Макс Фрай - The Stranger

“Well, I don’t like it.”

“You don’t like it?” I asked. “That’s impossible! Glamma, friend, are you ill, or just tired out from the last hundred years? You just need to take it easy. If you can share my dreams every night, if you want. You liked them, didn’t you?”

“Yes, they were wonderful. I must say, your offer is very generous. Even too generous.”

“Yes, and so what if it is! Oh, Glamma, take out the money—we must pay the rest of the fee. There it is, the bazaar! Where do you suggest we settle for the night? Preferably not too near our sweet fellow travelers. Let them think whatever they want. We’ve reached our destination, and après nous, le déluge .”

“‘After us the flood’? You know that expression?”

“Why is it so surprising?” Now I myself was caught off guard.

“That saying was written on the entrance of the Order of the Watery Crow. Didn’t you know?”

“What sincere, warmhearted people,” I mused. “What I can never manage to get my mind around is the thought of their potency and might, with a name like that.”

“Sometimes you really amaze me. What is it you don’t like about the name?”

“Perhaps we should settle our accounts with Mr. Abora and take a spin around town,” I suggested, unwilling to take the time to explain why the name of the Watery Crow inspired amusement rather than awe. “We’re not going to live in a hotel that’s full of tourists from the Capital. If you want to get to know a place you have to find yourself real living quarters. And it will be more restful without other people around.”

“A very wise decision,” Lonli-Lokli agreed. “I imagine the old fox Master Caravan Leader can give us some advice. I’m sure that these kinds of caprices among his tourists provide an extra source of income for him.”

“Like heck he’s going to earn something else off of me!” I said with a grin. “Let’s go, Glamma. I’m in love with this town. Believe me, I’ll find a place to stay within an hour that’s better and cheaper than something that rogue would dig up for us. I’ll bet in his free time Mr. Vala lies to himself just for fun, and it makes him happy not to trust anyone.”

“As you wish,” Lonli-Lokli said. “Look for a place to stay, then, Marilyn. I won’t be any help. I can, however, get the money out of the purse.”

“Oh, right. You’re wearing gloves. Give him what we owe him, then turn down that alley. It looks like something’s gleaming there. I’m hoping it’s water. All I need are riverfront lodgings for my happiness to be complete.”

Lonli-Lokli slowly got out of the amobiler, then went to pay our guide. When he came back, he looked me over from head to toe. He had eyes that inspired trust, like a good psychiatrist. I lowered my gaze demurely. Sir Shurf got behind the levers again, and we turned down the alley I was so smitten with. A moment later we were driving along the bank of a river. Small, delicate bridges, and an occasional stately, massive one, crisscrossed the dark crease of the narrow, deep river.

“Oh,” I sighed. “How can you not love all this, you sourpuss? Look at the bridges! Just look! Gosh, what’s the name of this little river? You don’t happen to know by any chance, do you?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea,” Lonli-Lokli said. “We’ll have to look at a map.”

“Around here is where we have to stay,” I said dreamily. “And then we’ll go home, and my poor heart will be broken all over again.”

“Again?” Lonli-Lokli asked, as though he hadn’t heard me correctly. “Excuse me, but Sir Max doesn’t create the impression of someone with a broken heart.”

I nodded cheerfully.

“It’s one of my inconvenient qualities. The worse things are going, the better I look. More than once I tried borrowing money from friends when I looked like I had just won the lottery. My absolutely true stories about living for a week on just bread and water went over like a load of baloney.”

“And you really experienced such hard times?”

Spending time with me clearly encouraged the development of Sir Shurf’s facial muscles. A look of surprise crept into his usually expressionless countenance.

“Yes, can you imagine? Sometimes I didn’t have anything to eat at all. Thank goodness everything changes. Sometimes.”

“That explains a lot,” Lonli-Lokli said thoughtfully. “That’s why it’s so easy to be around you, despite your madness.”

“What? Well, you sure know how to flatter a guy.”

“It’s not a compliment, but an observation. Maybe you put another construction on the term.”

I sighed. Who said anything about semantics? It was already clear to me that Lonli-Lokli wasn’t trying to praise me this time.

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” Sir Shurf said in a conciliatory manner. “A completely normal person just isn’t cut out for our line of work. When I was in the Order they used to say, ‘A good sorcerer doesn’t fear anyone but a madman.’ A bit of an exaggeration, naturally, but I think Sir Juffin Hully operates on this principle when he chooses his colleagues.”

“Fine,” I said. “I am what I am, and whatever you call me won’t change anything. Let’s stop here, Glamma. I want to walk along the riverbank and mingle with the locals. Something in my heart tells me they’re dying to give shelter to two rich idlers from the Capital. Don’t worry, I remember. My name is Marilyn; and I’m planning on having a little chat with some sweet little old ladies.”

“Do what you must,” said Lonli-Lokli. “After all we shouldn’t forget that Sir Max is my boss.”

“Oh, come on.” I couldn’t restrain a nervous chuckle. “All right, I’ll be back soon.”

I felt a thrill when my feet touched the amber sidewalk. Through the thin soles of my boots I felt the tender warmth of the yellow stone. My body felt light and happy, like I was about to take to the air. Kettari was wonderful, like my favorite dreams, and I now felt more like a sleepwalker than someone wide awake.

I crossed the street with Lady Marilyn’s light step, then strolled along, peering at the tiny ancient houses in ecstasy and smiling all the while. “The Old Riverfront,” I said, reading the name on a plaque. Well, here’s something else I like!

Oh, Juffin! I thought. If I could shout loudly enough for you to hear, I would be sure to say that a remarkable old fellow like you could only be born in such a magical place as this. I’m hardly likely to be able to say this when I see you. So I’m telling you now, just so you know, all right?

I was so absorbed in thinking about what I would want to say to the boss that I almost knocked over a small, frail old woman. Luckily, the dexterity of her tiny frame was hardly in keeping with her years. At the last moment, she swerved aside sharply and grabbed on to the carved handle of a small garden gate.

“What’s wrong with you, child? Where did you leave your pretty eyes? In your husband’s snuffbox?” she snapped at me angrily.

“I’m awfully sorry,” Lady Marilyn said, embarrassed. “I just arrived a half hour ago in this town I’ve been hearing about since childhood. I never imagined it would be this beautiful! That must be why I’ve gone a bit out of my head—but it will soon pass, don’t you think?”

“Oh? And where have you arrived from, dear?” the old woman asked, clearly moved.

“Echo,” I replied with a slight feeling of guile. When you tell someone from a small provincial town that you are from the Capital, you are overcome with a sense of awkwardness, as though you have just snatched a silver spoon from your conversation partner’s sideboard.

“But you don’t have an accent like someone from the Capital,” remarked the observant old lady. “And it’s not like ours, either. Where were you born, young miss?”