Макс Фрай - The Stranger

“Absolutely! Shall we go now, or after we eat?”

“However we can, without being noticed.”

“Why?” Melifaro asked in surprise. “Do you think anyone would dare try to stop us?”

“No. But all the same, I don’t want anyone to see us. We Borderlanders are so shy and inscrutable.”

“Yes, especially when you’ve had a drop too much of Elixir of Kaxar. Well, if you don’t want anyone to notice us, so be it. How do you suggest we pull it off?”

“For a start, we tactfully send a call to that booth, to find out whether anyone is there. If there is, we’ll just have to wait while they split their sides laughing. If not, we’ll have to hurry before someone comes. Shall we?”

“I’m only doing it for your sake. Yes, there’s one fellow in there. A very sleepy one! He didn’t notice a thing. He didn’t even twitch.”

“Well, we’re in luck. That means we’ll have time to eat.”

“I hope so. I was already starving when we were in the Archive, if you’ll remember. Then what will we do?”

“Nothing much. We’ll wait till that gloomy damsel returns to the kitchen. Then we’ll just slip into the booth and find out how it smells.”

“Smells? Do you think—”

“I don’t think anything. We’ll just have to wait and see. But I smell a rat.”

“A rat? What’s a rat, Max? Is it some delicacy from the Barren Lands and you recognize he smell?”

I was already weary of idiomatic misunderstandings, so I didn’t say anything.

The gloomy old lady, who entered bearing two trays in her muscular hands, distracted us from the talk of rats that so confounded my colleague. Then we attacked the food with gusto. ‘Crystal clarity of taste’ was a very apt description. Even I was able to appreciate it.

“Try to exercise a bit of restraint,” I suggested to Melifaro. “Don’t eat everything at once. Leave a bit on your plate.”

“Why should I? Oh, I understand. You mean we might have to hang around here a while. Don’t worry. The sleepyhead’s on his way out, I’m keeping track of him.”

“Ah! Well, don’t hold back, then. Dig in. I grant you permission.”

“Thank you,” Melifaro mumbled, his mouth full of food. When we both had nearly cleaned our plates, he said, “I think we can venture out now . . . no, wait a second. He’s still standing in the hall.” He paused. “Perfect. I needed to finish chewing that last morsel. Come on, Max. The moment has arrived. The old shrew isn’t anywhere in sight.”

We slipped out, and in a matter of seconds we were inside the booth, which the magnificent General Boboota had lately graced with his world-renowned presence.

“Sinning Magicians! That smell!” Melifaro whispered in alarm. “The smell was coming from here. The sleepyhead was feasting on King Banjee, or whatever the dish is called. They’ve already cleared away the dishes, but it smells just like the kitchen!”

“Not ‘like’ the kitchen. It’s coming from the kitchen.”

“No, Max. The kitchen is to the left of the entrance. Didn’t you see where the hunchback went with our order?”

“That means there are two kitchens,” I murmured. “Think about it. The smell is very powerful just here. And it’s the only smell around. Why don’t you tell me something else, Sir Ninth Volume—can your limitless wisdom lead us to find a door that a blockhead like me would have to look for until tomorrow morning?”

“A secret door? Good thinking, Max. Let me look.”

Melifaro closed his eyes. He shuffled around the room uncertainly. I froze, expecting the loud crash of overturned furniture.

It didn’t come. He carefully skirted a chair standing in his path, then continued to inch forward. By the far wall, he stopped, and got down on all fours. Then he went on with his search.

“Here it is!” Melifaro looked up at me, beaming. “Come here, Max. I’ve got something to show you.”

I shuddered. His half-closed eyelids shone with pale green phosphorescence in the murky semidarkness.

“Look!”

“Well? It’s just a regular floor. Ah, I see. It’s warm!” I discovered that one spot on the floor was almost hot to the touch.

“Warm!” Melifaro huffed. “Well, you could have found the blasted door yourself, then!”

“It would have taken me hours to find it, crawling around on my hands and knees. Your way is much better.”

I couldn’t admit that I still had no clue about my own abilities in this area.

“Do you want me to open it for you, too?” Melifaro inquired spitefully.

“It’s in your own best interests. Didn’t Juffin ever tell you how I once tried to open a box containing the Royal Gift?”

“He told us. He gathered us all together and said, ‘People! If you want to stay alive, don’t allow Sir Max to open cans of preserves in your presence!’ We were terribly frightened, and there was much wailing and gnashing of teeth.”

“‘Preserves’? Is that what you said, ‘preserves’?”

For some reason it struck me as very funny that there were also preserves in Echo. Well, where would I have seen them? I almost always ate in restaurants, or was invited to someone’s home as a guest.

“Are you hungry again already?” Melifaro asked in surprise, moving the floorboards aside with a careless gesture.

We stared into the darkness, from which a cloud of delicious odors wafted toward us.

“Let’s go,” I said. “Though we’ll look like a pair of fools if it turns out just to be a side entrance to the main kitchen.”

“Right, disguised like the secret passage into the garden of the Order of the Seven-Leaf Clover? Not likely, Max.”

We descended a narrow ladder. Melifaro replaced the false floor behind us, and we found ourselves in utter darkness.

“You don’t have a problem finding your way in the dark, I hope?” I asked.

“Do you?”

“I think I do. I don’t know. In any case, I can’t see a thing.”

“Fine, I’ll guide you. Some Child of the Night you are.”

Hand in hand we groped our way toward the divine aroma that grew stronger with every step. Gradually I discovered that I instinctively knew where to turn so as not to bump my forehead against a wall, and where to raise my foot a bit higher to step over an invisible, but hard impediment in our path.

“Are you joking at my expense?” Melifaro asked, trying to withdraw his paw from mine. “You sure don’t miss any opportunity to make me look like an idiot.”

“My whole life I’ve dreamed of holding hands with you, and now I’ve found a pretext. Don’t be so touchy. I’m absolutely serious. I don’t know whether I can find my way around in the dark or not. I never know anything for sure about myself beforehand.

“You are a lucky fellow, after all. What an interesting life you have. Here we are. We still need some light, though. You are a smoker, I recall.”

“To the degree that I can tolerate the rubbish that passes for tobacco around here. I do have matches, though, don’t worry.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be enough light. You’ll have to smoke your pipe. It’s the only light-bearing apparatus we have that gives off a steady glow.”

“Are you trying to hasten my demise? Well, so be it.”

I quickly filled my pipe. The idea was brilliant. I had only to draw on the pipe, and the dim reddish glow dispelled the darkness around us. We we were standing on the threshold of a small storeroom, stuffed to the brim with huge, oddly shaped cupboards. Strange furniture. I had seen things like this a number of times at home, but never here in Echo, where the spare, elegant objects that functioned as domestic furnishings looked more like works of art.

Since the capacity of my lungs was limited, we were once more plunged in darkness.