The Stranger's Woes (23 page)

“Well, we’re on the same page there,” I said with absolute sincerity, stroking my burning neck absently. Then it dawned on me. “You know, I’m the luckiest person in the Universe!” My voice cracked and a slight sob escaped. My imagination is too obliging, so the vision of my own head a few feet away from my body hovered before my mind’s eye. I must admit, it was a sad sight.

“Did you just realize that?”

“No, but do you know what I did before I left home?”

“What?”

“I donned my talisman—the kerchief of the Grand Magician of the Order of the Secret Grass. It’s something Juffin entrusted to me, and after my return from Kettari he told me never to fall asleep without wearing it. In short, I thought our little hike might turn out to be a protracted affair and I would want to take a snooze at some point. And since I’m so scatterbrained, I put it on right away, just in case. Now the old rag is gone. I guess it burned up along with the Thin Death, or whatever it’s called.”

“The kerchief of Grand Magician Xonna?” Melamori frowned. “Yes, Max, you are incredibly lucky. Xonna’s kerchief is probably the only thing that could protect you from the Thin Death.”

“Ah, so that’s his name. It’s the first time I’ve ever heard it.”

“That’s because hardly anyone knows it. And whoever knows it has no desire to speak the name aloud. You see, the Order of the Secret Grass was renowned for its methods of defense. The members were very peace-loving people, compared to those in other Orders. They never attacked first, but they knew thousands of defense tactics against any danger or threat—including the Thin Death, luckily for you. As for the name of the Grand Magician, you can utter it out loud only if you are well disposed toward him. Otherwise you’ll die on the spot, and no wisewoman or healer can save you. It’s one of his little eccentricities.”

“And yet you risk it?” I asked, alarmed.

“Oh, it’s no risk for me. Grand Magician Xonna was one of my childhood heroes. And since his kerchief saved your life, I’d even throw myself at his feet if he showed up here!”

“Thank you, Melamori.” Her confession just about left me speechless. “But where is he now, this Man with the Terrible Name? What is he doing?”

“No one knows. He went off to wander somewhere. In the very heat of the battle for the Code, he lost interest in the whole business. He announced that practicing magic in Uguland, the very Heart of the World, was without merit. A true wizard must acquire his powers in the back of beyond. In short, he abandoned everything and left his men to deal with the mess of war by themselves. But why am I telling you all this? Ask Melifaro—all his relatives were in thick with the Order of the Secret Grass. If it weren’t for the Code, our Melifaro would be one of the Junior Magicians there.”

“I’ll ask him about it,” I said. “Hey, where’s our guide, the marvelous Sir Chvaxta?”

“I have no idea,” Melamori said, looking around uneasily. “Could he have run off without us?”

“Juffin told me to keep an eye on him because he wasn’t much of a warrior. As if we had time for keeping an eye on him! I’ll bet he’s already home by now.”

Melamori gave a hearty laugh. I reflected for a moment, then chimed in. We sat on the ground at the feet of the surrealistic corpse with the bird’s head and howled with laughter. It was impossible to stop ourselves, but after the adventures we had just had, it was no wonder.

“Chvaxta is very lucky that you didn’t kill Jiffa. If you had, there would have been only one way to get out of here: standing on the trace of that deserter. Maybe we should punish the coward anyway?”

“No, we must spare Chvaxta. He’s a funny fellow.”

“Funny, yes.” Melamori smiled uncertainly.

“Well, shall we go get a bit of fresh air?” I said.

“I’d love to! Call your trusty slave.”

“Here Jiffa,” I ordered.

The sad, red-haired dead man who had caused us so much trouble approached obediently.

“Take us up to the surface. By the shortest route. Understand?”

“Yes, Master.”

I helped Melamori off the ground, and Jiffa led the way into the depths of the spacious underground chamber.

Melamori was still contemplating the deceased dame with the bird’s head. “She wanted to turn me into that, didn’t she, Max?”

“Who else was there but you? She thought I was already a goner. But don’t dwell on it. It didn’t happen.”

“How did you deal with her?”

“Exactly how I dealt with the other undead. Lonli-Lokli says the Lethal Sphere obeys my inner desires. And in the depths of my soul, according to his theory, I don’t want to kill people so much as to subjugate their wills like any run-of-the-mill tyrant or despot. Luckily, Shurf is an excellent theoretician.”

“That’s for sure. And you, praise be the Magicians, are good at putting theory into practice. I wonder who she is? I feel that I know her from somewhere.”

“Who is this woman, Jiffa?” I asked my vassal.

“Lady Tanna Kuraisa, Master.”

“Yes, of course! It’s Magician Atva’s sister,” Melamori said. “He dragged her into this mess. What a wretch!”

“Did he lure her into it, or did she lure him, Jiffa?” I said. “Tell us how it was.”

“Lady Tanna was in love with me,” Jiffa said impassively. “I spent a few nights with her, but I attached no significance to it. When the retired Magicians deprived me of my band of men, Tanna forced her brother to find a way to return my life to me. Tanna was quite a witch herself: she had been brought up by the women of the Order of Grilles and Mirrors. But she had no knowledge of how to revive the dead. The women of the Orders are rarely taught how to do such trivial things. Atva feared her very much. At first his sister threatened to kill him for taking part in the hunt, but she spared him when he agreed to help her. As you can see, Atva restored my life to me, but he did a poor job of it. It would have been better if he had left well enough alone . . . At first I was just a moribund puppet like the rest of the undead. I wasn’t the real Jiffa Savanxa. So I don’t know how I lived in those first years. I simply don’t remember. But Tanna didn’t waste any time. She was a fast learner. Little by little, drop by drop, she returned my real life to me until at last I had become the person I was before they killed me. That happened early one morning in autumn, almost six years ago. I remember the day well. A cold wind was blowing, so strong the branches broke off the trees and fell to the ground, and a strange bird was screeching in the yard.” Jiffa went silent, then murmured, “Now Tanna is dead, and almost nothing remains of me. It must be that some spells die with their conjurors.”

“Well, you’re in a fine mess,” I said with real sympathy. “That’s what you call ‘love unto the grave.’ And beyond, too. What all-conquering passion! All right, Jiffa. I think I understand your story, but who revived the others?”

“I did,” Jiffa said blandly. “Magician Atva helped me a little. It wasn’t very hard. But I couldn’t make them as they were before, and Tanna didn’t want me to. She didn’t like the whole affair.”

“Didn’t like it?” I said in surprise. “She started the whole thing herself!”

“Tanna only wanted me. She thought if she restored my life to me I would stay with her forever, grateful and submissive. But I wanted to go back to the Magaxon Forest. I missed my former way of life. There was always a sense of something lacking, something that would make me feel completely alive again if I could only find it, and I thought—”

“You thought that if you went back to the forest and gathered your band of men around you, everything would be just as it used to be?”

“Yes,” Jiffa said. “But nothing came of it. I found stupid puppets in place of my former merry men, and an emptiness in my chest in place of my former joyous heart. That’s the worst thing—knowing something could be much better than it really is. Tell me, are you going to kill me now?”

“Probably. What else can I do with you?”

“That’s good,” he nodded, pleased.

Meanwhile, the earthen vaults were pressing down on us. Soon we had to begin crawling on our hands and knees. Then we emerged outside again and found ourselves in the same ravine where we had had our little picnic earlier that morning. Or in another one that looked just like it.

It was dark, damp, and very dank. While we had been wandering through the lairs of the Magaxon brigands, here, on the surface of the earth, it had been raining. I started shivering from the cold, and Melamori’s teeth chattered. Only Jiffa remained unaffected by the climatic inconsistencies.

“Where is our amobiler? That’s what I’d like to know.” Melamori looked around angrily. “Grrr, just wait till I get my hands on that so-called guide.”

“I’ve got a bag there with warm things,” I said, and turned to face Jiffa. “Show us the entrance to the lair that you and Lady Tanna used earlier today.”

“As you wish.”

He turned around and marched into a thicket with a determined stride. We followed after him. Wet branches lashed at our faces, and mud squelched under our feet.

“I sent a call to Sir Juffin, Max,” Melamori said. “I told him everything was fine. I described what happened—without all the details, of course. We’ll get around to those later. I wanted to know whether we should deliver Jiffa to the House by the Bridge.”

“And?”

“He said no,” Melamori said.

“That’s good. Why should he go back to Echo, a place he never really loved? Let him die here in his own forest, where he already died once before.”

Jiffa, meanwhile, had stopped by the enormous boulder that marked the entrance to the lair.

“Here we are,” he said. “Is that all? Will you kill me now?”

“Hold on a minute. Take us to the amobiler. Do you remember where you dumped it?”

“Yes.” Jiffa set out hurriedly along a little footpath.

“Have you really found out everything you needed to know from him?” Melamori asked.

“I sure haven’t! Thanks for reminding me. Where did you hide the treasures you robbed, Jiffa? In the lair?”

“No. We gave it to Atva, and he took it all away. I never even asked him where. Maybe he squandered it all—I don’t know. It didn’t matter to us. We didn’t need it. We just robbed because we were used to that way of life.”

“And who killed those who took part in the Royal Hunt? I mean all those Junior Magicians who killed you and your men back in the day?”

“No one killed them. Tanna cast a spell on them when she knew for certain that they had done her a disservice. She realized I would never be the way I used to be, and wouldn’t stay with her, either. The women of the Order of Grilles and Mirrors know how to conjure, that they do. Tanna staged her brother’s death just to deflect suspicions. Someone might have wondered why, of all the hunters chasing down the Magaxon Foxes, only Atva remained alive. Besides, she was afraid they would catch me and there would be dire consequences for her and her brother. Tanna was very angry with Atva and me when we revived the others and took up robbing again. Strange, isn’t it? She must really have loved me—even the person I became only through her efforts. She stopped short of nothing. Atva died soon after you stepped on his trace. He always was a weakling. But Tanna—it didn’t affect her in the least. It only made her furious. Well, here we are. There are the amobilers. I’m very tired. I feel that I’m fading away altogether. Soon there won’t be anything left of me at all, only an inane walking and talking body, as stupid as all the others. I’m frightened! Better kill me while I’m still here.”

“All right.”

I felt no pity for Jiffa, but I was on his side in this story. I hate coercion, and what they had done to him seemed to me to be the worst form of coercion imaginable. I looked at the face of the red-haired robber, still beautiful but carved with wrinkles and gash-like scars, and I chuckled grimly to myself. Yeah, it’s dangerous to be a ladies’ man.

That’s when I made my decision.

“I order you to become the real Jiffa Savanxa,” I said firmly, with no second thoughts but not really understanding what I was doing. “I order you to vacate this World, to discover the place where Jiffa Savanxa will be happy, and to become him there. Come on, mate, do it!”

Dead Jiffa’s dull eyes flashed with evil, joyous fire. He stared at me with hatred and admiration at the same time. Then he collapsed in the grass, bellowing not so much in pain as in ecstasy, and disappeared.