The Stranger - Max Frei [101]
“Just watch how I can take offense! Just see me spit!” I grimaced madly.
“I might otherwise be struck with terror, but my position won’t allow it,” Juffin said, grinning. “It is widely believed that I fear nothing and no one. I can’t just up and fly in the face of the honored traditions of the Secret Investigative Force.”
“By the way, apropos of traditions,” I said, recalling recent events. “What are so-called close friends expected to do for one another? I’m not joking, I really need to know.”
“What are you talking about, Max? Who are you calling your ‘close friends’? Give me some background.”
“Well, last night I overindulged in Elixir of Kaxar and patted Sir Shurf on the back. He seemed perfectly happy with this, so everything’s fine. There must be some friendship traditions I have to uphold so as not to offend him, though. Am I guessing right?”
“No, I don’t recall anything of that nature,” Juffin said, furrowing his brow. “I don’t think anyone is required to do anything in particular. You don’t have to address him as ‘sir’ anymore, although you seem to have stopped doing that already anyway. Sinning Magicians! What am I trying to explain? Friendship is friendship! By the way, if you recall, I once did the same to you.”
“Yes, but—”
I grew confused and fell silent. It’s awkward to admit to a person that you consider him to be the Great Exception to all possible rules. It’s too close to crude flattery.
But Juffin understood already anyway.
“You mean to say that I’m just one of the guys, but Lonli-Lokli is a true gentleman? Yes, that’s one way of looking at it, but you’re in luck, Max! There are no particular rituals for such a situation. Well, except for the fact that now when you visit Shurf, you have the right to take a bath at his house and spend the night. And he has the same right—though I question whether he would take advantage of it. All right, Sir Max, a few Days of Freedom from Care are no less than you deserve, so I won’t detain you any longer.”
“That sounds like you’re showing me the door,” I said with a smile. “I even feel a bit hurt. Not show up on duty for two days? I’ll die of boredom!”
“I’m glad you like your job. Now you’ve got to get some rest, though. And no adventures! I’m saying that to you as a healer. Understand?”
In the corridor of the Ministry I ran into General Boboota Box. He bared his teeth in the semblance of a smile, his face crimson. The poor chap seemed to be on the verge of fainting. When he saw my Mantle of Death, the illustrious General Boboota understood that he had acquired a very dangerous enemy. I could only sympathize.
Joking aside, passing by the Sated Skeleton I heard two middle-aged ladies in heated argument. If I’m not mistaken, they were playing Krak, the local version of poker. And, inevitably, they were both cheating. They made so much noise that they couldn’t hear the melodious tinkle of the bells on my boots. “May Sir Max spit on you!” one of them screamed at the other.
Unbelievable! I plunked myself down on the mosaic sidewalk and let my head fall into my hands. I sat like that for ten minutes or more. I kept repeating, like a mantra, Juffin’s advice: “Get used to it, and try to enjoy it.”
Then I got up and walked home. What else could I do?
CHAPTER FOUR
THE STRANGER
AS SOON AS SOMEONE DECIDES THAT HE HAS MADE HIS PEACE WITH himself and the world around him, his best friends, as though on cue, will start doing everything in their power to relieve him of the illusion. This has been tested on a live human being. On me, to be exact.
I returned to the House by the Bridge after several days of blissful lethargy, clouded only by the installment of a fourth bathing pool in my house. I walked down the corridor, wrapped in my splendid Mantle of Death, anticipating a pleasant meeting with colleagues. And, to tell the truth, they didn’t let me down.
At the door leading into our side of the building, Melifaro rushed up to me. The fact that in his haste the guy stomped on my foot and elbowed