“But of course!” said Juffin. “It’s great publicity, restoring the peace and whatnot. Do you really think he’d miss a good opportunity to go wild? Boboota jumps at the chance to wave his sword around. It’s his only talent, after all. Praise to the Magicians, have my dreams come true? Looks like one of the little monsters managed to bite him!”
“No, sir,” said Lonli-Lokli. “Captain Foofloss arrived along with General Box. Sir Foofloss, as you know, is a very disciplined soldier. If ordered to open fire with a Baboom slingshot, he does it.”
Juffin and Melifaro exchanged glances and guffawed.
“Captain Foofloss is the worst marksman under the sun!” Juffin explained through his laughter. “If he aims for the ground right under him, he shoots into the sky.”
Then he turned to Lonli-Lokli, “So, what happened?”
“Captain Foofloss’ shot ricocheted off the wall and hit General Box. The injury isn’t serious, but it’s liable to cause him a good deal of discomfort. I mean it will be difficult for him to sit down for a while.”
I joined in the mirth with my colleagues.
Finding myself in the driver’s seat of the amobiler, I decided that I, too, needed a bit of kamra. So we drove back even faster than we had on our way here. I’d swear the darned jalopy was about to take off flying. If anyone besides me got pleasure out of the ride, it was Melifaro. In any event, I had to promise that I would reveal the secret of speed to him. As if it was a secret!
All of a sudden I thought, I’m one to laugh at Captain Foofloss! I don’t even know how to shoot a Baboom! In fact, I don’t even know what it is.
Juffin intercepted my inner monologue, and rushed to comfort me. If you like, we could practice a bit together at the shooting gallery in our free time. But you must keep in mind that we are Secret Investigators, and thus find it beneath our dignity to be involved in such nonsense. And keep your eye on the road, for goodness’ sake!
It was indeed comforting.
An unusually heartwarming sight awaited us when we returned to the House by the Bridge. We found Melamori lounging upon the table in the Hall of Common Labor. She looked disheveled, but very happy. Her narrow feet, covered in scratches, were clamped around the muscular neck of a sturdy blond young man whose face had gone burgundy for lack of oxygen. He had had no choice but to settle into a position so uncomfortable that if I had been the Venerable Head of the Office of Quick Retribution (the Supreme Court, in other words), I would have thought such a punishment to be more than enough.
“He’s all yours, Sir Melifaro,” the sweet lady twittered. “I’ve been sitting with him here for an hour already.”
“It’s your own fault. You could have settled for a less ravishing pose. We would have appreciated you anyway,” Juffin grumbled. “Get that fright into Melifaro’s office. I can’t bear the sight of him. What hands, what talent! And to waste it all churning out those odious monsters. What’s up, genius? Were you too broke for a jug of kamra?”
Juba Chebobargo was not in the mood for conversation. He didn’t seem to understand what was going on. Lady Melamori hopped off the table gracefully. The poor fool didn’t even react to his sudden liberation from her embrace. She grabbed him roughly by the wheat-colored locks that sprouted from the top of his head, and dragged the mountain of meat into Melifaro’s office with no visible effort. Melifaro followed after them, shaking his head in amazement.
As soon as I sat down at the table, I began to whine. With the exhausted manner of a hero of all world wars in succession, I demanded that we put in our order at the Glutton without waiting for the rest of our colleagues to return. To be honest, I suspect that events would have shaped up that way even without my insistence. Juffin himself was in a hurry to get his kamra.
“I think we should add a few bottles of good wine to our order. I feel a tad tired today,” said Lonli-Lokli. “I don’t think anyone would object.”
Indeed, no one had any objections. The devil take it, we had something to celebrate! Just a few hours ago we had unmasked and disarmed a Phetan, one of the most formidable forces of evil in this World. Not to mention our joint munchkin-extermination mission, and our happy introduction to Juba Chebobargo, the person with the magical hands.
When the trays arrived from the Glutton, Lonli-Lokli produced the familiar cup with the hole in the bottom from under the folds of his looxi. But he slyly managed to surprise me a second time. Uncorking a bottle of Shining, Sir Shurf took his time pouring its entire contents into his cup. Of course, the size of the cup would not seem to accommodate such greed. It turned out, however, that nothing would spill over the brim of the cup, either. The quivering aromatic column of greenish-yellow wine froze above the vessel. Lonli-Lokli sipped from the top of this liquid iceberg.
I felt the urge to cross all my fingers, just to be on the safe side; but then thought better of it, as this could be interpreted as magic of some forbidden degree.
“Do you feel better, Shurf?” asked Juffin.
“I certainly do. Thank you, sir,” said Lonli-Lokli. And, indeed, not a trace of weariness remained on his face.
There was still much that remained unclear to me, so I requested an explanation.
“So it was Juba Chebobargo who made those dolls come alive?”
“Almost. As I understand it, Juba’s skills were so great that he made the dolls using only permitted magic—and his amazing hands, of course! It wasn’t that the dolls were really alive; but they were very lifelike, and they could perform certain simple tasks. Collecting all the money and valuables they could carry, for example. And he taught them to return to their master. It was an excellent plan, I’ll grant him that. If Melifaro hadn’t taken on the case, I don’t think anyone would have caught on for a few more years; and by then he would have made a fortune. Although today’s events probably would have put an end to his scheme, anyway.”
“So what happened? What made the dolls go mad like that? Nothing like that has ever happened before, has it?”
“It certainly hasn’t! What do you think—who was the kid that jumped out of your neighbors’ house and gave the poor lady that overly passionate kiss?”
“One of Juba Chebobargo’s dolls!” It finally dawned on me. “Lady Feni bought it, along with the rest of the antique junk that she collected. And the doll went crazy in that lovely little house, just like the protective amulet that attacked me. I can’t say I blame them. I’d probably go nuts in that place, too. But what happened to all the other dolls? Was it some kind of epidemic?”
“You can be very perspicacious when you wish to be, Max. That is exactly what it was, an epidemic. The crazed object returned home, and thus made a huge contribution to science. Now it is clear beyond the shadow of a doubt that the properties of magical objects not only change in the presence of a Phetan, but can also share their newly acquired qualities with other magical objects. Today was quite a fruitful day in the area of scientific discovery. And in the area of bodily injury, for that matter.”
“And conflicts with one’s neighbors,” I grumbled.
“I told you not to move there from the very start, if you would care to recall,” said Juffin, and kindly poured me some more kamra. “And I told you from the very start that by moving there I was acting in the line of duty. How many souls would he have destroyed if he hadn’t come across me?”
“Inhabitants of the Borderlands have a highly developed faculty of intuition; I’m convinced of this now more than ever,” said Lonli-Lokli, summing things up.
“And a highly developed lucky streak,” said Juffin. He turned to me and said, “You have no idea how lucky you were to receive that royal gift when you did. And I have one more scientific discovery that I can share with you. I hope it’s the last one today. I was able to discover the magical properties of the Children of the Crimson Pearl.”