“This is too much!” I said. “All my life I was sure that the creator of something certainly had to be aware of what he was creating.”
“And now you know that’s not so. Experience isn’t the worst way to come by reliable information, what do you say? Drink up that foul-smelling stuff of yours, or it’ll get cold.”
“The smell of coffee is just something you have to get used to,” I said, smiling.
“I’m willing to believe it! Well, I’ll have to try it anyway. In that amusing city born of your tenderness and solitude, everyone drinks that stuff, don’t they?”
“I don’t doubt it. But what do you mean by ‘tenderness and solitude’? That’s just a manner of speaking, right?”
“It’s just a habit of mine to tell it like it is. Someday you’ll understand that these were the feelings that governed you when you first saw the vague outline of that place that never existed until you summoned it up. Don’t rush it, Max. You’ll have plenty of time to get to the bottom of your own escapades. The main thing is that they succeed—and so easily! Too easily I might have said; but no one asked me now, did they? But why should I waste my breath heaping praise on you? And praise really isn’t called for, since everyone just does what he can, whether he wants to or not. Did you want to ask me something, Max?”
All my carefully prepared questions had vanished from my head. Never mind, they weren’t important. I lit a cigarette, anticipating my enjoyment, and looked at Mackie with avid interest.
“And can you explain to me why you—or, why we, together—are doing all this? I mean why do we need to create new Worlds at all? I suspect that even without our help there are an infinite numbers of them.”
“Didn’t I tell you I couldn’t stand that darn-fool word ‘why’? Try using it a little less often. Or, better yet, drop it altogether. At least when you’re talking to me. ‘Why’ isn’t the right way of putting the question when you’re talking about creating a new World. Everything that’s truly interesting and worthwhile exists somewhere beyond the realm of cause and effect.”
Mackie tossed his head angrily, and methodically lit his short, oddly shaped pipe. Then he smiled under his mustache and went on, his tone much gentler now.
“Worlds, both inhabited and deserted, are far more numerous than you’re able to imagine. But we have to do something, you and I, don’t we? And then, who knows, maybe it’ll turn out better for us than it has thus far for others. Not a bad reason either, is it? Is that enough for you?”
“To be honest, no.”
“Well, ask Juffin sometime. There’s one who never objected to the word ‘why.’ On the contrary, he always loved to explain the reasons behind his own and others’ actions. And it’s easier for you two to communicate— you’re almost the same age.”
“The same age!”
“Well, compared to me, anyway. I can’t even remember how long I’ve been knocking about the World. It’s like I just got lost here at some point and then decided to stay. Though I’m not at all sure that’s really how it was.”
I shook my head in disbelief.
“All my life I wanted to live forever. Let others die, I thought, but I’ll hold out, somehow. And now you’ve given me hope.”
“Hope is a darn-fool feeling,” Sir Mackie said sternly, tossing his head again. “It’s best not to hope for anything, that’s my advice to you. Well now, let’s drop these serious matters. I have something else to discuss with you. From what I hear, your companion doesn’t know about any of this?”
“That’s something I wanted to ask you. Poor Lonli-Lokli couldn’t get beyond the city gates. When he tried it made him feel sick and uncomfortable. I wanted to let him know about my city in the mountains. He saw my dream, too, one time. Why should I have to hide something like that from Shurf? Besides, he’s good at keeping secrets.”
“I’m not the one you should be asking,” Mackie said, smiling. “A newborn World is always very capricious. They have their own idiosyncrasies. Take Juffin, for example. It never wants him to get too close to it. Why might that be? No idea. Though if anyone should know, it’s me. Honestly, I don’t have a lot to say in the matter. Maybe later, at home, your friend can hear the whole story without even wincing. I think that’s how it’s likely to unfold. But I do have a request that’s more for your friend than for you. Alas, I’m unable to invite him here.”
“A request?” I asked, surprised. “You have a request for Lonli-Lokli?”
“Yes. That comes as a surprise to you?”
“Of course it does. I didn’t think there was anything you lacked or couldn’t take care of yourself.”
“Well, to be honest, it’s not that I can’t take care of it myself, but that I don’t want to. I’m lazy, you know. And then, this matter will be quite intriguing for your friend, you’ll see. As far as the caprices of newborn Worlds are concerned, what they’re always ready to indulge is any kind of culprit or evil spirit. Not long ago, a gentleman showed up in these parts—someone I didn’t take a liking to at all. Not that he’s all that dangerous for the locals, but it’s unpleasant for me to have to be aware of his constant presence.”
“Another Mutinous Magician?”
“Worse, Max. A Dead Magician. Believe me, there’s no evil spirit more restless than a Grand Magician killed unjustly. And your friend is an expert in such matters, as I understand it.”
“You got that right.” I smiled. “He’ll take care of him in no time.”
“Well, I don’t know about ‘in no time’—I think you’re being a bit hasty there. But he’ll take care of him, I’m pretty sure. Just tell your companion that Kiba Attsax is on the loose. That’ll be enough, you’ll see.”
“Sure, I’ll tell him. Is that all?”
“You can also say it’s a big problem, that in Kettari things were just fine till that ornery varmint came around. That claim is very close to the truth, and a person should always be sure he’s doing something important. It’s more pleasant that way, and things will progress better.” He rose from his chair. “Well, I’d say you’ve had enough of my company for one day. Last time it was a bit too much for you, wasn’t it? Did it take long for you to recover?”
“Twenty gallons of cold water on my poor crazy head. The secret cure of Sir Maba of Echo, or Magicians only know where he’s from. Seriously, Mackie—I almost went totally bonkers! Maybe you’ve got a better cure?”
“A long walk. But it’s even better to busy yourself with something completely meaningless. Doesn’t matter what. Read a book. Play cards with someone. The main thing is not to sit in one place, and not to try to reason it all out. Nothing will come of it, no matter how hard you try. Got it?”
“Got it,” I said. “Well, I’ll think of something. By the way, you don’t happen to know the name of that city? My city in the mountains, I mean?”
“No idea. You should have asked the people who live there. G’night, partner!”
“Good night, Mackie. I’m off to do something meaningless, as you suggest. That’s what I do best.”
I left the
It was a fairly casual proposition, but not a groundless one—I could play a mean game of Krak. Sir Juffin Hully himself had taught me to kill time that way. And he was the luckiest card player in the Unified Kingdom.
Then some hundred-odd years ago, the late Gurig VII issued a special proclamation that prohibited Sir Juffin from playing Krak in public places. The old King was forced to take this measure after the fortunes of several dozen of his courtiers migrated into the pockets of the enterprising Kettarian. Juffin, by the way, didn’t object. There was no one left who could keep him company at the card table, and the unprecedented Royal Proclamation flattered him no end.
With me, Juffin played purely for pleasure, of course, since this took place at the time I was still financially dependent on him. Anyway, the first day, after a dozen embarrassing losses, I won two games against Sir Juffin Hully. He couldn’t believe his eyes. The next evening, we continued playing. Our luck fluctuated. I still lost more often than my experienced teacher. But, in Juffin’s words, even that was highly improbable.
I should note that I myself saw nothing improbable in it. Already as a child, I had concluded that a great deal depends on who teaches you to play a game. It doesn’t really have anything to do with pedagogical gifts—you just need to learn from a lucky player. If you do, in addition to getting useful information about the rules of the game,
