“Greetings, traitor,” he mumbled. “So, you’re sitting in the Glutton with Melifaro instead of relieving an old man on duty.”
“First of all, I came a half hour early. Second, Melifaro was atoning for his sins.”
“I know all that. And third?”
“And third, I’m ready to do it all again in your company.”
“What, exactly?”
“Go to the Glutton.”
“You won’t burst at the seams, Sir Max?”
“No way.”
“I’m too lazy to go anywhere. Let’s have them bring something over here. Sit down. I’m going to gossip.”
“For you, Sir, I’m prepared even for that.”
“Ha! He’s prepared. You’re the main character of this story. Do you know what Lady Melamori has been up to? I just found out today. When did you last see her?”
“Two days ago. Melifaro and I went to visit her. If you’re talking about that, Juffin, you can rest assured—everything was all above-board and proper. Too much so for my taste.”
“I see. I could have predicted the outcome of that visit without the help of clairvoyants—even twelve years before your birth. That’s not what I’m asking. Did you see her after that?”
“No. True, Melamori sent me a call several times. She inquired about my health and asked about my mood. Very sweet of her. I was touched.”
“By the way, how have you been feeling all this time?”
“You mean after my incarceration in the death cell? I haven’t spat any poison, at least, if that’s what you want to know.”
“What I want to know is something I’ll figure out for myself. Give me more details.”
“There’s nothing in particular to tell. Right afterward I felt I was in tip-top shape. My mood was good. Even too good. I felt cheerful, without any grounds for it, as though someone were tickling me. I wanted to laugh apropos of nothing. So I wandered around the house giggling like an idiot—children would say ‘I was feeling punchy.’”
“And that’s all?”
“Well, yes. Isn’t that enough?”
“Because of you, Sir Max, I have to be surprised so often it’s almost indecent,” said Juffin.
I couldn’t quite tell whether he was praising me or mocking me.
“So what happened? Tell me now—I’m on pins and needles!”
“Well, sit for a while without the pins and needles, and I’ll chew my food,” Sir Juffin snapped, biting off nearly half of the Glutton Pie, specialty of the house, which had just arrived.
He was really as eager to talk as I was to hear, and he began talking with his mouth full.
“The First and Last Lady of the Secret Investigative Force, Melamori, decided to test whether you were indeed worthy of her adoration.”
“I know one good way to test it,” I murmured. “If she doubts whether I am at her service any time of day or night, let her try me. You can tell her that.”
“Oh, Max, come on. Lady Melamori is a very serious woman. She has her methods. That’s why our cruel huntress has decided to shadow you.”
“What! Has she lost her mind?”
“No, I wouldn’t put it that way. She’s always been like that.”
“Are you sure that she’s on my trail? I feel absolutely fine.”
“Exactly. You feel wonderful. How did you put it—you feel ‘punchy’?”
I didn’t know what to think anymore. Lady Melamori on my trail! Unbelievable. But what usually happens to people in such cases? Deep depression at the very least. That’s the job of the Master of Pursuit—that’s why she’s hired. But I’m a rare bird. The queen of my heart is hot on my trail, and I feel nothing at all. Just a bit giddy. I’m a callous, insensitive pig. A monster. I hate myself.
There was another reason for my distress.
“And I thought she was asking because she was really worried. That she thought I was sick, since I wasn’t at work. And that she couldn’t wait until I turned up at the House by the Bridge again. But it was just her idea of an experiment. How humiliating.”
“Don’t worry,” said Juffin. “The old gal was interrogating you with the best of intentions—according to her own lights. If you had betrayed any sign of suffering, she would immediately have stopped. And she would have been completely happy. You see, for Melamori, her dangerous gift is a question of honor and fate. It’s the only thing she really has. Don’t worry. All our boys have had to undergo the same torments. Even I did—at the very start of my career, the lady decided to find out what kind of fish or fowl it was ordering her around.”
“I can only imagine the blow she got.”
“No, it wasn’t so bad. For her benefit I demonstrated my ‘Primary Shield’—though I could really have lost my temper. I have to hand it to her—the girl came to her senses in under an hour. She’s a fine damsel, that Melamori.”
“What is this ‘Primary Shield’?” I asked. “Is it something you can teach me?”
“The ‘Primary Shield’ is a poetic name for my own kind of Secret Weapon, Max. ‘Primary’ means it’s the least dangerous for my opponent. What can I teach you? You’ve got stronger shields than any person in this World. Stronger than I dared hope. And you’ll gradually learn to use them, but only through experience. Don’t sell yourself short. You just lack the terminology.”
“What a formidable character that Lady Melamori has turned out to be,” I sighed, pouring myself a comforting portion of kamra. “Such potent gifts at her disposal, yet she behaves like a little child.”
“Are you angry with her, Max? Don’t be. It’s not worth it. The poor thing is already moping around as it is.”
“No, I’m not mad. Just bemoaning my broken heart.”
“I warned you from the start that choosing her as a sweetheart wasn’t a very wise move. Does it never occur to you to listen to your elders, Sir Max?”
I sighed and cut myself a second slice of the Glutton Pie. I’m a callous human being. No broken heart can spoil my appetite—it’s been proven time and again.
“You don’t have anything to add regarding this incident except the sad story of your broken heart?” Juffin asked when we had polished off the pie.
“I don’t know. Actually, I should be asking you. How can it be that I don’t feel anything? Strange things are afoot.It seems that if I commit some crime, I can just calmly flee the scene. I’m a dangerous guy.”
“Yes, much more dangerous than many,” Juffin observed with a satisfied air. He looked like an artist whose hands had just put the finishing touches on a masterpiece.
“It’s all so strange. When I lived at home, I didn’t notice any miraculous inclinations in myself at all. I was as ordinary as the next person. I had peculiar dreams, but that was a personal matter. Maybe others dream the same way, but they just don’t talk about it? But as soon as I end up here, some novelty or other surfaces every day. Maybe you should just cut me in half to find out what’s inside!”
“Excellent idea, Sir Max. But you aren’t as invulnerable as all that. You’ve got your limits. Remember what happened to you in the Old Thorn?”
“The place that funny lanky fellow runs? What’s his name—Chemparkaroke.” I smiled, feeling a bit sheepish.
What happened there wasn’t an achievement I wanted to recall. Juffin had taken me to the Old Thorn when I was still waiting for my appointment to the service. He decided that I just had to try the Soup of Repose, a dish favored by all citizens of the Unified Kingdom.
As far as I understood it, this soup had a light narcotic effect, so harmless and pleasant that the whole family was accustomed to partaking of it, even the littlest tykes.
For that reason I plunged into the psychedelic adventure with no trepidation at all, although my whole life I had felt a cowardly antipathy toward drugs and drug users. My smattering of experience in this area was acquired, of course, in the last years of high school, and was so unsuccessful that rather than developing a habit, I developed a phobia.
I really fell face-first into the Soup of Repose. All my foreignness, which I simply forget about from time to time, came to the surface as soon as I had finished slurping up the first serving. Juffin suddenly found himself in the company of a blithering idiot, giggling over his empty bowl in a fit of hilarity. For me it wasn’t the most pleasant experience, either. In an instant I had become a hallucinating nutcase with compromised coordination. The respectable habitués of the Old Thorn, I imagine, were shocked by my behavior.