The Stranger - Max Frei [285]
A shadow of doubt flickered in Lonli-Lokli’s eyes, but he glanced again at the ghostly landscape that stretched out below us, then nodded and shook his left hand. Kiba Attsax plunged downward. He was-n’t the least surprised. Of course, he knew what I was capable of—the dead know everything. Somehow, I felt that Sir Kiba was not at all opposed to such a strange end to his long, tiring existence that confounded common sense. He disappeared; just disappeared, without reaching the earth. Which, to be honest, wasn’t underneath us, either.
I burst out laughing again, raised my eyes to the sky, and asked, gasping for breath in my merriment, “Did you like it, Maba? Surely you did!”
I liked it, I liked it! Are you happy now? The muffled Silent Speech of Sir Maba Kalox reached me so suddenly I shivered. Only stop this foolish habit of getting in touch with me aloud in public! Can’t you at least try?
I’ll try, I said, shamefaced, this time without opening my mouth.
“Excellent!” said Lonli-Lokli, looking glad and youthful.
Now, however, there was nothing unnatural in his good cheer. He was like the fellow who had walked with me here not long before, when the city in the mountains was still just one of my favorite dreams. Shurf didn’t seem to have paid any attention to my yelps into the emptiness.
“Were you sure?” he asked.
“Yes. Don’t ask me why. I have no idea! But I was absolutely sure that this was how it would be. Look, Shurf, we’re almost there. Yes, take your mitten. I think you can make friends with it again. I shook my left hand and gave Lonli-Lokli back his shining white sharp-nailed glove, which, Magicians be praised, now had only one owner.
The city was glad to see us. There was no doubt about it. The nearly empty streets, occasional friendly passersby, and a warm breeze carried the weak aromas of my favorite memories through the outdoor cafés. There was nothing special about it; but all the same, to me there was no better place in a single other World. Though I would never have considered staying here. I knew it was impossible.
We decided to moor at one of the outdoor cafes. Shurf didn’t like coffee, but he did like the frothy clouds of cream sailing on top of it. So we split our portions two ways, which was tasty, and rather funny. I remember that Lonli-Lokli punctured his spoon—he just looked through it at the sun, and the hole appeared of its own accord. He winked at me, and with this handy implement he scooped up the cloud of whipped cream floating on top of the cup. The tall, fantastically slender girl who was busying herself with our orders gave me a smacking kiss on the cheek. That was unexpected, but altogether pleasant. I just shook my head in wonder. We didn’t say anything to each other, as I recall. I think we just smiled every now and then; but I’m not at all sure.
After long hours of walking from one end of the city to the other, we finally came across the shady English park. My Lady Marilyn was roaming around there somewhere, if the wise Sir Mackie Ainti was to be believed. And who else was there to believe?
“Oh,” I sighed. “I forgot again! I wanted to find out the name of this city. I should have asked someone.”
“Nonsense, Max,” Lonli-Lokli said dismissively. “The important thing is that it exists, your city. What difference does the name make?”
“Come to think of it, none at all; but I’d still like to know, but, there’s no sense wondering about it now.”
And then we returned to Kettari, and I went to sleep. I think I was asleep even before I got home.
In the morning, everything was back to normal—maybe it was all too normal, but I didn’t object. My legs were planted firmly on the ground, and I wasn’t performing any supernatural wonders, except for fishing out a can of Coke from under the rocker. That was hardly a wonder!
It was finally possible to be bored again at breakfast. Lonli-Lokli seemed to be the same reserved and unflappable fellow I was used to,