“But sir, I didn’t mean to,” I began, embarrassed. “I was just making a joke.”
“Right. Next thing you know, you’re going to say you’re sorry, and that it won’t happen again,” said Juffin, laughing out loud. “Just look at him, sitting there with a guilty expression. Anyone else would be gloating over it!”
Kofa Yox smiled gently. “That’s reassuring. It’s great to have at least one humble person working in our organization.” He sat down next to Juffin, facing me, and took a sip of kamra.
“This place has the best food in all of Echo, to be sure!” Sir Kofa Yox said, and smiled again. “I have news for both of you. Everyone in the city is talking about the Venerable Head’s new Nocturnal Representative—that’s you, son. There are two popular versions of the story. The first is that Juffin Hully brought a creature from the World of the Dead to Echo. Is that a look of delight I see, Sir Max? The second version is that the Venerable Head gave a job in the Force to his illegitimate son, whom he had been hiding away since time immemorial. What do you think of that, Juffin?”
“They couldn’t come up with anything more interesting than that?” my boss asked with a snort. “Capital City lore seems to thrive on only two topics: forbidden magic and the amorous adventures of my youth. The latter seems to arouse particular interest, because instead of being born in Echo like most normal people, I came here from Kettari. People think that there’s nothing to do in the provinces but indulge in daily fits of shameless lust. Yes, Kofa, the King will have to raise your salary. What a job, having to listen to such idle nonsense, day in and day out!”
“It’s all right. It annoyed me for the first eighty years, but I got used to it after that. I’ve worked with Juffin for a long time, Max,” said Kofa Yox, giving me another soft paternal smile.
“Before that, Sir Yox was Police General of the Right Bank,” said Juffin, “and tried to have me arrested for many years. On several occasions, his efforts nearly succeeded, but in the end, they all fell through. That was during the Epoch of Orders, a long time before the battle for the Code of Krember. In those days, any citizen could perform magic of the fortieth degree on a whim. Can you imagine?”
I shook my head. It was hard to adjust to the fact that people here lived no fewer than three hundred years. As for more prominent persons, who made up the majority of my acquaintances, they managed to extend their existence almost indefinitely.
How old was Kofa, anyway? I wondered. I would have said he was no older than sixty, and a sixty-year-old is a teenager by local standards. Melifaro, for example, who was about my age, I had thought, turned out to be one hundred and fifteen years old. He was born on the very morning that the Code of Krember had been established. In other words, he was born on the first day of the first year of the Code Epoch, something he liked to joke about, though in his heart I believe he was very proud of it. As for Juffin’s age, for some reason I was too shy to ask. Or maybe I was afraid of whatever mind-boggling number the answer might be. In any case, at the ripe old age of thirty I cut a strange figure in their midst. At my age they were only children, just learning to read and write.
While I was doing this arithmetic, our numbers had grown. A young man with a disproportionately long, skinny body hidden in a violet looxi stood in the doorway, smiling shyly. Walking toward us, he managed to knock over a stool. He apologized so sweetly to the middle-aged lady sitting near ground zero that she followed the clumsy young man with a tender gaze. The affable creature began talking even before he got to our table, gesticulating as he advanced.
“I am most honored to be able to pay you my respects in person, Sir Max! I have so many things to ask you. I must admit that I have been burning with anticipation for the past few days, if you will forgive my lack of discretion.”
“And you are—?” I asked.
The corners of my mouth began to spread into a smile. I felt like a rock star in the embraces of a fan who had been raised by his elderly grandmother, a countess.
“Please forgive me! I am very glad to speak my name. Sir Lookfi Pence, Master Keeper of Knowledge, at your service.”
“This little marvel of nature looks after our
My interest in Mr. Pence grew. I had already heard about these clever talking birds endowed with absolute memory. Buriwoks are rare in the Unified Kingdom. They come from the distant shores of Arvarox, but there are several hundred such wonderful creatures at the House by the Bridge. They serve as an archive for the Ministry of Perfect Public Order. The bird’s prodigious memory can store thousands of dates, names, and facts. I can certainly imagine that it would be much more interesting to talk to a buriwok than to sift through reams of paper. I was desperate to see one of these amazing birds with my own eyes, so the man who spent all his working days with them seemed to be a useful acquaintance.
“Why are you alone, Sir Lookfi?” asked Juffin, smiling at the Master Keeper of Knowledge, who had already seated himself beside me. One of the edges of his expensive looxi accidentally ended up in a mug of kamra though this was his only mishap for the moment.
Now, having studied his face for a time, I saw that Sir Lookfi was not as young as I’d first thought. Rather, he belonged to that rare breed of men who look like boys until they are old, when all of a sudden they begin to look their own age.
Lookfi smiled and said, “I’m alone, Sir Juffin, because the others stayed behind to discuss a philosophical matter: the question of necessity versus free will.”
“Sinning Magicians! What’s going on over there?”
“No need for concern, sir. They are trying to come to a decision. After all, someone should stay behind at the Ministry. On the one hand, that is Sir Melifaro’s responsibility. He is your Representative, and when you can’t be at the House by the Bridge, his presence there is required. He already knows Sir Max, so his presence here as a matter of etiquette would seem unnecessary. On the other hand, as your Deputy and our Senior, he has the right to appoint any substitute he judges to be competent.”
Juffin chuckled, and Sir Kofa smiled.
“When I left,” Lookfi continued, after absent-mindedly taking a gulp from my glass of Tears of Darkness, “Lady Melamori was saying that of the three of them, she was the only one who had not yet met Sir Max. She said she didn’t want to hear any more of their philosophical wrangling, and that she was going to sit in the next room until they finished their idiotic debate. Allow me, if I may, to disagree with her view of the matter. I think the discussion was very interesting, and I believe there is a moral to be learned from it. But I thought it might occur to Sir Melifaro that I am also a member of the Secret Investigative Force. In short, I thought it best to be impolite and leave on my own accord.”
“Give that glass back to Sir Max and take your own. There’s more in it,” Kofa Yox whispered. “Be careful, my boy: what if that’s considered a terrible insult among the inhabitants of the Barren Lands? You can’t imagine how frightening Sir Max is when he’s enraged.”
“Oh dear . . .” Sir Lookfi’s face expressed both of fear and curiosity at the same time. “Is that true, Sir Max?”
“You’re in luck,” I said. “According to our traditions, that signifies the beginning of a long and close friendship. To seal this pact, however, I must finish your glass. Besides, it’s brimming over!”
Sir Juffin Hully looked at me with almost fatherly pride. Lookfi was radiant:
“You see, Sir Kofa! And you said it was an insult. I have very good intuition, you know. When I was still just a schoolboy, I already . . . Oh, forgive me gentlemen. I get carried away sometimes. My school years are not the most interesting subject for table-talk.” He turned to me. “Sir Max, is it true that you will be working alone and only by night? You know, night is the most interesting time of day! I’ve always envied people who don’t feel the need to go to bed as soon as the sun sets. For example, my wife Varisha also believes that real life only begins after nightfall. That’s why I almost never get enough sleep.” He finished his speech abruptly, looking quite sheepish.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “Your habits also have their advantages.”
“It seems that the idea of responsibility has won in the philosophical debate,” Juffin said. “I salute the victors!”
Now I saw a couple, charming in all respects, approaching us. One of the two was the tall, lean Sir Shurf Lonli-Lokli, who resembled Charlie Watts. He was dressed, as usual, all in white. Leaning on his arm was a petite,
