The Stranger's Woes (88 page)

“This ivy will look great in combination with the stubble on your chin,” said Juffin. “You were made for each other. Well, how do you like it?”

“I like it very much. It looks much cozier than Rulx Castle.”

“Of course it does. For centuries, this building was occupied by very nice students along with their very nice tutors, and dozens of generations of royal ancestors, which you never had to begin with.”

“Magicians forbid! What’s in this building now?”

“This was once a library, but it was closed long ago. So there’s really nothing in it now.”

“And the books, what happened to them?”

“Well, maybe there are a few of them left. Some decrepit ancient folios and other old junk.”

“Remind me to ask that they not be taken away. I’ve always wanted to have my own collection of rare antique books.”

“And now you have them,” said Juffin. “Okay, you can make yourself comfortable here if you wish. I have to go back to the Ministry. Does Your Majesty remember that he must be at work tonight?”

“His Majesty does remember this unfortunate fact,” I said. “When I’m king, I’m going to send you my ministers and have them work for the good and prosperity of the Unified Kingdom. Oh, and tell Melifaro to take it easy, or I’ll forbid him to watch cartoons until the end of the year.”

“I think his personal favorites are your silly movies about policemen,” said Juffin. “He tries to guess how they will end. The sooner he can guess, the happier he seems to be. I think his latest record was a minute and a half after the movie began.”

“Well, I’ll be!” I said. “Looks like the boy is not a lost cause after all.”

Juffin was gone and I was left standing on the threshold of my future royal residence. Praise be the Magicians, this political intrigue now seemed silly and ridiculous to me. Which it was.

I really liked the Furry House. In time, I thought, I can turn it into a very nice, if capacious, abode.

I roamed the empty rooms of the former library, walked up to the third floor, and then entered a small watchtower. It smelled of dampness and dust, so I flung open the window. The fresh wind from the Xuron will only do a place like this good, I thought.

I looked out the window and shook my head in astonishment. It overlooked Echo, and the view was simply dazzling. The Furry House was one of the tallest buildings in the city.

I sat on the window ledge and looked down on the mosaic pavements of Echo and the silver ribbon of the cold Xuron. The beautiful magic city from my childhood dreams was real, and had become the geographical center of my new life. I had once lost it, and then found it again, only to realize for a second time how incredibly lucky I was. I felt I owed a debt of gratitude to the unfathomable powers that ruled over my destiny.

I decided that I should thank them. Right that very moment. It’s best not to postpone such things. I leaned out the window as far as I could without falling and screamed “Thank you” at the top of my lungs, addressing it to the heavens, where, according to popular belief, those hypothetical “forces” reside. Having shouted to my heart’s content, I sneezed a loud sneeze and then, relieved, laughed at this unexpected finale.

“That’s right, buddy,” I said to myself out loud. “Keep the pathos down.”

Also by Max Frei from Gollancz:

A Gollancz eBook

Original text copyright © Max Frei 2003
English translation copyright © Polly Gannon and Ast A. Moore 2011
All rights reserved

The right of Max Frei to be identified as the author of this work, and the right of Polly Gannon and Ast A. Moore to be identified as the translators of this work, has been asserted by them in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

First published in Great Britain in 2011 by
Gollancz
The Orion Publishing Group Ltd
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London WC2H 9EA
An Hachette UK Company

This eBook first published in 2011 by Gollancz.

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

ISBN 978 0 575 08981 5

All characters and events in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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