The Stranger - Max Frei [178]
I was completely stunned by what had just happened, but I decided that I shouldn’t explain or excuse myself. If Grand Magician Nuflin Moni Mak thought I was a genius—well, so be it! I was embarrassed, though Juffin looked pleased. And I did have a request.
“If you really want to make me happy, it’s all in your power,” I said, making an effort to be deferential, although this didn’t really seem necessary.
“Oy vey, Max, I already know that everything is in my power without you telling me so,” the old man said with a grin. “Just give it to me straight.”
“Please allow me to wear my regular clothes. Not when I’m on duty, of course, but in my free time.” I fiddled demonstratively with the hem of my black and gold Mantle of Death. “It’s crucial that I wear it at work, and it is truly very beautiful. But sometimes I just want to go unnoticed, to have a rest from people’s stares. All the more since it turns out that I don’t have to be angry or frightened to be poisonous. Experience has shown that this ability is always present in me. You needn’t be afraid of upsetting me, though. I’m very even-tempered when I keep myself in check.”
“Who would have suspected—such a good boy, and so lethal!” Nuflin exclaimed gaily.
“Thank Magician Maxlilgl Annox for that,” Juffin said, smiling. “Do you remember him?”
“How could I forget? Such a small fellow, and so serious. So he’s the one who presented you with that gift, Max? How wise of him—to do something of benefit to someone in the end. So, Juffin, does he speak the truth? Does he really have such a poisonous mouth? And is it possible to work with him even when he’s being kind?”
“Max isn’t wise enough to begin lying to you. Perhaps in about three hundred years . . .”
“Oy, Praise to the Heavens, I refuse to live that long! Here’s what I would say to you, Max. When you’re not working, dress however you please. And keep in mind that you’ll be in my debt for this favor! It’s not every day that old Nuflin changes established tradition.”
“I can’t tell you how grateful I am to you!”
I was elated. I had been granted freedom—the priceless freedom of being a person no one notices. I would be able to chat with pretty tavernkeepers, share my tobacco with nice old men, make friends with stray dogs. What else do you need to be happy?
“When you get older, you’ll understand that it’s not all these other silly people who need the Mantle of Death, but you yourself,” the Grand Magician said meaningfully. “Think about wise old Nuflin then! The Mantle of Death, like the Mantle of the Grand Magician, is a good way of saying no to the World. Other people have their own lives, and you have yours, independent of anyone else. Just don’t protest, saying you don’t want to say no to this World! Come to me again in about five hundred years, and let me hear what kind of tune you’ll be singing then.”
It seemed the old man had blithely forgotten his own recent promise not to live another three hundred years. Or did he believe he could still receive visitors after his demise? But who in the World knows what he’ll be able to do after death?
“I won’t take up any more of your valuable time, Nuflin,” Sir Juffin said, standing up. “I remember how trying you find visitors, even such worthy visitors as ourselves.”
“Now don’t sell yourself short, Juffin. For all I know, you just want to go get something to eat . . . and rake my old bones over the coals! You think I’ll try to stop you? Or invite you to dine with me? Well, then, you don’t know me very well yet! Take yourselves off to your Glutton. And you, get a good night’s sleep, boy. You’ll be needing it.”
Sinning Magicians, what did he mean by that?
We left Jafax via an underground passage