Sir Juffin Hully himself was quite happy when he saw us, alive and triumphant, and all in one piece.
“I doubt that the problem of life after death is still relevant for the Grand Magician Maxlilgl Annox,” I quipped from the doorway. “If we had killed him when he was alive, anything could have happened. But we killed him after he had already died. Sinning Magicans, what am I saying! Stop me!”
“In any case, I’m sure his research is finished once and for all,” Juffin assured me.
“One hopes so. I didn’t much like your Grand Magician. By the way, I wanted to deliver him to you alive—well, as alive as it was possible to consider him to be. But it just didn’t work out.”
“Magicians be with you, my boy! You might not have come back alive yourselves!”
“That’s what I assumed,” Lonli-Lokli observed. “But an order is an order.”
Juffin shook his head reproachfully. I couldn’t figure out which of us he was more dissatisfied with.
“I was an idiot. I’ll mend my ways,” I repented. I collapsed in a chair, and right away realized I was falling asleep. Just as my eyes were closing, I muttered, “Don’t forget to tell him about the water, Shurf. That was something else!”
I was still feeling the beneficial effects of Elixir of Kaxar, and so I awoke only an hour later. I felt as light as a feather, and surprisingly chipper. My colleagues were drinking kamra that they had ordered in the Glutton, and were conversing quietly.
“Aha, he’s up and about,” said Juffin.
He stared at me with suspicious enthusiasm, as though I were a holiday pudding that may just have reached the proper consistency. It wouldn’t have surprised me if his mouth were watering.
It didn’t. But he did launch into a medical examination, though this didn’t really resemble an ordinary medical procedure.
Juffin asked me to stand by the wall, and for some time I felt his motionless, light eyes drilling into me—not a very pleasant sensation, I’ll have you know. For the first time since I had made his acquaintance I felt uncomfortable under his gaze. Then he told me to turn my face to the wall, which I did with relief. For a time, the boss studied my backside and its environs. Not satisfied with a visual examination, he began patting me on the back. This massage, in contrast to the “I spy” game, was enjoyable. Then his relentless hands—the sizzling hot right one and the ice-cold left one—were on my head, and I felt wretched. It was as if I had died and nothing was left of me. Nothing at all. And then I began shouting—not from pain, but to prove to the whole world that it wasn’t true. I shout, therefore I am. A stupid phrase, but it worked.
“Easy, Max,” Juffin said, his voice full of sympathy and concern, helping me into the nearest armchair. “Unpleasant, I know; but it’s over now.”
Almost immediately I felt better physically, but I couldn’t vouch for my emotional equilibrium.
“What was that all about?”
“Nothing, really. The ordinary dialog between the body of a healer and the body of a patient. Not everyone likes it. You, for example, didn’t. But you have to grow accustomed to these things, and you haven’t yet. Are you ready for some news?”
“Depends,” I answered cautiously. “Is it good? Bad? Or what?”
“Or what. Depends on your sense of humor.”
“Well, that’s never been too much of a problem for me.”
“We’ll put it to the test now. You see, Max, your . . . how can I put it most accurately . . . your physiology has undergone a change.”
“What kind? Have I become a woman? Or do I just never have to go to the bathroom again? What do you mean, Juffin?”
“No, everything is fine below the belt,” Juffin said with a chuckle. “As for the bathroom and other little joys of life—there’s no need to worry.”
“Well, that’s something.”
“Nothing really terrible has happened. But you do have to know, all the same. You’ve become poisonous.”
“Poisonous? Me?” Juffin’s revelation sounded simply absurd. “Do you mean to tell me that if someone eats me he’ll die? Alert the local cannibals, on the double! They may become victims of their own appetites,” I laughed like it was the last laugh of my life.
“No, eating you is no problem. Neither is touching. Someone could even use your silverware or a towel after you with no dire consequences,” said Juffin. “There’s just one danger. If you become angry or scared, your saliva will become poisonous. The most deadly kind of poison, I might add. It kills instantaneously if it so much as touches the skin—of a person, at least. And you will spit this venom at your offender come what may. Let me assure you that self-discipline and training is of no use here. No amount of willpower will change the situation. It’s not a matter of choice. You’ll spit even if you decide not to. The only thing you can do if you wish to avoid the instantaneous destruction of your offender is to spit off to the side somewhere. So look to your character, boy. Don’t let trifles annoy you, or you’ll spit the whole of Echo into oblivion.”
“It’s not all that bad,” I observed uncertainly. “I’m not malicious. If something like this happened to Boboota, humanity really would be in grave danger. Of course, it would be nice to try, at least once. If you don’t watch out, I’ll leave to become Sir Shurf’s assistant.”
“Well, that wouldn’t hurt,” Lonli-Lokli remarked, maintaining his placid, unruffled demeanor. “You know yourself, Max, that I sometimes have more work than I can handle.”
“And what about my personal life, Juffin?” I sighed. “No girl will want to kiss such a monster! Maybe we should keep the news a secret?”
“Explain to the girls that kissing you is completely harmless. As long as you’re not angry, at least,” Juffin shrugged. “As for keeping it secret—I wasn’t intending to call a press conference about it, but you know that—”
“. . . that Echo is full of two-bit clairvoyants,” I finished his thought.
“Precisely.”
“But why did this happen to me, anyway?”
“It’s your fate, boy. When you’re mixed up in magic at high levels, it affects you differently from how it would affect . . . let’s just say ‘normal people.’” Juffin then glanced over at Lonli-Lokli meaningfully.
Sir Shurf is as trustworthy and reliable as a cliff inside a safe inside a Swiss bank, but it was perhaps not worth announcing to him that I was a refugee from another World. Besides, everything was already as clear as day to me.
“You never know beforehand what or how something will affect you,” Juffin added. “Remember what happened when we were at my neighbor’s house?”
“But I was only very briefly a vampire,” I objected plaintively. “After a few hours everything was back to normal.”
“Right. Because my spell was the kind that is only short-term. But the ghost wanted to kill you. That’s why the spell he put on you worked like a charm, so to speak—a very permanent one. What can be more permanent than death?”
“Well, you’ve consoled me. Thanks a million!”
“Deal with it, Max. Don’t think this incident is the last one in your life. Everything is for the best! At Makluk’s house you became a bit wiser. Now you have a useful weapon at your disposal. Who knows what’s next?”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
For a few seconds I sincerely tried to feel sorry for myself. Then I shook my head and burst out laughing.
“Maybe I just need to see a wiseman. I’ll come to him and say, ‘Doctor, I have poisonous saliva. What should I do?’ And he’ll say, ‘No problem. A strict diet, a walk before bedtime, and an aspirin for the night. In five hundred years, you’ll be right as rain!’”
“Aspirin? What’s that?” Lonli-Lokli asked.
“Oh, it truly is a magic potion. It’s made from horse dung, and it helps everything!”