The Stranger's Woes (46 page)

Melamori gave a hesitant laugh and took off her shoes, and we both went upstairs.

“Yep, here’s his trace,” she said as soon as she crossed the threshold. “Maybe this Sir Ariama was once a Senior Magician, but I don’t think he was an especially ferocious wizard.”

“No, not one of the Grand Magicians,” I said. “Just some young talent.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure. During the Epoch of Orders it was often the case that some Grand Magician retired or took too much time pursuing magic of his own. Then the real power in the order was exercised by Senior Magicians. Junior Magicians, who were pretty numerous, were rarely taken seriously, even when there was every reason for it. But you know that yourself.”

“Let’s go, though.” I nudged the garrulous lady softly toward the stairs. “Let’s find this old geezer real quick, and then I’ll treat you to a mug of kamra, for old time’s sake. Okay?”

“No,” said Melamori, smiling. “I’d rather have something stronger.”

“As you say. Everything will be as you say. Absolutely everything.”

“Indeed. Sooner or later, somehow or other.”

I winced. I could clearly hear the tone of the Kettarian Sheriff Mackie Ainti in Melamori’s voice. But she shook her bangs and laughed, and we went out into the street. There the wind from the Xuron quickly swept away the remains of my delusion.

We found Varixa Ariama in the
Irrashi Coat of Arms.
He was about to dig into some exotic dish. By the time we arrived, the poor fellow had lost his appetite and was suffering from heartburn. When Melamori steps on someone’s trace, even worse things happen to people.

Our prey glanced warily at my Mantle of Death and took his arrest as the lesser evil. Granted, his heartburn disappeared as soon as Melamori stepped off of his trace. We took the former Senior Magician to the House by the Bridge and turned him in to Juffin.

“I promised to treat the lady to some poison,” I said. “May I be excused?”

“Yes, you may,” said Juffin. “Until tomorrow. And please try to get some sleep tonight. Tomorrow may turn out to be a tough day. Or it may not—but I want to see you in my office tomorrow before noon. Mind you, I want to see
you
, not just your body snoring under my table.”

“You’re being unfair. I never snore under your table. I have learned to make a decent bed from the chairs.” I turned to Melamori. “Shall we go?”

“If we can decide where,” she said with a nod.

We went out onto the street by the House by the Bridge and hesitated at the intersection. Sometimes choice is a curse rather than a blessing. Then I heard Melifaro’s voice in my head.

What’s up
,
Max?

I’m standing on the Street of Copper Pots with Lady Melamori
,
trying to decide where to go for a drink
.

Shirkers
.
Okay
,
tell our Lady Moonstruck that her goggle-eyed pretty boy is walking around the city with his hairy beast
.
He’s so depressed
,
it pains me to look at him
.
No one except our Melamori will listen to his songs
.
By the way
,
I’m getting tired of following him around
.
Does Juffin really believe that someone may hurt this big hulk? Anyway
,
I was going to ask you to keep me company
,
but I see you’re busy
.

Not at all
.
Where are you?

In the New City
,
not too far from your place
.
Oh
,
our overgrown teenager just dropped into the
Armstrong & Ella.
Looks like a nice little tavern
.

Say what? What is it called
,
again?

You heard right
.
It’s the
Armstrong & Ella.
They named it after your cats
.
The place opened right after that tubby guy you adopted wrote about them in the
Royal Voice.
I thought you knew
.

How could I have known? I was out of town for a year
.
Oh boy! This is something I’ve got to see
.
What’s the address?

It’s Number Sixteen on the Street of Forgotten Dreams
.
So
,
are you guys coming?

You bet!

I turned to Melamori. “Melifaro’s waiting for us in the
Armstrong & Ella
. Can you believe it?”

“Oh, the one named after your cats?” she said, smiling. Then the smile disappeared. “Do you really want to go there? Because I don’t. Sir Melifaro’s acting very huffy toward me. He won’t let us talk.”

“But I’m not in a huff. Isn’t that enough?” I said, and lightly flicked the end of her nose. “Besides, it wasn’t his idea to go there. He’s guarding your precious Arvaroxian treasure, who at this very moment is enjoying himself over there.”

“Really?” said Melamori. “Then let’s go. But may I drive, please?”

“You not only may, you must. You promised to give me a ride, and this is your chance.”

Melamori drove very fast. For someone who thought that thirty miles an hour was the maximum speed of the amobiler for the first hundred years of her life, she was doing great. All the way to the tavern we were silent—the contemplative, peaceful silence that grows between two old friends. I was beginning to understand that a strong friendship had its advantages over passion, as Juffin Hully once wisely observed.

The Street of Forgotten Dreams was easy to find. It crossed the Street of Yellow Stones just two blocks from my house. Strange that I had never walked here.

“There’s Number Sixteen,” said Melamori. “Hey, look!
Armstrong & Ella
. That’s a real honor.”

“True,” I said. “You know, I’m honestly flattered.”

A tall, slender girl in a black looxi flew out of the tavern toward us. Her head was surrounded by a shock of thick silvery curls that looked like a halo. Her dark eyes stared at me. She seemed to find the spectacle so attractive that without a moment’s hesitation she dashed up to me and draped herself over my shoulder. When she touched me, I felt as if I had been struck by a bolt of lightning: I was hot, and colorful spots danced before my eyes. I shook my head, trying to get a grip on myself.

“You are Sir Max.”

It wasn’t a question; it was a statement. I didn’t want to disappoint her, so I nodded and began waiting for the situation to unfold.

“Amazing,” said Melamori. “Women fall all over you.”

“They do, don’t they?” I said, looking intently at the woman who was gripping my shoulder. “Has something happened?”

“Come with me. There’s a fight going on in there,” she said, pointing at the tavern. “They’re killing everyone!”

“What?”

I dashed for the doors, Melamori following close behind me. We burst into the tavern and stopped dead in our tracks. Sir Melifaro was standing on a table with the air of a conqueror. Aloxto Allirox, though covered in blood—his or someone else’s—was alive and imperturbable. He was wiping off his “machete” with the fold of his cape. When he saw Melamori he smiled the lovesick smile of a Romeo, which even the mighty Arvaroxian genes weren’t immune to, it seemed. About a dozen dead bodies lay on the floor. Their faces looked like those of ordinary Echo dwellers, but their bodies betrayed their Arvaroxian origin.

“What took you so long, Nightmare? We could have used some of your infamous poison around here. Still, we managed on our own, as you can plainly see,” Melifaro said proudly. “You missed your chance to witness the greatest battle of the Code Epoch. But now you’re here, and the caravan has already pulled away, as my Isamonian guest likes to put it.”

“So, what happened here?” I said, heaving a sigh of relief and sitting down in an uncomfortable chair.

Melifaro hopped off the table and sat down beside me. The woman in the black looxi went behind the bar and started filling glasses. I finally realized that she was the proprietor of the tavern. She returned and placed the glasses before us on the table. I sniffed the unfamiliar beverage. It smelled of apples and honey but scorched the throat something awful.

“Thank you,” said Melamori, the first to recover her good manners.

“Don’t mention it. I’m just doing my job.” The woman smiled and retreated behind the bar again. I could feel her dark eyes drilling into the back of my head.

Aloxto Allirox bowed to Melifaro. Unbelievable! Until now, this great warrior had barely deigned to nod, even when greeting the king.

“I am grateful to you,” he said. “If it hadn’t been for you, I would have had to die without finishing my business. What could be worse than that? You are a hero and a great shaman. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. I was just doing my job,” said Melifaro.

The proprietor of the
Armstrong & Ella
laughed quietly on hearing Melifaro repeat her words.

“I’m still all ears,” I said.

“Well, here’s what happened. Sir Aloxto was sitting at that table over there, and I was sitting at the bar. I was just waiting for you and trying not to bother our guest too much. Then I heard the door open and thought it was you. When I looked around I saw these beauty boys shaking their battle slingshots. One of them fired at Aloxto with his Baboom, but Aloxto managed to duck just in time. To tell the truth, I lost my bearings for a moment, so the boys had time to fight for real. If you can call six against one ‘for real.’ How many did you kill, Aloxto?”