Peter & Max - Bill Willingham [101]
In response to her request, Max narrated a truncated and mostly fictional account of his history, up until his arrival in the mundy world. He omitted any mention of his conflict with Peter, nor his dealings with the Hamelin of the Hesse.
“He’s lying,” a voice said from behind him, once Max had concluded his story. Max turned to see that an old woman sat behind him, in a rocking chair that occupied one corner of the room that he would have sworn was empty when they’d first arrived. She had steel gray hair, and her face and hands were a symphony of wrinkles and wrines. She wore a faded print dress of small white flowers against a green field. She knitted from a straw basket in her lap as she rocked gently back and forth.
“Frau Totenkinder, I didn’t know you’d be joining us,” a flustered Ichabod said. He scrubbed frantically at his glasses with the end of his black necktie.
“I hadn’t planned to,” Totenkinder said, “but dear old Max got my attention when he arrived. I’ve past history with the man that I thought you should be made aware of before you do anything rash, like invite him to sign our compact.”
“I’ve never seen this person in my life,” Max said.
“Not like this,” Totenkinder said. “I was younger and prettier when you borrowed that flute from me.”
“Oh, it’s you,” Max said, and his eyes narrowed, perhaps to conceal the dangerous look that steeled their way into them. “Once again I have to remind you that Fire isn’t yours, it’s mine.”
“Only in the sense that you’ve managed to prevent me from taking it back so far,” she said.
“Yes,” Max said, “I could feel you tugging at it over the years, but it’s happy in my possession and not likely to abandon me for more centuries spent sitting ignored on a shelf. Fire likes to play and create among the myriad worlds. It has no love of rest and idleness.”
“I don’t understand what’s going on between the two of you,” Snow interrupted, “but one thing’s for certain. If we accept you into our community, you wouldn’t be allowed to keep any dangerous magic implements you bring with you. I assume this ‘Fire’ the two of you refer to is that flute you carry?”
“It is, but —”
“Then you will have to surrender it for storage in our Business Office,” Snow continued. “One of the non-negotiable conditions of Fabletown citizenship is that all magic items spirited out of the Homelands are held communally, for the use and benefit of all of us.”
“A sensible ordinance,” Max said, with a crafty smile, “and one which I’ll gladly obey. Of course, among its many virtues, Fire is indeed, as you’ve surmised, a dangerous weapon. More than once it’s saved me from a tough scrape with the Empire’s forces. But, since no imperial troops rule here, in this cozy island of peace and refuge, I don’t need a dangerous weapon anymore, do I? However, in the interests of public safety, I’d need to train someone in the proper means of handling and storing it, which might take some time.”
“There’s no end to this reptile’s deception,” Totenkinder said. “If the two of you can’t see he’s lying, then I fear for our future under your administration. Max Piper has no intention of surrendering his flute. I believe his sole purpose in attempting to join Fabletown is so that he can learn the whereabouts of his brother, Peter — one of the few secrets that are beyond Fire’s powers to reveal.”
“Oh? Is my brother here?” Max said. “I had no idea. But yes, if that’s the case, of course I want a reunion with him. Families should be together, but we’ve been kept apart from each other for too long.”
“He tried to kill Peter in the past and plans to try again,” Totenkinder said.
“My understanding is that all sins of the past are washed away, once I sign the Fabletown Compact. Is that not the case? If not, then there are many past deeds this witch has perpetrated