The Stranger

record.

“House #2. Owner: Kunk Stifan. Lives in the house with two underage sons. His wife, Trita Stifan, died in the year 107. In the year 110, he was suspected of killing the maid, one Pamma Lorras. He was proven innocent and received compensation for damages. A witch-doctor confirmed that his wife died in her sleep of heart disease. Uses the services of a daytime maid and four tutors for the boys. Does not employ full-time help. He was obliged to leave his position at the Ministry of Big Money due to illness at the beginning of this year.

“House #3. Owner: Rogro Zhil, editor-in-chief of the Royal Voice and co-owner of the Echo Hustle and Bustle. His detailed dossier is kept in the archives. He currently lives on Ginger Dream Street in the New City. The house on the Street of Old Coins is neither for rent nor for sale, as the owner is in no need of funds.”

“His dossier is something of an epic poem,” whispered Juffin. “But at the moment that’s not what we are interested in. You may enjoy reading it, though, in your spare time. I highly recommend it.”

Houses #4, #5, #6 . . . All the stories bore a certain resemblance to one another. The inhabitants of the Street of Old Coins turned out to be the most miserable wretches in all of Echo: they got sick, lost their loved ones, and then they died. No criminal records, no suicides, nothing mysterious. But a whole street full of terminally ill widows and orphans? And in Echo, of all places, where your average witch-doctor was nearly capable of bringing the dead back to life! Talk about coincidence.

“House seven,” the bird repeated patiently, “Owner: Tolakan Enn; wife: Feni Enn, no children. In the year 54 of the Code Epoch, the house was left to him by his father, Sir Genelad Enn, the Royal Court’s Chief Supplier. Altogether his inheritance was worth a dozen million crowns.”

I whistled in surprise. Sir Tolakan was absurdly wealthy. You could live for a week on just one crown—if, of course, you didn’t buy large quantities of the expensive nonsense that is displayed in the windows of antique shops.

“No criminal record,” the buriwok continued. “They do not socialize. A detailed dossier on these individuals can be found in the archives.”

“Amazing, isn’t it?” Sir Juffin remarked. “For the last five dozen years already, one unfathomably rich man has been a resident of this wretched slum. Oh, sorry Max, don’t get me wrong. I was just quoting public opinion on the matter. Anyway, of all the people on the whole street, he and his wife are the only ones who are neither stricken with illness nor on their deathbeds.”

“House eight,” the buriwok continued in a monotonous voice. “Owner: Gina Ursil. No criminal record. The house’s prior owner, Lea Ursil, Gina’s mother, lost the Spark and died in the year 87 of the Codex Epoch. Since then, the house has been empty, as the owner lives in her Estate in Uruland.”

“I assume you’ve already heard the most important bits,” said Juffin and sighed. “It goes on and on like this. Empty houses, sick widows, frail widowers, dead parents, and children in weak health. And, finally, your little bachelor pad, which, as we already know, has its own mournful history. Well, thank you Tatoon. I think that will be all for now. I’ll ask Kurush for the details.”

“What about the pub?” I asked. “The Sated Skeleton. I had breakfast over there yesterday. Is it all right?”

“That’s the brightest place on your cheery little street. Mind you, people work there and eat there, of course, but they don’t sleep there. Even the proprietor, Goppa Talabunn, lives above the Drunken Skeleton, one of his other pubs. I think he has about a dozen of them, but the word skeleton figures in all their names. Goppa thinks it sounds amusing, and most of his clientele thinks the same.”

Juffin thanked Lookfi and the buriwoks and we set out for the office. Kurush, as always, was dozing on the back of an armchair.

“Wake up,” said Juffin, tenderly ruffling the feathers on the buriwok’s soft neck. “We need to get some work done.”

Kurush opened his round eyes and said, “Peanuts first.”

While the smarty-pants consumed his peanuts, Juffin and I managed to drink down a mug of kamra and even ordered refills.

“I’m ready,” Kurush announced finally.

“In that case, start digging through your memory, buddy. We are interested in anything that has to do with Number Seven on the Street of Old Coins. Once you’ve collected all the material, you may begin reciting it. Sir Max is collecting gossip about his neighbors, so I do hope you come up with something worthwhile.”

Kurush puffed himself up and then fell silent. I imagined him quietly humming like a small computer. Several minutes later, the buriwok shook his feathers, and began.

“Number Seven on the Street of Old Coins is one of the oldest in Echo. It was built in the year 1140 by a Master Blacksmith, one Stremmi Broh, and later inherited by his son, Kardu Broh, then by his heiress, Vamira Broh. In 2154, during the Epoch of Orders, Vamira Broh sold the house to the Gusot family. Mener Gusot, known as Grand Magician of the Order of Green Moons was born in the house in 2346. Later the house was presented to him as a gift after his coming of age, and he lived there, cut off from the rest of the world. As everyone knows, in the year 2504, Mener Gusot founded the Order of Green Moons. Until the power of the order became common knowledge, they held their meetings at the Grand Magician’s apartment. Number seven on the Street of Old Coins never stood empty. Even after a new residency was built for the Order in 2675, the Grand Magician said that he was involved in ‘especially important work’ there.

“During the Troubled Times, the Order of Green Moons was one of the first to fall, because it belonged to a number of groups that made no secret of their rivalry with the Order of the Seven-Leaf Clover. Almost all the Order’s disciples, novices, and Magicians were killed. The Grand Magician, Mener Gusot, committed suicide in the courtyard of the burning residency of the Order on the 233rd day of the year 3183 of the Epoch of Orders, five years before the beginning of the Code Epoch. It is known that twelve initiates of the movement survived. According to information from the Order of the Seven-Leaf Clover they all left the Unified Kingdom immediately. Information about each of them can be found in the Main Archive and is updated whenever new information becomes available.

“All the late Mener Gusot’s property, including the house on the Street of Old Coins, passed into the possession of the King. In the 8th year of the Code Epoch, the house was sold by order of the highest authority to Sir Genelad Enn, Chief Supplier to the Royal Court. In the year 10, Sir Genelad Enn died and Sir Tolakan Enn, Chief Advisor to the Department for the Dispensation of Allowances, and the only son of the deceased, inherited the house. The Estate stood empty until the year 54, when the Enn family moved back from their country home. In the year 55, Sir Tolakan Enn left his position at the Department for the Dispensation of Allowances. Since then, they have lived in a reclusive fashion, employing only day servants. Popular opinion attributes the adoption of such a lifestyle to the extreme stinginess sometimes found in the very wealthy. And give me some more peanuts.”

After that imperious demand, Kurush fell silent.

“What a story, Sir Max.” Juffin chuckled, gathering peanuts from his various desk drawers. “So, the father gets the house and dies two years later. All is fine while the house stands empty. In 54 an heir moves in. Not even a year goes by and he undergoes a complete personality change. He leaves his job for no apparent reason, dismisses all the help, and becomes one of Echo’s most reticent inhabitants. And Lady Feni, the most famous socialite of the first half of the century, doesn’t object? His old friends don’t get any explanations, believe me, I’ve checked. There is no solid proof of foul play, however, and when it comes to people’s private lives . . . well, even the richest man in the city has the right to keep to himself. Everyone is perplexed by it at first, but then they just forget about it and get on with their business.”

“So those two just never leave their house?”

“Well, not exactly; Lady Feni does. She goes out at least once every dozen days or so. And she is just as cold and impenetrable as back in the day when her beauty was the greatest sensation at the royal court. But she makes no visits of any kind. Lady Feni goes shopping. She buys mounds of stuff—sometimes necessary, but for the most part useless. She seems to have set herself the task of acquiring the most extensive range of hodgepodge in the shortest possible time. However, for a woman of her standing, and with the fortune and the amount of free time she has at her disposal, such behavior is completely normal.”