The Stranger - Max Frei [177]
“You’re quite right,” the Master Eavesdropper affirmed. “If there is an opposition, it’s not in Echo. And if someone’s grumbling about something in some Landalanda—”
“Ooooh, we’re scared, aren’t we?” Nuflin interjected. “We don’t even know where to hide. Well, that’s enough of that. Juffin, tell me how your little plan is going to work, and let’s be done with it. By the way, your boy here hasn’t had a wink of sleep in more than twenty-four hours. Are you aware of that? You shouldn’t drive your people so hard. You always were such a mean fellow.”
“He’s driving himself, without any outside help,” the boss said with a grin. “As for the reforms, for every chef an Earring of Oxalla, the same as your novices have. And let them experiment in the kitchen with Forbidden Magic, whether black or white. Only up to the twentieth degree, of course. More than that is out of the question.”
“Oh, Juffin. Why would they need more? That’s all an honest person needs to make a great meal.”
“Yes. And at the same time we can be sure that they will never resolve to ask for more. Whatever else it may be, it’s an extra safety measure.”
“Why didn’t you say something sooner, Juffin? Were you waiting until I came up with the idea myself? They cook very well for me already. Who would have thought! Now everyone will be able to get a tasty meal, just like in the good old days! They’ll put up statues of us in front of every tavern! And young Gurig, too, so his nose won’t be out of joint.”
I followed the conversation with rapt attention, and while much of it was over my head, I was able to figure out that the Code of Krember would no longer prevent culinary masterpieces from seeing the light of day. This rather alarmed me. If I had been a terrible glutton until now, what would become of me under the new dispensation? What if I expanded to Boboota’s dimensions? Lady Melamori would fear me even more than she did already.
At a certain moment, I began to sense that there was another witness to our conversation—an invisible one. I even detected a familiar condescending chuckle. Was it possible that Maba Kalox’s curiosity extended to such pedestrian affairs? In any case, I knew only one person who was fond of being invisibly present at important events.
Magician Nuflin interrupted my musings.
“What do you think about all this, young man? Do you also like to eat well?”
“I do. True, you’ll never make a chef out of me. So my views on the subject completely coincide with those of Maba Kalox—it doesn’t matter where the food comes from, as long as it goes down well. Am I making myself clear?” I asked in a servile tone, fixing my gaze on a spot on the ceiling, from which Sir Maba seemed to be observing us.
Frankly speaking, this was a joke meant especially for Sir Juffin Hully. I thought my boss would pick up on the allusion, and that the others wouldn’t notice it at all. Instead, all three of them began staring at me like amateur botanists examining a rare carnivorous plant—in horror mixed with ecstasy.
“Oh, Juffin,” the Grand Magician exclaimed, breaking the silence. “What a nose your boy has! To sniff out the old rascal Maba—who would have thought? Where did you find him?”
“About where we buried Loiso Pondoxo in his time. A place even more remote, though.”
“What can I say Juffin—he’s worth his weight in gold!”
I instinctively sensed that the Grand Magician was staring at me again. I won’t say I was entirely happy about this, but I tolerated it patiently. Nuflin watched me intently for a time, and then began to speak again.
“Young man, ask that sly old fox Juffin when the last time was that old Nuflin was taken by surprise. Well, you don’t even have to ask