The Stranger - Max Frei [220]
“I’m leaving, then. Malevolent intrigues just sound too tempting.”
“You’re not even going to finish your meal? You’ll starve to death while you’re on duty, and I’ll be dancing a jig on a little heap of ashes that remains of you.”
“I’m not going to finish the meal, nor am I paying for it,” I replied, wrapping myself in my warm Mantle of Death. “I’m so fearsome that it doesn’t matter what I do.”
With that, I strode boldly to the door. Our repartee could go on forever, and I was spurred on by a tantalizing mixture of curiosity and hope.
When I arrived Sir Juffin Hully was just sniffing the contents of a jug of kamra. Then he nodded in satisfaction and filled his mug.
“For the sake of experiment I compromised my principles. This kamra is not from the Glutton, Max. I ordered it from the Fatman at the Bend. I thought I’d just see how the little wife of our Lookfi earns her bread and butter. It’s not bad, not bad at all. Have you ever been there?”
I shook my head.
“That’s very bad of you. I’d go so far as to say it’s unpatriotic. Since the proprietress of the Fatman is the wife of our colleague, we have an obligation. But do sit down, Max. You could have finished your meal back there. That’s very unlike you, choosing work over food.”
“You aren’t the only one who’s surprised,” I said. “You seem to know everything about me that there is to know, Juffin, even what I’ve left behind on my plate. It boggles the mind.”
“Not everything. Just the most important things. I need to have a serious talk with you, Max. Very serious, indeed. I want to burden you with a problem.”
“Finally!” I said ecstatically, and reached into my pocket for the little parcel with cigarette butts that I still managed to salvage from the Chink between Worlds. In other words, from under my own pillow.
The teaching method of Sir Maba Kalox breaks down like this: many little treats, and no whip. All carrots, no stick. It works like a charm, every time. Tormented by the disgusting taste of the local tobacco, I spent days filching cigarettes from the inaccessible reaches of my own homeland, not bothering to struggle to understand how I was able to pull it off.
“I’ve been saving this problem for you from the start,” Juffin began. “Only it seemed to me that we’d need to wait several years, to give you time to get used to our World. But it turns out that you’re already used to it. There’s nothing to wait for.”
“I was just thinking about that myself,” I said, nodding. “It just occurred to me that Melifaro and I have known each other only half a year. And you brought him home only a few dozen days after I—”
“You can say that again,” Juffin said. “I myself can hardly believe the speed of your progress, even though I knew what a clever fellow I was dealing with. I should have been prepared. In any case, I’m certain you’ll manage with this, and now is just the right time. A short journey to the end of the world—that’s just what you need, wouldn’t you say?”
“Juffin, don’t hedge! You’ve whetted my curiosity to such a degree already that my head is spinning.”
“I’m not hedging. I’m just waiting for you to make yourself comfortable, light up a smoking stick, and perk up your ears. It’s a long story, Max, and very convoluted.”
“A hole in the heavens above you, sir! I adore long, convoluted stories.”
And Juffin began.
“There’s something going on in my home city of Kettari, Max.”
I gaped at him. I had anticipated any beginning to the story except this one, that’s for sure! Juffin smiled an understanding smile.
“Your knowledge of the geography of the Unified Kingdom is still rather superficial.”
“Please don’t spare my self-confidence, sir. I never take it with me when I leave home. I know nothing about your geography. It’s a fact.”
Juffin nodded and began unfolding a map. I stared at it, enchanted. Local cartography is its own branch of art. My chief tapped the neatly clipped nail of his narrow finger on a small, bright dot nestled in the west among finely delineated mountain peaks.
“That’s Kettari, Max. And Echo is here.