The Stranger - Max Frei [36]
“An ordinary faint,” he reported cheerfully. “The most common, everyday sort of fainting spell. He should be ashamed of himself! Let’s go, Max. Help me put this house in order. And you, Sir Shurf, deliver this priceless piece of meat into the arms of Kimpa. Let Kimpa bring him around, prepare oceans of kamra, and no less than a hundred sandwiches. Scarf down the food as soon as it’s served, and we’ll come and join you. Come on, Sir Max! Do you realize what has just happened? We did it! Sinning Magicians, we did it!”
Sir Shurf pulled on his thick protective gloves, grabbed up Melifaro, and carried him off under his arm like a rolled-up carpet.
And Juffin and I set out on a new journey through the house as it shrugged off the curse slowly, step by step. The spell of petrifaction that reigned over its dwellers merged into a deep sleep. It was far better this way. Sleep smoothes out the alien grimaces of another world. All would be forgotten; none of the survivors would be marked for the rest of their lives by the curse of the previous night. Tomorrow morning everything in this big house would be almost back to normal. The only thing that remained to do was to bury the unfortunate fellows who had been capering about the hall by the fountain, organize a spring cleaning, and call in a good medicine man to administer a calming herb to all members of the household for the next two dozen days.
It could have been worse. It could have ended very badly, indeed.
We went out into the garden.
“How nice it is out here!” I said with a sigh with relief.
Sir Juffin Hully took the liberty of patting me on the back, which is only allowed to the closest of friends in the Unified Kingdom.
“You turned out to be a wild wind, Sir Max! Much wilder than I expected. And I already had a high opinion of you, you may be quite sure!”
“A ‘wild wind’? Why ‘wind,’ Juffin?”
“That’s what we call people who are unpredictable. The kind about whom you never know what they might pull off next, how they’ll behave in a fight, what kind of effect magic will have on them—or Jubatic Juice! You never even know how much such a person will eat: one day he’ll empty the whole pot, and the next he’ll start preaching moderation . . . That was exactly what I needed: a wild wind, a fresh wind from another world. But you turned out to be a real hurricane, Sir Max! Lucky me!”
I was about to feel embarrassed, but then I thought—why should I? I really was pretty good; at least my part in the story of the mirrors. I’ll start indulging in modesty once the number of my exploits exceeds one hundred.
At home we found not only Lonli-Lokli waiting for us, decorously sipping his kamra, but also Melifaro, pale but quite lively, devouring the sandwiches from a tray resting on his lap. Chuff followed all his motions with great interest. Judging by the crumbs that had collected abundantly around the dog’s mouth, Sir Melifaro also had a soft spot in his heart for him.
“It’s too bad you saved me,” Melifaro said, grinning from ear to ear and bowing to Juffin. “Your pantry is running low with me around!”
“As if that matters! My pantry has long been in need of an airing. By the way, Max is the one you should thank. He was your main rescuer.”
“Thank you,” Melifaro purred, his mouth full of food. “So you, my fine friend, ate up the frog? And I thought it was our baleful sorcerers who took care of it.”
“Shurf and I, of course, worked with our hands,” Juffin explained modestly. “But only after Sir Max worked with his head. If it hadn’t been for his crazy idea about a second mirror, you would have been someone’s sandwich. Do you remember anything at all, you lucky devil?”
“Not a thing. Loki-Lonki described the scenario briefly—but his account lacked picturesque detail. I require a literary description!”
“You’ll get your picturesque detail. Chew up, first, or you’ll choke!” Sir Juffin said, shaking his head sternly.
“Sir Melifaro, my name is Lonli-Lokli. Please oblige me by learning how