The Stranger's Woes (20 page)

I crawled out of the amobiler and threw open the door of the yellow house. My colleagues were lounging about in a spacious, empty room.

“. . . that she won’t have to go following the trace of that dead bore Jiffa.” Juffin concluded his thought out loud.

“That’s music to my ears,” Melamori murmured.

“So now it’s my turn? You wanted me to ‘wipe out the bastard,’ right?” Much to my surprise, I felt the thrill of the hunt. My facial muscles tightened, and I smiled a predatory smile.

“Max, you have the makings of a real Master of Pursuit,” Juffin said, grinning. Then he turned to Melamori. “Look at him! Whenever you’re straining at the leash to pursue another victim, it’s not a pretty sight, either.”

“Really? That’s what I look like? Impossible,” Melamori said.

“Okay, you go ahead and amuse yourselves,” I said. “I’m going to get down to business. Melamori, show me where the sinning trace is. Maybe I’ll be able to follow it like I did before.”

“Which trace are you after? There are two besides Jiffa’s.”

“Two?” I said. “Okay, show me both of them.”

“Come over here. And why are you wearing boots? Oh, right. You were able to trace me without taking them off.”

I went over to stand by Melamori. I stamped around a bit, trying to pick up some sensation in the soles of my feet. Nothing.

“You’re fooling me, aren’t you?” I said in an injured tone.

Melamori shook her head earnestly. Then I realized I had found the trace—and not just one but both of them at once. My left foot stood on one, and my right one on the other. It was like experiencing a true split personality. I was very much inclined to follow the left trace. The right one was far less attractive to me. My heart told me that it wasn’t wise to follow it, and my heart was rarely wrong.

“Here they are! Both of them. The one on the right of me seems very dangerous, and the left one quite ordinary. We probably want the right one, don’t we?”

“To me they seem equally dangerous,” Melamori said, looking quizzical. “They even resemble each other, though it’s hard to say how.”

Sir Juffin came up and poked me lightly in the side. I moved away. He stood next to me for a moment or two, nodding thoughtfully.

“You’re both right. The traces are very similar. And the right one is much more dangerous. It’s good there are two of you. Max will follow the left trace, and you, my lady, the right one, since you’re wary of it already. The suspects fled from here in an amobiler, I’m assuming. They aren’t so lacking in brains that they’d try to get away on foot. It won’t pose a problem for you to track them down, will it?”

“You know it won’t be a problem. And for Max even less so, since he’s able to find a trace with his shoes on,” Melamori said enviously.

“Good. Go after them, and may the Dark Magicians help you.”

“Let’s go, Max. We’ve wasted enough time as it is. I can’t imagine why,” Melamori said dryly.

“I can tell you why. First, I wanted you to be able to rest a bit more,” Juffin explained. “Second, who do they think they are anyway, making us rush after them hither and thither?”

“Brilliant,” Melamori said. “Now I really do have a sense of my own significance. Thank you, sir.”

Meanwhile, I had started moving along the trace. I crossed the threshold, went outside, and took a few steps down the sidewalk. My amobiler was parked a small distance away, but I felt a strong urge to get into it just where I stood. The urge was so strong that I had no power to resist it.

“Juffin, would it trouble you to drive my buggy over here?” I said politely. “I think I’m going nuts. I just can’t force myself to go over there, Magician’s word.”

“Hmm, that must mean that this is where their amobiler was parked,” Juffin said. “Now I’m sure you won’t have any trouble tracing them. You’ve got it down pat. Here, Max? Is this where you want it?”

I turned around to look. My amobiler stood close by. Sir Juffin was sitting proudly at the levers.

“Just a bit closer,” I said. “A tad.”

“Here’s your tad,” Juffin said. The amobiler inched up even closer.

“Excellent.”

By then I was already itching to get behind the levers. It was like an overwhelming hunger. I shot over to the driver’s seat like a projectile, hardly giving Juffin time to vacate it.

“My whole life I’ve wanted a child like you to sit on my lap,” he said bitingly. “You’re just burning to get in this buggy and drive off, aren’t you?”

“It’s not so much about this buggy. You know, Juffin, it seems the guy whose trace I stepped on also sat behind the levers. I mean, he was the one driving their amobiler, not the other guy. Something is making me . . . Oh, I can’t explain it,” I said, feeling crushed.

“It’s all right. I understand what’s going through your brain,” Juffin said.

He jumped out onto the paving stones. In the meantime, Melamori had settled down in the back seat. I turned to her in surprise, wondering why she didn’t want to sit next to me. Then I understood: the one whose trace Melamori had stepped on had been sitting behind the driver. She intercepted my glance and nodded.

“If these guys really headed for the Magaxon Forest, you’re going to need a guide,” Juffin said. “I sent a call to the forester there, Sir Chvaxta Chiyam. A fine fellow. He knows the forest like the back of his hand, and Jiffa’s lair, too. That’s essential. After the Royal Hunt put an end to the Magaxon Foxes, he wandered through the lairs and passageways for several years, exploring them. I’m willing to bet Chvaxta collected some very useful household utensils during that time, but I have no objections to that. He’ll be around if you need him.”

“Do you really think they’re such fools, sir?” Melamori said. “If I were them I’d flee somewhere beyond Uguland, or even leave the Unified Kingdom altogether.”

“Jiffa can’t survive very far from the vicinity of Uguland. The spells lose some of their power there,” Juffin said. “Everything depends on how much his life is worth to his followers. All right now, get along with you. Keep in touch, hear?”

“You bet we will,” I said. “Want to come with us?”

“I’d love to. Magicians as my witnesses, I’d love to accompany you. But a case has to be closed by the one who started it. With no involvement from outside.”

“That’s true. Absolutely crazy, senseless, and illogical, but true. I understand.”

“Of course you understand,” Juffin said with a sigh, more sad than mocking.

This time I drove even faster than usual, but I found no pleasure in it. I was overwhelmed by a single, anguished, uncontrollable desire: to catch up with the person whose trace I had stood on. Nothing else mattered to me—not the insane speed, or the intoxicating aroma of the flowering trees all around us, or Lady Melamori in the back seat, still and silent, in the grip of the same desire.

After about half an hour, I suddenly felt a sense of immense relief. I braked in astonishment and stared at the absolutely empty road.

“What’s wrong, Max?” Melamori said anxiously.

“I don’t know. I just have the feeling that I’ve arrived. Only where could they be?”

“I see. Your man has died.” She sighed. “It’s no surprise. How was he able to withstand even this much, poor thing?”

“He’s dead?”

“Yes. I wasn’t joking when I said that when you stand on someone’s trace his heart stops beating. It was no mere metaphor, believe me. Okay, let’s trade places. Your man may have died, but mine is still alive and kicking.”

“As you wish. I’m not much good for anything right now,” I said, climbing into the back seat.

Melamori got behind the levers. She had every chance of winning our recent wager. She took off at fifty miles an hour right off the bat—twice as fast as the average Echoer. It was quite an achievement for a beginner.

“I seem to be getting the hang of it, don’t I?” she said. “I’m going a lot faster than usual, don’t you think, Max?”

“You certainly are. You’re doing great, Melamori. The rest is just a matter of time. In the beginning I didn’t drive any faster than you’re driving now, remember?”

“Speed is even better than reaching the end of a trace!” Melamori was ecstatic. “It’s indescribable!”

Then she fell silent and concentrated on the road. I made myself comfortable, lit up a cigarette, and stared out the window. I thought for a moment, then sent a call to Juffin.

My man kicked the bucket
,
it seems
.
Now Melamori is our only hope
.

Jeepers! Not bad
.
When you reach the spot where they got out of the amobiler
,
try to stand on the other trace
.
Maybe you
’
ll bury the second one
,
too
.
Then Jiffa will be a sitting duck
.
You
’
ll be able to catch him with your bare hands
.

Okay
,
I
’
ll try
.

Good
,
good
.
Chvaxta Chiyam is already waiting for you at the edge of the Magaxon Forest
.
The trace is leading in that direction
,
isn’t it?

“Melamori, are we still driving toward the Magaxon Forest?” I said.

“What? Yes, that’s where we’re headed,” she said absently.

Correct
, I told Juffin.

Fine
.
Everything is unfolding just as it should
.
Well
,
is it over and out yet? Any more questions?

I suppose not
.
Oh
,
wait! I wanted to ask you before—whose house was that?

Good question
,
Max
.
Our Main Archive produced some completely useless information
.
The house belongs to the Xitta family
.
A year ago it was rented out to one Lady Brisse Xlonn
.
Her papers are fine—like it
’
s such an important document to forge
,
a rent contract
.
The neighbors claim that they almost never see her there
.
Who is this Lady Brisse Xlonn
,
anyway? There
’
s no one in Echo with a name like that
.
I sent Melifaro to sniff out whatever he could
.
I
’
ll let you know if I find out something
.
Over and out already?

Over and out
.

I sighed, and then fell to thinking. Lady Brisse Xlonn. For some reason the name struck me as very unpleasant. But what could she have to do with anything?

An hour later, a tall figure in a dark-red looxi loomed up at the side of the road.

“Sir Chvaxta Chiyam, I presume.” I touched Melamori’s shoulder. “Stop here for a second, will you?”

“You’re killing me, Max,” she grumbled. “Okay, I’ll try.” And our amobiler came to a screeching halt next to the stranger.

“Get in, quick!”

I didn’t have to ask the fellow twice. In a moment he was sitting in the front seat, staring back at me with round, owlish eyes of a nondescript color.

“Sir Chvaxta Chiyam?” I said.

How embarrassing if he were just a random fellow on his way to pick berries in the forest. Though a man with a vacant stare like that (what was he—a vagrant? a killer?) would hardly be out on a berry-picking expedition.

The man nodded and continued to study my face intently. Perhaps he just didn’t know how to blink.

“You weren’t sure who he was?” Melamori snickered. “Come on, Max! You should have found out before inviting him into the amobiler.”

“I have my own methods.”

“Oh, it’s a
method
.”

Hearing Melamori’s voice, our new passenger turned to face her. It seemed to have just dawned on him that there was someone else in the amobiler besides him and me. Now it was Melamori’s turn to have the strange eyes bore into her.

“Are you familiar with our case?” I tried to start a casual conversation about workaday matters.

The fellow turned to me again and shook his head. “I know that I’m supposed to show you the forest and the underground system of the Magaxon Foxes, if necessary. I’ll show you,” he said blandly.