seems to have addled your brain, you are being sent to Xolomi for three days. There you will help the commandant to study the Secret Archive. I don’t know anyone better than you for getting the job done. Keeping secrets is in your blood. You’ll feel like a prisoner, as well you should! If anything happens here, I’ll send for you. So pray to the Dark Magicians for a bloody crime. Oh yes, and don’t forget to bribe Sir Kamshi. A kiss would be cheaper, but I’d advise you to warm him up with something from your Uncle Kima’s wine cellars. That way you won’t have to make a commitment, and it will certainly surpass even his wildest expectations. Now off to jail you go.”
Lady Melamori rolled her eyes in mock martyrdom. “You see, Max? There you have it: the fist of tyranny! Sending me to Xolomi for three days because of an innocent prank!”
“That’s what you think!” Juffin said with a caustic chuckle. “The old commandant will treat you like royalty. Have you heard about his chef?”
“Yes, and that’s the only reason I haven’t poisoned myself right here in your office.” Melamori stopped short, and added petulantly, “Forgive me, Sir Juffin, but Foofloss is such an idiot. I couldn’t help myself.”
“I’m not surprised in the least!” And with that, Juffin started laughing again.
I had little doubt that in the past Melamori Blimm had gotten away with other, less innocent, pranks.
Before the lovely criminal was whisked off to Xolomi in one of the company amobilers, she whispered to me quickly, “I’m not always like this.” I’d have liked to believe it.
“I am afraid, Sir Max, that today I will have to address you on an official footing,” said Juffin, whose manner had become instantly solemn. “Let me first tell you a bit about Kurush.”
The story of Lady Melamori’s malfeasance had occupied my full attention. Only then did I notice the shaggy owl-like bird, seated on the back of an empty arm chair. The buriwok (and it was definitely a buriwok) deigned to study my personage from on high.
“It’s all right, he’ll do,” the feathered wonder said at long last. As far as I could make out, it was referring to me.
“Thank you, Kurush,” I said. I had wanted to joke, but it came out sounding quite serious. Sir Juffin nodded.
“That means a lot coming from him. If you only knew the things he said about the others!”
“What did you say about the others?” I asked the bird.
“That is classified information,” Kurush answered stolidly. “And you have business to attend to.”
The “business” was that Sir Juffin made me repeat some mumbo-jumbo in an unintelligible language. Apparently, it was a powerful ancient spell that bound me to serve the interests of the crown.
“But I don’t feel a thing,” I said in confusion, having gotten through the tongue-twisting text with some difficulty.
“You aren’t supposed to feel anything. At least, when I said it I didn’t feel anything out of the ordinary either. Maybe it’s just an old superstition. Then again, perhaps it does work; who knows? Now get ready. I must read you the Employee’s Code in Kurush’s presence. You don’t have to pay too much attention to it; just try to think about something pleasant. The reading will take some time. Kurush will be able to quote from any chapter, if necessary. Isn’t that right, dear?” Juffin looked tenderly at the buriwok, who in turn swelled with pride.
I won’t take it upon myself to repeat the instructions read to me. In a nutshell, I was told that I should do everything I am supposed to and not do anything that I am not supposed to do. To convey this simple truth, some bored court bureaucrat wasted several sheets of first-rate paper, and Sir Juffin spent more than half an hour reiterating this literary masterpiece. He finished with a sigh of relief. Another sigh escaped me at the same time. Only Kurush seemed to get any pleasure out of the procedure.
“Why do birds as smart as yourself work for humans?” I asked the buriwok. The question had been nagging me for the last half an hour. “There aren’t very many of us here,” the bird answered. “It’s hard to make a living, but some of us find living with people to be peaceful and interesting. Where there are more of us, we live in isolation and possess great powers. But here there are so many different words, so many stories!”
“That’s a good answer, Kurush,” Juffin said, smiling affectionately. “Do you understand, Max? They find us amusing!”
After that I was ceremoniously handed my “battle weapon,” a miniature dagger that looked more like a manicure accessory than a deadly instrument. There was a gauge in the hilt that signaled the presence of both forbidden and permitted magic. In fact, I had already seen one of these things in action and concluded that it wasn’t all that powerful. Well, all the better. It’s best not to be under any illusions from the outset.
Having finished with the formalities, we went up to the top floor of the House by the Bridge, where I was introduced to a plump, kindly little man in an orange looxi.
“I am glad to speak my name. I am Sir Qumbra Qurmac, Chief of Great and Minor Awards for the Ministry of Perfect Public Order. I am one of the most personable subjects in the whole of this forbidding place, as I am in charge of awarding prizes and other such pleasant things,” said the friendly man, who vaguely resembled a tangerine.
“Sir Qumbra Qurmac is the only official representative of the Royal Court in the Ministry,” Juffin added. “So no matter how intensive our efforts, without the weighty backing of Sir Qumbra they would vanish into obscurity.”
“Don’t believe a word Sir Hully says,” the fat man countered, clearly flattered. “He is one person whose opinion is always welcome at court. Still, I do believe, Sir Max, that I was the first one to report your outstanding deeds to the King.”
I stared at my boss, dumbfounded. What outstanding deeds? asked my bewildered expression.
“He means the affair with old Makluk’s mirror,” explained Juffin. “Of course you weren’t yet employed in the Ministry, but that makes it all the more of an honor! The Unified Kingdom must celebrate its heroes.”
“You, Sir Max, are the first person I recall entering the service with an award already under your belt,” said Sir Qumbra Qurmac, and bowed. “And believe me, I have been in the service for many years. I ask that you kindly accept this gift.” He gave me a little box made of dark wood. I knew that upon receiving a gift in Echo one is expected inspect it very closely. I tried to open the box, to no avail.
“Max, that is a gift from the King!” Juffin chastised. “You can’t open it just like that. I believe white magic of the fourth degree is required. So you’ll have to open it at home; casting spells in public places is forbidden. And there is a reason for that: one should enjoy a royal gift in private.”
“I’m sorry,” I said blushing. “I’ve never gotten a gift from the King before.”
“It’s quite all right, Sir Max,” Sir Qumbra said consolingly. “Just think of how many employees there are here who know exactly what to do with a gift like that, but have never had the honor of receiving one. I’d say you’re in an enviable position.”
I thanked the King and his court, and in particular Sir Qurmac, profusely. Then Juffin and I departed.
“You should have told me,” I grumbled. “But you enjoy watching my blunders, don’t you?”
“Believe me, it’s better for everyone that way. What kind of ‘barbarian from the borderlands’ would you be if you did everything right? Have faith, my boy; conspiracy is a great power, indeed!”
“Yeah, right. Give me a hand with this box, will you? I don’t think I can do it myself.”
“Don’t be so modest. You try first, and if nothing comes of it then I’ll give you a hand. Let’s lock the door first, though. It’s all right, don’t worry! Stranger things have taken place in my office.”
I put the box on the table and tried to relax, recalling all the things I had been taught. Nothing happened. Ashamed, I made a helpless gesture.
“Sir Max, I am afraid I could be mistaken. Let’s see here . . . Yes, all you need is magic of the fourth degree. You know that already; give it another try.”
Then I got angry. Angry at the box, angry at the King who had foisted it on me in the first place, angry at Juffin who just didn’t want to help . . . Fine, we’ll try something different for a change! In my rage, I called for the courier so imperiously that he probably fell off his chair in alarm. I even imagined that I heard the smack as he hit the floor, although that was impossible, of course. A few seconds later, he knocked on the door timorously. Sir Juffin was taken aback.
“What’s come over you?”
“I won’t be able to get through this without a warm cup of kamra!”
“That’s not a bad idea.”
