Макс Фрай - The Stranger

I lost the first round without much difficulty. Evidently, my new partner really was an ace. I won the second, though, since my luck seemed to be just revving up.

“Two?” I suggested.

“Two crowns per game?” Tarra drew out the words. “Well, I’ll be, Brando. You’re a guy who likes to take risks, aren’t you? Three!”

“Three it is!” I tried my best to look like a fool you could reason with.

Then I won six games in a row. I realized that Mr. Tarra might also be overcome by a sudden need for sleep, so I quickly lost two in a row. My new partner played well enough that it didn’t take much effort to lose to him.

“Six!” he wagered, after his second win. I nodded, and then won almost a dozen games. It happened so fast he didn’t know what hit him.

“Good morning, gentlemen, It’s already getting light,” I said as I stretched and stood up.

“Are you leaving already, Brando?” Tarra asked. It seemed to have just dawned on him that his money was leaving with me. “You could at least give me a chance to win it back.”

“I wouldn’t advise it,” I said. “You’d only lose more. Don’t be sad, friend! You’ll get lucky someday, too. Kettari’s full of tourists, as far as I understand. It’s just that your moon is crazy about me!”

“Moon? Well, well, well . . .” my partner drawled in confusion. “Who taught you to play Krak, Brando?”

“My aunt. You’re lucky she hasn’t left her house in three hundred years. Don’t grieve, Tarra. There won’t be any more visitors like me in Kettari in your century. You really can play! I hardly had to try at all to let you win now and then.”

“To let me win! Are you mocking me?” The fellow seemed to take it as an insult.

“Well, of course I had to lose occasionally,” I said in a conciliatory tone. “But it hasn’t been such a great blow to your business, has it? So a good morning to you all. I’m going to call it a night.”

With that, I left the sweet place, hoping wih all my heart that I wouldn’t have to play the hero in a big fistfight.

Nope! Made it out without a scratch.

At home, I carefully counted my winnings.

Eighty-one crowns and some change—a whole handful of it. It was still far less than Shurf had in his pouch before his charming antics got underway, but at least we could live like people again. I looked around. Lonli-Lokli was probably sleeping upstairs, and I decided I could sleep a spell, too. Right here, on the short divan I had already grown so fond of. Too short, to be honest, but I’m a creature of habit. That’s for sure. After thinking about it a while, I wrote a note: “Wake me at noon! No matter what,” and attached it to the wall above my head. We had things to do today.

This time I was shaken violently out of my sleep. Sir Shurf is nothing if not disciplined. And very thoughtful—he had prepared the bottle of Elixir of Kaxar beforehand, so my morning suffering lasted just a few seconds.

“Thanks, Shurf.” I was already able to smile not only at my tormenter, but at the pathologically bright noonday sun.

“I have two pieces of good news. First, we’re rich.”

“Max, I hope you didn’t do anything that—”

“That I wouldn’t risk telling the Police General Boboota Box? No, I just decided to find out what you found so fascinating in the local game of chance. I completely agree with you. It was great!”

“You mean to tell me you played cards with the locals? I never thought you’d turn out to be a cardsharper.”

“A cardsharper? Give me a break! I’m a very honest fellow. Just luckier than they are.”

“How much did you win?”

“Count it,” I said proudly. “You can subtract one crown and some change—that’s what I started out with. I’m going to bathe.”

When I came back to the living room, Lonli-Lokli gazed at me in almost suspicious admiration.

“Your talents truly are inexhaustible,” he declared solemnly.

“Oh, no, they’re limited, believe me. I don’t know how to sing, to fly, or bake Chakkatta Pie. Let’s go get some breakfast, Shurf. Good gracious, it’s nice not to have to count every penny.”

We breakfasted at the Old Table , where we had been the day before. The dyed-in-the-wool conservative who told me to leave well enough alone had gained the upper hand in me. The hospitable tavern-mistress recognized us, which was gratifying in itself. But my appetite was roaming around elsewhere and promised to catch me later. On the other hand, Lonli-Lokli ate for two people. This touched me. I felt like a concerned father and sole breadwinner. A strange feeling.

“What about the second?” Shurf asked suddenly, still chewing his food.

“The second what?” I have to admit, I had clean forgotten.

“This morning you said there were two pieces of good news. That we were rich was the first. What was the second? Or is it—”

“A secret? No, Shurf, this news is especially for you. A bit of work for your capable hands, after which we can split this crazy town in good conscience. You see, a certain Sir Kiba Attsax is wandering around Kettari, if I’m not mistaken about his name.”

“You’re not mistaken.”

“Well, it’s excellent that his name is familiar to you. As I understand it, things in Kettari are just fine and dandy—but the presence of this gentleman changes the picture somewhat.”

“I understand,” Lonli-Lokli said somberly. “Everything in Kettari is just hunky-dory. I’m glad you’re so certain about that.”

“Shurf,” I said gently. “Take my word for it. Things are fine in Kettari. Something very strange did happen here—but it’s most likely a good thing. I like it, I must say. And Juffin will, too, as far as I can foresee. But this gentleman must be stopped dead. His presence may destroy everything. What, did I spoil your appetite, Shurf?”

“No, it has nothing to do with you. You know that the person whose name you just mentioned died quite a long time ago?”

“I know. That seems to make matters even worse.”

“It certainly does. It’s always harder to come to grips with a dead Magician than a living one. What else do you know, Max?”

“That’s all.” I shrugged. “I thought you would know how to find him and all that.”

“Finding him won’t be hard. I’m curious about what you know about Kiba Attsax.”

“Nothing. Only that he’s a dead Magician, and he somehow poses a threat to Kettari. Or intends to. I didn’t quite understand. Oh yes, of course! He’s an ‘unjustly killed Grand Magician.’ Strange way of putting it, isn’t it?”

“Why strange? That’s the way it was. When I killed him I didn’t know how it was done. Moreover, I didn’t realize I was killing him.”

“You killed him?” I finally began to understand. “He wasn’t by any chance the original owner of your gloves?”

“The left one, to be exact. The owner of the right one is one of the junior Magicians of the Order of the Icy Hand. I would have far less trouble with him.”

I was starting to feel very uneasy. “Listen, Shurf, I remember your story very well. But it would never have occurred to me that . . . I suppose it’s not absolutely necessary to deal with this fellow. Let him—”

“You don’t understand, Max,” Lonli-Lokli cut me off gently but firmly. “I’m not afraid of an encounter with him. It’s more like I can’t believe my luck.”

“Your ‘luck’? I don’t understand a thing, I guess.”

“Of course it’s a rare opportunity. To meet Kiba Attsax, not in my sleep, when I’m quite vulnerable, but wide awake, when I can do battle with him. I think you can understand how lucky I am.”

“Judging by the expression on your face, I wouldn’t have thought it,” I murmured.