The Stranger

appropriate ritual on them, he gave his colleagues from the Secret Investigative Force an edifying lecture on the dangers of gluttony. The sly old fox knew no one would pay the least bit of attention.

It had been ten days since our historic visit to Jafax, when I received a call from Sir Kofa Yox an hour before sunset. I was just about to fish out a sixth cigarette butt from the Chink between Worlds. Getting more than five cigarettes before leaving for work was a rare achievement, but I kept right on trying.

Take your regular clothes with you today, Max. You’ll need them, Kofa advised.

Has something happened? I asked in alarm.

No, but something will, believe me. Wait for me after midnight, boy. Over and out.

I was so intrigued that I even forgot to be glad about the sixth cigarette, which I found in my hand.

At the House by the Bridge, the usual chaos reigned. An angry, already thinner Melifaro was fighting off hordes of cooks who were lusting after the Earring of Oxalla.

“I work until sundown, gentlemen. Sun-DOWN. You know what that is? It’s when the sun goes beddy-bye. Do you know what the sun is? It’s that shiny round object that crawls through the heavens! I think I’m making myself clear. Come back tomorrow!”

The cooks shuffled disconsolately around the Hall of Common Labor, hoping Melifaro might just be blowing off a little steam before getting down to work again.

“Indeed, why don’t you come back tomorrow, gentlemen?” I suggested amicably. “Or if you’re so determined, I guess I could try my hand at it. Any volunteers?”

The cooks began to depart, eyeing my black and gold Mantle of Death suspiciously. A moment later, Melifaro and I found ourselves alone.

“Thanks, Mr. Bad Dream!” Melifaro smiled wearily. “I never realized there were so many cooks in Echo. Today alone I obliged a hundred fifty of them. It is magic, after all. And I’m not made of steel, as this monster Juffin seems to think I am. I’m going home to bed. Tomorrow it’s sure be more of the same!”

I went into the office. Sir Juffin Hully had already left, most likely to some tavern to sow the sweet fruits of his government labor.

“Max!” Melamori peeked through the half-opened door. “Are you here, yet?”

“No,” I said, with a shake of my head. “You’re hallucinating.”

“Oh, that’s what I thought,” said Melamori and perched on the arm of my chair. This was a sudden change of events!

“Will you treat me to some kamra, Sir Max? Let’s sit here and talk a bit. I don’t feel like walking today. You know, I just can’t sleep these days. I wanted to ask you . . .”

“Ask away.”

At that moment, the delivery boy from the Glutton Bunba> interrupted us. Melamori poured herself some kamra and leaned her face over the mug to catch the soothing steam. I understood this meant we would begin to talk in another ten minutes or so. I was already familiar with all her little habits. After thinking a bit, I reached for a cigarette. To heck with conspiracy and discretion—if worse comes to worst, I’ll tell her the cigarettes were sent to me from my long-lost homeland.

But Melamori wasn’t concerned about my cigarettes.

“I dream about you every night,” she announced gloomily. “And I just wanted to know, are you doing this on purpose?”

I shook my head. I had a clean conscience. I really didn’t have anything to do with it. And I actually had no idea how to pull something off like that off “on purpose.”

“I dream of you, too. What’s so surprising about that? I think about you, and then I dream of you. That’s all. That’s the way it always is.”

“I’m talking about something else. Are you sure you don’t do even a bit of magic?”

I burst out laughing.

“I wouldn’t even know how to do any magic like that, Melamori! Ask Juffin. He has to make such an effort to teach me the simplest things.”

This was something of an exaggeration. I learned easily and quickly. It just seemed to me that it wouldn’t hurt to lay it on a bit thick. Let the lady think I was a dullard, and sleep soundly.

“Fine. I probably think about you, Max—but these dreams truly frighten me. I just wanted to say that if you do making magic, you don’t need to. You don’t have to force me into anything. I want to myself, but . . . just wait a while. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before. I have to get used to it.”

“Certainly! Everything will be just as you say, my Fierce Lady. I can wait. I can learn to stand on my head, or dye my hair red. I’m a very agreeable guy.”

“Dye your hair red! Red!? Oh, you’re joking!” Melamori laughed out loud, sounding relieved. “How did that idea ever enter your head? Can you imagine what you’d look like?”

“I’ll look magnificent!” I announced proudly. “You won’t believe your eyes.”

When I was alone again, I shook my head in amazement. My long-suffering, longed-for office romance was slowly but surely approaching the finish line. And the dreams—well, we had “stepped all over each other’s hearts,” as they say here in Echo. That’s why we each had the same dreams.

It never occurred to me that I should take Melamori’s questions more seriously. I should have realized that we were both having the very same dream, but I didn’t want to. Sometimes I’m surprisingly thickheaded; especially if it’s more convenient for me.

“Are you bored, boy?” Sir Kofa Yox appeared so suddenly that I jumped up. “Get dressed. Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“What do you mean ‘where’? To the place they make miracles. We’re going to work on your education. Change your clothes.”

“But who’s going to stay here?” I had already taken off the black and gold Mantle of Death, underneath which‚ Praise be the Magicians, I was wearing a completely neutral, dark-green skaba. I started changing my other clothes. Boots with bells on them and dragons’ heads would have blown my cover.

“Kurush. He’s the one who’s been holding down the fort while Lady Melamori dragged you around to hideaways only fit for ruining your digestion.”

“Max never stays in one place,” the buriwok complained. “He comes and goes. People are so flighty and fickle.”

“You speak the truth, clever fellow,” said Kofa. “But you don’t mind, do you?”

“I don’t mind, as long as you bring me some pastry,” the conniving bird replied.

“I’m bringing you at least a dozen, you smart thing,” I promised, wrapping myself in a modest swamp- colored looxi. I adore looking unobtrusive!

“I’m ready, Sir Kofa!”

“Ready? No, you’re not. You don’t want anyone to recognize you, do you? Do you think you have the most ordinary physiognomy in Echo? Come here.”

Sir Kofa scrutinized me for a minute. Then he sighed and began to massage my face gently. It was pleasantly ticklish. At the end, he gave my nose a tug.

“I think that’ll do. Come look in the mirror.”

I went into the hall and stared at myself in the mirror. I saw an unprepossessing character gazing back at me—beady eyes, a long nose, with a protruding lower lip and a powerful, receding forehead. My good old pal Max was nowhere to be seen.

“Sir Kofa, can you put me back the way I used to be?” I asked nervously. “To tell you the truth, I don’t much like this sort of guy.”

“A lot you know! Like him or not, the important thing is that no one will recognize you or pay much attention to you. Faces like that are a dime a dozen. Haven’t you ever noticed?”

“Regrettably, no. I’m very slow about certain things. I’m not against it for the time being—just don’t forget to give me back my old face!”

“It will come back of its own accord, no later than tomorrow morning. Tricks like this don’t work for very