I replied. “I thought that it all depended on your magic cup.”
“The cup is the most ordinary kind. Just an old cup full of holes,” Lonli-Lokli said. “What matters is who drinks from it. You know Max, you’re a very strange creature.”
“I’ve always thought so, too. Especially recently,” I said. “Well, let’s go find your friend. I must say, I’ve never felt so superb, even after a good dose of Elixir of Kaxar.” I stood up and went to the door. At the threshold I turned around, as Lonli-Lokli hadn’t budged from his seat. “Do you need to do something else? Did I jump the gun?”
“Max,” Sir Shurf asked slowly, “Tell me. Do you always walk without touching the ground, or . . .”
“Only in Kettari. Why do you ask?” I looked under my feet suspiciously. Between the soles of my boots and the floor there really was a small space—almost too small to be seen. “Holy moley! I don’t have the strength to be surprised anymore. I don’t think it will affect the matter at hand, so let’s go before that silly fool of a moon starts scrambling up the sky. You know, I seem to have a strong urge to drink some blood. Is that a normal reaction after using your cup?”
“Absolutely,” Lonli-Lokli said, nodding his head. “But try to keep yourself in check, and try not to confuse your real strength with an illusory sense of power.”
“I’ll try. I must say, I’ve really never received so much opportune advice before.”
“It’s just that I know what your present condition feels like. Which means I also know that you can control your behavior if you want to.” This weighty compliment committed me to a great deal, whatever miracles might befall.
When we were outside, Lonli-Lokli cautiously took off his left glove, stopped for a few seconds, and then set off toward the bridge with a determined stride.
“Is he nearby?” I asked. My heels, which suddenly tore away from the earth, were buzzing like crazy.
“Not yet. We’ll have to walk for about half an hour. That will give us time to discuss a few details of what awaits us. I was going to ask you not to interfere in the fight, and suggest that you generally keep your distance from Kiba Attsax, but—”
“You changed your mind?” I asked. Shurf nodded earnestly.
“Yes, you taught me a good lesson. Underestimating your enemy is an unforgivable blunder. But underestimating your ally is even more dangerous. So go ahead and interfere, if need be.”
“That’s all well and good,” I said, somewhat confused. “But how do you kill dead Magicians? Until now, I knew of only one method—your famous left hand. An excellent thing. But as I understand it, it won’t shine for us?”
“No. If it were a matter of any other creature, perhaps. But my glove was at one time Kiba’s hand, so it won’t offer us any help. I can still do some other tricks, maybe they will be sufficient. Each person has his own best way of killing a Grand Magician, living or dead. You have a chance now to find out what your own best way is,” said Lonli-Lokli, and fell silent. I decided not to burden him with conversation.
Meanwhile, we continued along the streets of Kettari. I enjoyed this walk as I had enjoyed no other. Every step sent a pleasant tickling sensation through my entire body, starting as a pleasant itch in the soles of my feet.
“Why am I levitating, Shurf? Has anything like this ever happened to you?”
“Yes. After I drank dry all the aquariums of the Order I didn’t touch the earth for several years. It happens from a surcharge of strength and the inability to use it properly. That befell you after a surprisingly small dose, so your case might differ from mine. I must note that Kiba Attsax is now very close by. A bit closer, and I’ll have to take off my glove. It’s burning my hand.”
“Wow!” I said, and immediately shut up. What a thing to say at such a moment!
“Well, Max, I’m taking off the glove,” Shurf said quietly. “I have to give it to you now. Together with the protective one, of course. You have no part in the old dispute, so you can hold it without any problem.”
“Maybe I should just shrink it and hide it away? That’s my favorite trick. Would it be safe?”
“Yes, go ahead. Take it and follow me.” Shurf nodded at me, already somewhat aloof.
The dangerous glove obediently settled down between my thumb and the forefinger of my left hand. One thing I had certainly mastered was transporting bulky physical objects in this supremely practical way.
“Whatever you do, try to stay alive,” Lonli-Lokli said all of a sudden. “Death is a horrifying prospect if you’re dealing with Kiba. I know that for a fact.”
“I have a long lifeline,” I said, glancing stealthily at my right hand. “Do you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, save it for later, Max. He’s there in that house. Let’s go!”
The house Lonli-Lokli pointed to was a small, two-story structure with a signboard that read
Old Refuge
on the façade.
Old Refuge
on the façade.
“A rooming house?” I asked in surprise. “A dormitory for dead Magicians, room and board for a modest fee?”
“I think it is some sort of hotel. Do you really consider that to be important?”
“No, it’s just funny. A dead man living in a hotel. Where does he get the money, I’d like to know? Or did he have an account in a local bank when he was still alive?”
“Well, he had to be somewhere,” Lonli-Lokli murmured glumly.
I threw open the heavy lacquered door for him with a determined gesture.
“After you.”
The ancient steps creaked under the weight of his tread.
“Here we are,” Lonli-Lokli observed calmly, stopping in front of a completely nondescript white door with the vestiges of a number 6 in faded gold—something only I would notice, with my habit of paying attention to random nonsense.
“Open it, Max. Don’t hold back.”
“Oh, I forgot—your hands are tied up, in a manner of speaking.”
I grinned, and opened the door. Somewhere in one of the numerous magazines I devoured long ago in a previous life, I read that they asked Napoleon what the secret of his victories was. “The main thing is to throw yourself into the fray. After that you can sort out the details,” he quipped. Or something to that effect. Quite a fellow, that Napoleon—though he met with a rather unfortunate end.
By the window, with his back turned to us, sat a completely bald, withered old man in a bright looxi. Suddenly, a ball of lightning, white as snow, flew out from under Lonli-Lokli’s looxi. It struck the bald man right between the shoulder blades, and he flared up with an unpleasant pale light, like an enormous streetlamp. The ball of lightning didn’t seem to hurt the stranger in the least, but he turned around.
“Greetings, Fishmonger,” said Sir Kiba Attsax, the former Grand Magician of the Order of the Icy Hand.
The most horrifying thing was that Kiba Attsax looked very much like Lonli-Lokli himself. I remembered that Juffin had said our Shurf had an unremarkable appearance—that people who look like him are a dime a dozen. Blockhead that I was, I hadn’t believed him!
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