The Stranger - Max Frei [218]
“For certain things you should just say thank you immediately, so that you won’t be kicking yourself later, as Grand Magician Nuflin said.” I had just realized the magnitude of what my boss had done for me. “Juffin, you’re saving me! Do you want me to kiss the hem of your looxi? I see you don’t . . . But when did you have time to arrange all of this?”
“What do you think Silent Speech is for? And the junior officials of the Ministry of Perfect Public Order? Better to eat now than spoil your appetite worrying about trifles. One of the messengers can move your menagerie and other household effects. How about good old Urf? He’s already used to helping you with your household affairs.”
“You’re so wise, and I’m a dolt. You know, I’ll probably keep the house on the Street of Old Coins. I have a pillow fastened somewhere there, a plug in the Chink between Worlds.”
Juffin began to laugh. That’s not the right word for it, though. He let out a guffaw that came from the bottom of his soul, infectious and long. I stared at him blankly. Whence this merriment?
“What a bunch of baloney, Max! Maba was just joking with you. He loves practical jokes. You didn’t have to fasten that pillow to anything. You can take it with you wherever you wish, and continue your activities with the same amount of success. The secret isn’t under the pillow. It’s not even inside the pillow . . . Oh, Max, you’re so funny, you really are!”
“So he was pulling my leg?” I felt a bit embarrassed. Still, I somewhat liked Sir Maba’s joke.
“It’s all right, Juffin. Let there be one more deserted house on the Street of Old Coins. Who knows, maybe I’ll want to return there someday.”
“Time will tell. Now then, release your captive.”
Agon the Merchant, completely discombobulated by his metamorphosis, immediately sent a call to all his comrades in misfortune, after which he went into the detention cell.
I rested my head on the table, exhausted. After all, we were all comrades in misfortune: the fashionable dandies in their gleaming belts, the chefs of the capital sporting the Earring of Oxalla, Melamori and I, and other visitors to the Quarter of Trysts, and the countless dwellers of all Worlds, bound hand and foot by spells, obligations, and destiny.
“It’s not so bad, dear,” Lady Sotofa’s voice jerked me out of my dark whirlpool of homegrown philosophy into the bright world, where fresh kamra and a bracing nightshift awaited me.
I smiled. “As soon as I meet a good person, I find out that her favorite hobby is reading my mind.”
“Why would I need to do that, Max?” The old lady sniffed. “It’s just that you looked wise and mournful, like all boys when they’re thinking about their silly problems. Well, where are your poor devils hiding?”
“You arrived nearly an hour before you promised,” Juffin exclaimed. “So don’t be too hard on us. You’ll have to wait.”
“Oh, what luxury! I can’t remember the last time I had a whole hour to do nothing.”
“Don’t count on having a whole hour. They could start arriving any minute now. What did I tell you? Here comes the first one.”
The first one, by the way, was the same fellow that Kofa and I noticed in the Irrashi Inn at the very beginning of this story. Such coincidences do happen.
Lady Sotofa’s hands worked wonders. Her lips weren’t still for a second. She managed to sympathize with every patient, and to joke with us at their expense simultaneously. The recent hostages of the belts, now free, informed her where they could be found in the upcoming dozen days. Kurush grumbled at the large amount of tedious work, but managed to process all the information. With a memory like his, he couldn’t forget anything if he tried.
“They haven’t run afoul of the law, have they?” I wanted to know.
“No, of course not,” Juffin assured me. “How can you condemn someone who had no choice? The only candidate for unpleasant repercussions is your friend Agon, since he took some of the illegal actions