The Stranger's Woes (48 page)

“Never knew you had such a talent for consuming spirits,” I said.

“Believe it or not, I didn’t know, either,” said Melifaro. “But this Ossian Ash is something special.” And he began helping himself to the second jug, never ceasing to grumble. “A hole in the heavens above Arvarox! What crazy demiurge created that cursed continent? I’m going to quit the Royal Service and ask Anchifa to take me away on his ship. Even as an ordinary sailor. If he’s not lying, his guys teach those goggle-eyed beauty boys a lesson from time to time. I’d love to give them a hand.”

“Look, sooner or later he’s going to go back,” I said.

“Yeah,
sooner or later
,” said Melifaro, knocking his glass to the floor. It shattered into a thousand tiny fragments with a sad tinkling sound.

“You’re good at breaking glasses,” said Tekki, laughing. “I’ve never seen a glass break into so many pieces.

“Want me to teach you?” Melifaro offered. He grabbed my glass, still full, and put it in front of him.

I was watching my friend in amazement. Even now, life was full of surprises.

“Aren’t you tired yet?” I asked. “I think it’s time for you to go to bed.”

“I am tired,” said Melifaro bitterly. “This kind of thing happens to me sometimes: I want to have fun, and I fall asleep instead. I’m so ashamed of myself.”

“Oh, no,” I said. “You’ve got a long way to go before you have anything to be ashamed of. Come on, I’ll take you to my place. Unless the company of Rulen Bagdasys is still so precious to you.”

“No no no! Take me home please,” said Melifaro stubbornly. “I live there. You live at your place. Isn’t that obvious? And Rulen Bagdasys, for all I care, can go to the Quarter of Trysts and get himself a few more shiners. They make him look a whole lot better, don’t they?”

“Fine. Your place it is, then,” I said.

If Melifaro wanted to go back to his place to sleep, who was I to prevent him? I looked at Tekki. She was diligently filling her pipe. It seemed she was looking a little less happy than a tavern keeper normally would when someone removes a customer who had taken a drop too many.

“Are you going to call it a day?” I said.

“I don’t know. Why?”

“Well, I really liked your kamra, and . . . In other words, I was going to put this hero to bed and then come back, if it’s okay with you.”

“Do you really want to come back?” she said, surprised.

“I do. What’s so strange about that?”

“Everything,” she said with a helpless smile. “Come back, Sir Max. I’ll even send out for dinner.”

“Brilliant!” I said. “To sit in one tavern and send out for dinner to another one. This is a first for me.”

This time I had every reason to hurry. I outdid myself driving to the Street of Gloomy Clouds and arrived in a matter of minutes.

Melifaro was sleeping on the back seat of my amobiler. I tried shaking his shoulder, but to no avail. He was sound asleep, though he still tried to kick me a few times. I sighed—this wasn’t going to work without resorting to magic. There was no way I was going to carry this guy on my back. Moving heavy objects had never been my favorite pastime. So without further ado, I did one of my all-time best tricks. The next thing I knew, a tiny Melifaro fit snugly between my thumb and my index finger.

“A beautiful girl is waiting for me, and I’m stuck here with you,” I said to my left fist.

Naturally, if he had been conscious, Melifaro would have just told me where to stuff it.

When I walked into Melifaro’s living room, I was in for another surprise. Three men besides Rulen Bagdasys were sitting there. Judging by their huge fur hats, they were also from Isamon. The table deserves special mention. It was the most disgusting mess I had ever been privileged to see—a late, late show featuring a special guest: garbage. Normally, achieving such spectacular results would require a lot of food, drink, smokes, lonely tipsy men, and a whole week. These gentlemen had managed in just two days.

“Enjoying ourselves?” I asked sternly.

The men looked at me indifferently. They weren’t impressed by the Mantle of Death. But of course, I thought, I’m not wearing one of their fur hats.

“Have you sucked out your own brains?” Rulen Bagdasys hissed at his buddies. “This mister is from some aristocratic family. He’s very close to the Royal Court!”

“I suggest that you try to clean up this sinning mess and get out of here,” I said. I was trying to be scary, but it wasn’t quite working. “The master of the house is asleep, but he could wake up any minute now. He’s in a very foul mood, and he’s the kind of fellow who is used to choosing his own guests, so—”

“Don’t you understand who these people are?” Now Rulen Bagdasys was hissing at me. “This is Mr. Ciceric, Mr. Maklasufis, and Mr. Mikusiris! Don’t you know them? Where did you leave your brains! These are titans! You’re out of your mind!”

“I don’t have time to deal with you now,” I grumbled on my way to the stairs. “Mark my words, when Sir Melifaro wakes up, there’s going to be trouble. Big trouble. I don’t even think your fur hats will come out of it alive.”

Exhausted from dealing with so many Isamonians, I went upstairs to Melifaro’s bedroom. Bending over the bed, I gave my hand a vigorous shake. Melifaro, suddenly his regular size again, tumbled onto the sheets.

“Don’t throw me on the floor,” he said angrily without waking up.

“My, my, how fragile we are!” I said. “Okay, have a good night, hero.”

I don’t think Melifaro heard me. He had already curled up and was snoring peacefully. I covered him with a fluffy blanket, shook my head, and left the bedroom.

The Isamonians were still in the living room. They looked at me with alarm and insolence at the same time. I was going to continue my lecture on the subject of cleaning up but changed my mind. Melifaro wasn’t a kid. He’ll deal with them when he wakes up, I thought. There were much more pleasant affairs waiting for me tonight.

I was surprised at myself as I sped up in my amobiler. Holy cow! Did that unbelievable dark-eyed Tekki really exist? Her short silver hair—what an extraordinary color! Her sharp little beak-like nose and those helpless, tender lips—were they for real? Where had she picked up my favorite offhand manner of expression? I could have sworn I had made her up, that ideal woman of my idiosyncratic tastes. I had always been a guy with a wild and vivid imagination.

Life was getting curiouser and curiouser. Lady Melamori was swaying her hips in front of the white-haired result of a bunch of buriwoks practicing group mediation, and I was rushing off for a date with my own hallucination. We had all gone mad. Melifaro was the only sane person in the bunch: he fought, he yearned, he drank, and he slept like an ordinary guy.

But Tekki wasn’t a hallucination. She was a very real woman, sitting over a tray with dinner from the
Fat Turkey
, fiddling with her pipe nervously, waiting for me.

Waiting.

For me.

Incredible.

“Aren’t you glad I’m back?” I said insolently.

“Of course I am. Someone has to eat all this. And I’m still not hungry. I can’t eat when I’m nervous, and tonight was quite a night.”

She spoke so nonchalantly, as if we’d known each other for at least a couple of hundred years. Her gaze was different, though: attentive, alert, and sad.

I really wanted to take her hand in mine, for starters. Instead, I stared at my plate. I’ll be darned. Just when I thought I’d gotten rid of my timidity, life had to prove me wrong.

“Why did you come back?” said Tekki. “Do you really like it here?”

“You bet I do,” I said. “There’s no better place than this. Too bad the police took away the dead bodies: they really livened up the atmosphere. But even without them the place is really nice.”

Tekki managed a crooked smile and touched her hair with a trembling hand. She hung her head. I was sure that she found my company very much to her liking, yet something was making her uneasy. I cast around desperately for a topic of conversation.

“Tell me about your family,” I said. “You weren’t joking when you said your brothers had all died and become ghosts, were you?”

“No, I wasn’t joking. They did die. Or, rather, they perished. That’s the word you’re supposed to use when referring to violent deaths. They still exist, but their bodies are very different from those of the living. And their abilities, too. As I said, I still see my brothers sometimes. They live at—or, rather, they inhabit—our family castle. I’d love to move in there myself, but I find it impossible to be among them for too long. The living must live with their kind, don’t you think? I like my brothers’ current lives. They are as light and carefree as you and I could ever dream to be. They roam through different Worlds, stroll through the streets of Echo like you and me, and that’s just a small part of what they do to entertain themselves. The other parts are still beyond my comprehension.”

Tekki’s description of life after death was so impassioned and riveting that I felt I wanted to become a ghost myself. It took quite a bit of effort on my part to nip that fantasy in the bud. Once, Sir Mackie Ainti, the old sheriff of Kettari and the most amazing of all the people I knew, told me that all of my wishes came true—sooner or later, somehow or other. I had had enough time to think about his words to conclude that my life was proof of his mind-boggling theory.

For starters, I reminded myself that I was quite capable of traveling between Worlds even while alive. Then I remembered that I wasn’t especially fond of that ability. Not that I particularly disliked it—maybe I just hadn’t gotten used to it yet.

While I was contemplating all this, Tekki stood up and went behind the bar. She returned with two glasses.

I didn’t feel like drinking, but what I did feel like was seducing this amazing woman. At the very least, I was going to try. And it’s not a good idea to begin by rejecting the drink she’s just brought you.

“To you, Sir Max,” she said, raising her glass.

“If you say so,” I said, laughing. Then I added in the most gallant manner I could muster, “To you, Lady Tekki.”

“But you must drink this all up,” she said. “It tastes great, and it’s not too strong, I promise.”

I submitted and took a sip of the aromatic drink. It smelled of exotic blossoms and fragrant wild herbs. Tekki was right: the drink didn’t taste strong, but it sent my pulse racing and took my breath away. No wonder, though—for the most beautiful woman in the Universe was sitting beside me, and I was foolish enough not to kneel before her.