undesirable to my mind.”
“But what could this old man have done to her?” I asked, confused. “Surely he’s no great warrior.”
“Never judge too hastily, my friend. Once a person has learned to shoot from the Slingshot of Babum, he never loses the skill. And a shot to the head is capable of killing anyone, even the Master of Pursuit. Do you see what he has in his hands?”
My head was spinning. Melamori could have died by some primitive slingshot in the junky recesses of a dank old corridor—this was too much! Never mind my ill-used broken heart. Let her do what she wishes. Let her even get married, like countless other old girlfriends of mine; but let her stay alive! I don’t really know whether a good friendship has advantages over a flaming passion, as Juffin claims it does, but it has a decided advantage over death!
“Let’s hurry and get out of here, Shurf,” I said hoarsely. “We’ll get rid of this Xropper character, and then scram.”
Lonli-Lokli had no objections, and we went on our way, wandering through littered corridors and steep staircases until we found ourselves in a basement room.
“Stay behind me, Max,” Lonli-Lokli said in a tone that brooked no argument. “Today hasn’t been the most uneventful day, and there may be more excitement in store. He’s somewhere nearby, so . . .”
The lustrous white shimmer of Lonli-Lokli’s death-dealing hands began cutting intricate designs in the darkness.
“What are you doing, Shurf?”
“It’s better to force your victim out than to seek him yourself. Do you really think that killing is my only accomplishment, Max? My profession requires a much wider spectrum of skills.” He paused and squinted into the darkness. “See? There he is. This spell is foolproof—with people, that is.
His final exclamation was accompanied by a bright explosion, and I realized that Sir Xropper Moa, the Grand Magician of the Order of the Barking Fish, had left the world of the living. At that moment, his name assumed an honorable place on the list of the latest accomplishments of the Secret Investigative Force.
“There you have it,” Lonli-Lokli said, pulling on his gloves. “Finishing a case is always easier than starting it. Have you ever thought about that, Max?”
“No, but I promise I will.”
“As always, Sir Shurf has been equal to the task!” Juffin’s voice rang out from behind us. “I apologize, but we were detained, boys. I used the opportunity to lecture Lady Melamori over the body of the slovenly old codger.”
“I told you we would miss the most interesting part,” Melamori protested in an injured tone. She was still shrouded in darkness. “Everyone’s already been killed. How disappointing!”
“The most interesting part, you say?” Juffin’s eyebrows shot up. “Gentlemen, do you know what’s in this basement?”
“Of course we do,” Melifaro’s face appeared in the doorway. “Somewhere here is the secret entrance to Jafax. The eldest son of Sir Gartom Xattel Min is one of the most prominent junior Magicians of the Order of the Seven-Leaf Clover, hallowed be its name, and greetings to your Uncle Kima, Melamori. Is that what you meant, Sir?”
“It’s impossible to surprise any of you,” Juffin said, pursing his lips in mock displeasure. “My congratulations, boys. Today Grand Magician Nuflin will be able to sleep peacefully, which doesn’t happen every day. It’s too bad, of course, that you had to kill Xropper, Sir Shurf.”
“But you know yourself, Sir Juffin, that this is the lot of every Mutinous Magician who has made three attempts at murder, whatever the outcome.”
“Don’t take it amiss, Sir Shurf. Your actions were perfectly correct. I just wanted to know what this madman intended to do with the Shining Seven-Leaf Clover. As far as I know, this object is of no benefit to anyone else in the World but Magician Nuflin. Perhaps I’m wrong?”
The tremor of uncertainty in Sir Juffin Hully’s voice lent a certain charm to the end of the case. Besides, there was still trouble in store for us.
We returned to the House by the Bridge and put old Xattel Min in a a detention cell for those awaiting trial. It was decided not to revive this poor apology for a marksman while he was still wearing the belt. Why borrow trouble?
“Go home to rest, boys,” Juffin ordered. “Everyone but . . . How about you, Max? Are you ready to roll?”
“I’ll say!” I admitted readily.
I was even afraid to think of going home. Armstrong and Ella were waiting for me; but so were sweet memories that were better kept at bay.
I looked at Melamori, who was intent on studying the floor under her own feet. The prospect of going home to rest clearly did not fill her with enthusiasm, either. She was as unhappy as I was, proof that I wasn’t alone in having found at last what I had sought for so long. Sooner or later she would have to try to make her life bearable—and the sooner the better. So I did the first thing that occurred to me: I sent a call to Melifaro.
Melifaro nearly fell off his chair in astonishment, then looked at me quizzically.
I saved face by running off and closing myself in the office that Juffin and I shared. Since I really am “as jealous as . . . ,” I do wonder “what,” or “whom”?
Sir Juffin Hully joined me after a few minutes.
“Are you sure you can hold out one more night, Max? I can probably do without your help. Only you’ll have to release your bosom buddy. Can you get along without him?”
“Bosom buddy? Oh, Sinning Magicians, Juffin! I completely forgot!”
Now this was amusing: I had grown so used to carrying around Agon the miniscule merchant that I had ceased paying any attention to him at all. “Do you need him now?”
“Not really. You can wait a while if you’re not in any hurry. Lady Sotofa promised to arrive in a few hours. I need Agon to send a call to his captives, all those belted fools. They’ll come to the House by the Bridge and Lady Sotofa will undress them. That’s nothing to her, as you know.”
“In that case, I’m not going anywhere. Lady Sotofa is a queen among women! Don’t you think so?”
Sir Juffin sniffed.
“That she may very well be. Well now, Sir Max. We’ll have some dinner, and you can set your companion free a bit later. You aren’t very anxious to go home, am I right?”
“You know I don’t want to,” I said.
“Excellent. That means that I won’t be the only one who’s dead tired at daybreak. But you know what? Your favorite Elixir of Kaxar can help you for another two or three days. Four if you’re lucky.” Juffin looked at me closely. “Has it ever occurred to you that it would be easier and much more practical to pack up and move, rather than shuffling around Headquarters with your eyes glued shut?”
“No, it didn’t. I’m an idiot, aren’t I?”
“Yes, now and then,” Juffin said smiling. “So do you want to stay in the Old City or move to the New? Then you’d have the chance to demonstrate your chief talent every day—driving the amobiler into the ground.”
“If you need to change things, you should do it all at once. I’ll move to the New City! Somewhere there a sweet lady has opened a tavern. At one point I had the sense to give her the same advice I just heard from you. Funny, isn’t it, how much harder it is to take advice yourself than to give it to other people? By the way, you’re slandering me. I’ve never driven the amobiler so hard it broke down.”
“Not yet, anyway. Here, take the key, and remember this address: 18 Street of Yellow Stones. I tried to find
