The Stranger - Max Frei [176]
“Oh, that’s more like it,” I said, getting down to business. “Now I’ll make a fool of myself, you’ll demote me to janitor, and everything will be fine.”
“No need for false modesty,” Juffin said, tasting my concoction. “Today it’s even better than last time.”
Exactly one hour before sundown, Sir Kofa Yox appeared, this time in his own guise, and enveloped in a splendid dark purple looxi. Never before had I seen such a rich hue. It almost seemed to glow from within.
“Only Sir Kofa has the privilege of dressing like that,” Juffin informed me. “After all, he’s been keeping the peace in this blasted town for two hundred years. Back then, the position of Head of City Police inspired far more respect than the title of Grand Magician. And it wasn’t just by chance—it was thanks to Sir Kofa that the philistines of Echo went almost unscathed in the Troubled Times. I could kill him for it: I’m sick of them, these philistines!”
“Mea culpa,” Sir Kofa muttered, his eyes downcast. “What could I do? I’d taken an oath.”
“But how did it come about that General Boboota occupied your post?” I asked. “Intrigue?”
Juffin and Kofa exchanged glances and exploded in laughter.
I blinked dully, uncomprehending.
“Boy, you still don’t understand where you’re working,” Sir Kofa said, after he had regained his composure. “Let me explain—it was a promotion. And what a promotion it was! What you don’t seem to realize is that Sir Juffin is second-in-command in the country.”
“After the King?”
“No, after Magician Nuflin, of course. And you and I and His Majesty Gurig VIII are trailing behind somewhere among the first twelve.”
“Well, I’ll be!” I said, shaking my head in vexation.
“Don’t worry, Max, that’s just the unofficial version of the ladder of hierarchy. It doesn’t change anything. Let’s go.”
And off we went to Jafax.
The Transparent Gates of Jafax Castle, the Residence of the Order of the Seven-Leaf Clover, the Single and Most Beneficent, open only twice a day: at sunrise and sunset. Early in the morning they are opened for representatives of the Royal Court and other important people. And at dusk, shady characters like us make our way inside. People think that the Minor Secret Investigative Force is the most sinister organization in the Unified Kingdom, though an initiate knows this is absurd.
The Grand Magician of the Order of the Seven-Leaf Clover, Nuflin Moni Mak, was waiting for us in a dark, spacious hall. It was nearly impossible to make out his face in the thick gloom. Suddenly I realized he hadn’t had a face for a long time already. To be more precise, the old man had forgotten what his own face looked like, and therefore no one else was able to descry its features. I also understood that the Grand Magician himself had seen fit to convey this silent information to me.
“You can’t imagine what a great joy it is that I’ve been able to stay alive until your visit, gentlemen! And what do you know, stay alive I did, until this very day!”
Magician Nuflin’s voice witnessed to a venerable old age, but its jangling chords concealed such incredible power that I shrank from him. He sounded slightly mocking and thoroughly amiable. He seemed to feel no need to intimidate his guests—like anyone who truly knows his own power.
“Have you been under Juffin’s tutelage for a long time already?” Nuflin Moni Mak asked, staring at me in frank curiosity. “How do you like it, this apprenticeship? They say you’re doing quite well. No need to be shy around Old Man Nuflin, Max. You should either be terrified of me, or not fear me at all. The first alternative seems rather pointless—we’re not enemies. You don’t have to answer, just sit down and listen to what the wise old folks say. You can tell your grandchildren about it. But then again, you can’t possibly have any grandchildren at your age!”
I took the Grand Magician’s advice and sat down on a comfortable, low divan. My older colleagues followed suit.
“Juffin, you are fond of a good meal,” Nuflin remarked affably. “It’s a wonder you waited so long with this amendment.