“What are you talking about, Max? Who are you calling your ‘close friends’? Give me some background.”
“Well, last night I overindulged in Elixir of Kaxar and patted Sir Shurf on the back. He seemed perfectly happy with this, so everything’s fine. There must be some friendship traditions I have to uphold so as not to offend him, though. Am I guessing right?”
“No, I don’t recall anything of that nature,” Juffin said, furrowing his brow. “I don’t think anyone is required to do anything in particular. You don’t have to address him as ‘sir’ anymore, although you seem to have stopped doing that already anyway. Sinning Magicians! What am I trying to explain? Friendship is friendship! By the way, if you recall, I once did the same to you.”
“Yes, but—”
I grew confused and fell silent. It’s awkward to admit to a person that you consider him to be the Great Exception to all possible rules. It’s too close to crude flattery.
But Juffin understood already anyway.
“You mean to say that I’m just one of the guys, but Lonli-Lokli is a true gentleman? Yes, that’s one way of looking at it, but you’re in luck, Max! There are no particular rituals for such a situation. Well, except for the fact that now when you visit Shurf, you have the right to take a bath at his house and spend the night. And he has the same right—though I question whether he would take advantage of it. All right, Sir Max, a few Days of Freedom from Care are no less than you deserve, so I won’t detain you any longer.”
“That sounds like you’re showing me the door,” I said with a smile. “I even feel a bit hurt. Not show up on duty for two days? I’ll die of boredom!”
“I’m glad you like your job. Now you’ve got to get some rest, though. And no adventures! I’m saying that to you as a healer. Understand?”
In the corridor of the Ministry I ran into General Boboota Box. He bared his teeth in the semblance of a smile, his face crimson. The poor chap seemed to be on the verge of fainting. When he saw my Mantle of Death, the illustrious General Boboota understood that he had acquired a very dangerous enemy. I could only sympathize.
Joking aside, passing by the Sated Skeleton I heard two middle-aged ladies in heated argument. If I’m not mistaken, they were playing Krak, the local version of poker. And, inevitably, they were both cheating. They made so much noise that they couldn’t hear the melodious tinkle of the bells on my boots. “May Sir Max spit on you!” one of them screamed at the other.
Unbelievable! I plunked myself down on the mosaic sidewalk and let my head fall into my hands. I sat like that for ten minutes or more. I kept repeating, like a mantra, Juffin’s advice: “Get used to it, and try to enjoy it.”
Then I got up and walked home. What else could I do?
Chapter 4 The Stranger
AS SOON AS SOMEONE DECIDES THAT HE HAS MADE HIS PEACE WITH himself and the world around him, his best friends, as though on cue, will start doing everything in their power to relieve him of the illusion. This has been tested on a live human being. On me, to be exact.
I returned to the House by the Bridge after several days of blissful lethargy, clouded only by the installment of a fourth bathing pool in my house. I walked down the corridor, wrapped in my splendid Mantle of Death, anticipating a pleasant meeting with colleagues. And, to tell the truth, they didn’t let me down.
At the door leading into our side of the building, Melifaro rushed up to me. The fact that in his haste the guy stomped on my foot and elbowed me in the side was a trifle. He then tried to turn this petty incident into a kind of vaudeville act.
Melifaro bounded away from me like a tennis ball. His face froze in an expression of utter horror. He collapsed onto all fours and began beating his head against the threshold. To top it off, he let out a scream so shrill it made my ears ring.
“Spare me, O Sir Max the Terrible, who spews death from out of his fire-breathing maw! Do not snuff out my existence with your burning spittle, which flows abundantly over the heads of your sworn enemies! I am unworthy of such a magnificent demise.”
Terrified policemen came running up when they heard Melifaro’s shrieks. It appeared they sincerely thought that someone was being murdered. They stared at my grimacing colleague. At me they only glanced surreptitiously, as though trying to size up the situation—was he going to spit or not? From our side of the Ministry, only Lonli-Lokli poked his stony physiognomy out of the doorway. Taking it all in at a glance, Sir Shurf sighed and slammed the door shut. In the meantime, the curious policemen still lingered.
Enjoying the all-round attention, Melifaro jumped up suddenly and sidled up close to me.
“Am I forgiven?” he asked innocently. “Or did I overdo it?”
“You overdid it.” I tried to stay calm, since I really was becoming a bit overwrought. “In such cases, it’s considered only proper to repent for no less than an hour. Moreover, it should be done in the most public place in town. Get thee hence to the Victory of Gurig VII Square, my poor friend, and fulfill your duty. Then you will be absolved of all guilt.”
At that, I retreated, slamming the door so hard the handle was left hanging limply by one screw. After that I really did start to calm down.
What’s wrong, Max? Melifaro sent me a call posthaste. Are you actually offended? I just wanted to amuse you.
Content yourself with the thought that you amused a whole crowd of cops and your own sweet self, I replied.
Where did your sense of humor go, Max? Well, never mind. If you’re still in a huff, I’ll stand you a drink. Come along to the Glutton and I’ll treat you to something stronger than your own nerves. Over and out.
He really was sucking up, tossing out my favorite expression. This only made me angrier.
“What if I actually do kill him, Shurf?” I asked.
Lonli-Lokli proceeded to regale me with legal advice, as thougt I really did intend to get even with my friend.
“Lifetime imprisonment in Xolomi, since you are both in government service. That will be an aggravating factor. Or there may be no consequences whatsoever, if you can prove that he committed a particularly heinous crime. All in all, such a situation is very undesirable. You ought not take offense at Melifaro. You know him, Max. It’s unfortunate that he was spoiled by his mother and older brothers, since his father, Manga Melifaro, was always busy—”
“Gadding about the World writing his famous Encyclopedia, I know. World travelers shouldn’t start families. Their passion for adventure gets passed down to their offspring. Well, never mind. I’ll just go to the Glutton and give him a shiner. He’s waiting for me, after all. Did you see the expressions on those terrified policemen, Shurf?”
“Naturally.”
“Make sure that none of them gets into the Silver Leaflet for the next thousand years. There wasn’t an intelligent face among them. And they really believed that I might kill him, the idiots. It’s obvious they learned their stuff from General Boboota.”
After venting my spleen on innocent people I felt a deep sense of satisfaction and went to make peace with Melifaro in the Glutton. There was plenty of time. Already bored at home, I had shown up for work much earlier than necessary.
Melifaro did everything he could to improve my mood—which he had done so much to spoil. When the time came to go on my night shift, I was no longer a menace to society.
Sir Juffin Hully sat in his armchair, his nose between the pages of a book. This idyll attested to the peace and tranquility that had already returned to Echo.