The Stranger's Woes by Max Frei
“Which trace are you after? There are two besides Jiffa’s.”
“Two?” I said. “Okay, show me both of them.”
“Come over here. And why are you wearing boots? Oh, right. You were able to trace me without taking them off.”
I went over to stand by Melamori. I stamped around a bit, trying to pick up some sensation in the soles of my feet. Nothing.
“You’re fooling me, aren’t you?” I said in an injured tone.
Melamori shook her head earnestly. Then I realized I had found the trace—and not just one but both of them at once. My left foot stood on one, and my right one on the other. It was like experiencing a true split personality. I was very much inclined to follow the left trace. The right one was far less attractive to me. My heart told me that it wasn’t wise to follow it, and my heart was rarely wrong.
“Here they are! Both of them. The one on the right of me seems very dangerous, and the left one quite ordinary. We probably want the right one, don’t we?”
“To me they seem equally dangerous,” Melamori said, looking quizzical. “They even resemble each other, though it’s hard to say how.”
Sir Juffin came up and poked me lightly in the side. I moved away. He stood next to me for a moment or two, nodding thoughtfully.
“You’re both right. The traces are very similar. And the right one is much more dangerous. It’s good there are two of you. Max will follow the left trace, and you, my lady, the right one, since you’re wary of it already. The suspects fled from here in an amobiler, I’m assuming. They aren’t so lacking in brains that they’d try to get away on foot. It won’t pose a problem for you to track them down, will it?”
“You know it won’t be a problem. And for Max even less so, since he’s able to find a trace with his shoes on,” Melamori said enviously.
“Good. Go after them, and may the Dark Magicians help you.”
“Let’s go, Max. We’ve wasted enough time as it is. I can’t imagine why,” Melamori said dryly.
“I can tell you why. First, I wanted you to be able to rest a bit more,” Juffin explained. “Second, who do they think they are anyway, making us rush after them hither and thither?”
“Brilliant,” Melamori said. “Now I really do have a sense of my own significance. Thank you, sir.”
Meanwhile, I had started moving along the trace. I crossed the threshold, went outside, and took a few steps down the sidewalk. My amobiler was parked a small distance away, but I felt a strong urge to get into it just where I stood. The urge was so strong that I had no power to resist it.
“Juffin, would it trouble you to drive my buggy over here?” I said politely. “I think I’m going nuts. I just can’t force myself to go over there, Magician’s word.”
“Hmm, that must mean that this is where their amobiler was parked,” Juffin said. “Now I’m sure you won’t have any trouble tracing them. You’ve got it down pat. Here, Max? Is this where you want it?”
I turned around to look. My amobiler stood close by. Sir Juffin was sitting proudly at the levers.
“Just a bit closer,” I said. “A tad.”
“Here’s your tad,” Juffin said. The amobiler inched up even closer.
“Excellent.”
By then I was already itching to get behind the levers. It was like an overwhelming hunger. I shot over to the driver’s seat like a projectile, hardly giving Juffin time to vacate it.
“My whole life I’ve wanted a child like you to sit on my lap,” he said bitingly. “You’re just burning to get in this buggy and drive off, aren’t you?”
“It’s not so much about this buggy. You know, Juffin, it seems the guy whose trace I stepped on also sat behind the levers. I mean, he was the one driving their amobiler, not the other guy. Something is making me . . . Oh, I can’t explain it,” I said, feeling crushed.
“It’s all right. I understand what’s going through your brain,” Juffin said.
He jumped out onto the paving stones. In the meantime, Melamori had settled down in the back seat. I turned to her in surprise, wondering why she didn’t want to sit next to me. Then I understood: the one whose trace Melamori had stepped on had been sitting behind the driver. She intercepted my glance and nodded.
“If these guys really headed for the Magaxon Forest, you’re going to need a guide,” Juffin said. “I sent a call to the forester there, Sir Chvaxta Chiyam. A fine fellow. He knows the forest like the back of his hand, and Jiffa’s lair, too. That’s essential. After the Royal Hunt put an end to the Magaxon Foxes, he wandered through the lairs and passageways for several years, exploring them. I’m willing to bet Chvaxta collected some very useful household utensils during that time, but I have no objections to that. He’ll be around if you need him.”
“Do you really think they’re such fools, sir?” Melamori said. “If I were them I’d flee somewhere beyond Uguland, or even leave the Unified Kingdom altogether.”
“Jiffa can’t survive very far from the vicinity of Uguland. The spells lose some of their power there,” Juffin said. “Everything depends on how much his life is worth to his followers. All right now, get along with you. Keep in touch, hear?”
“You bet we will,” I said. “Want to come with us?”
“I’d love to. Magicians as my witnesses, I’d love to accompany you. But a case has to be closed by the one who started it. With no involvement from outside.”
“That’s true. Absolutely crazy, senseless, and illogical, but true. I understand.”
“Of course you understand,” Juffin said with a sigh, more sad than mocking.
This time I drove even faster than usual, but I found no pleasure in it. I was overwhelmed by a single, anguished, uncontrollable desire: to catch up with the person whose trace I had stood on. Nothing else mattered to me—not the insane speed, or the intoxicating aroma of the flowering trees all around us, or Lady Melamori in the back seat, still and silent, in the grip of the same desire.
After about half an hour, I suddenly felt a sense of immense relief. I braked in astonishment and stared at the absolutely empty road.
“What’s wrong, Max?” Melamori said anxiously.
“I don’t know. I just have the feeling that I’ve arrived. Only where could they be?”
“I see. Your man has died.” She sighed. “It’s no surprise. How was he able to withstand even this much, poor thing?”
“He’s dead?”
“Yes. I wasn’t joking when I said that when you stand on someone’s trace his heart stops beating. It was no mere metaphor, believe me. Okay, let’s trade places. Your man may have died, but mine is still alive and kicking.”
“As you wish. I’m not much good for anything right now,” I said, climbing into the back seat.
Melamori got behind the levers. She had every chance of winning our recent wager. She took off at fifty miles an hour right off the bat—twice as fast as the average Echoer. It was quite an achievement for a beginner.
“I seem to be getting the hang of it, don’t I?” she said. “I’m going a lot faster than usual, don’t you think, Max?”
“You certainly are. You’re doing great, Melamori. The rest is just a matter of time. In the beginning I didn’t drive any faster than you’re driving now, remember?”
“Speed is even better than reaching the end of a trace!” Melamori was ecstatic. “It’s indescribable!”
Then she fell silent and concentrated on the road. I made myself comfortable, lit up a cigarette, and stared out the window. I thought for a moment, then sent a call to Juffin.
My man kicked the bucket, it seems. Now Melamori is our only hope.
Jeepers! Not bad. When you reach the spot where they got out of the amobiler, try to stand on the other trace. Maybe you’ll bury the second one, too. Then Jiffa will be a sitting duck. You’ll be able to catch him with your bare hands.
Okay, I’ll try.
Good, good. Chvaxta Chiyam is already waiting for you at the edge of the Magaxon Forest. The trace
“Melamori, are we still driving toward the Magaxon Forest?” I said.
“What? Yes, that’s where we’re headed,” she said absently.
Correct, I told Juffin.
Fine. Everything is unfolding just as it should. Well, is it over and out yet? Any more questions?
I suppose not. Oh, wait! I wanted to ask you before—whose house was that?
Good question, Max. Our Main Archive produced some completely useless information. The house belongs to the Xitta family. A year ago it was rented out to one Lady Brisse Xlonn. Her papers are fine—like it’s such an important document to forge, a rent contract. The neighbors claim that they almost never see her there. Who is this Lady Brisse Xlonn, anyway? There’s no one in Echo with a name like that. I sent Melifaro to sniff out whatever he could. I’ll let you know if I find out something. Over and out already?
Over and out.
I sighed, and then fell to thinking. Lady Brisse Xlonn. For some reason the name struck me as very unpleasant. But what could she have to do with anything?
An hour later, a tall figure in a dark-red looxi loomed up at the side of the road.
“Sir Chvaxta Chiyam, I presume.” I touched Melamori’s shoulder. “Stop here for a second, will you?”
“You’re killing me, Max,” she grumbled. “Okay, I’ll try.” And our amobiler came to a screeching halt next to the stranger.
“Get in, quick!”
I didn’t have to ask the fellow twice. In a moment he was sitting in the front seat, staring back at me with round, owlish eyes of a nondescript color.
“Sir Chvaxta Chiyam?” I said.
How embarrassing if he were just a random fellow on his way to pick berries in the forest. Though a man with a vacant stare like that (what was he—a vagrant? a killer?) would hardly be out on a berry-picking expedition.
The man nodded and continued to study my face intently. Perhaps he just didn’t know how to blink.
“You weren’t sure who he was?” Melamori snickered. “Come on, Max! You should have found out before inviting him into the amobiler.”
“I have my own methods.”
“Oh, it’s a method.”
Hearing Melamori’s voice, our new passenger turned to face her. It seemed to have just dawned on him that there was someone else in the amobiler besides him and me. Now it was Melamori’s turn to have the strange eyes bore into her.
“Are you familiar with our case?” I tried to start a casual conversation about workaday matters.
The fellow turned to me again and shook his head. “I know that I’m supposed to show you the forest and the underground system of the Magaxon Foxes, if necessary. I’ll show you,” he said blandly.
He fell silent again and began contemplating a spot at about the level of my chest. Sir Chvaxta Chiyam was clearly not burdened with the knowledge of rules of social behavior. Either that, or he simply wasn’t in the habit of following them. I truly envied his nonchalance.
Melamori turned down a narrow, overgrown pathway. Then we had to squeeze our way through some thorny underbrush. As a finale, we crashed unceremoniously into an empty amobiler, which had probably belonged to our victims. The flimsy, lightweight construction fell over on its side, but, praise be the Magicians, we were unhurt. There were a few scratches on the front of the amobiler and on one of my cheeks. I hadn’t lost the opportunity to raze my face on the edge of the open window.
“I’m sorry, Max,” Melamori said, confused and flustered. “I should have braked in time, but—”
“But it’s not always possible,” I said, and managed to smile. “Don’t worry. Such is life.”
The forester crawled out of the amobiler and began walking through the clearing.
“No lairs here,” he said, and sat down on the grass.
“If they’re not here, they’re sure to be somewhere else,” Melamori said.
She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, anxious to press on with the pursuit.
“Juffin suggested I try to stand on the second trace,” I said. “Maybe I’ll send the second guy to meet his maker, too.”
“Who’s Hizmaker?” Melamori said. “Is that a name?”
I smiled. “It’s one of the Dark Magicians. The most powerful one.”
“And you’re personally acquainted with him?” she asked, awed.
“Sort of. But never mind that. Better help me step on the right trace, so I don’t stumble upon Jiffa’s by accident.”
“Jiffa Savanxa?” the forester said, livening up suddenly. “Are you looking for him? I was sure he had died.”
“Of course he died. That’s the problem,” I said.
Sir Chvaxta nodded solemnly, as though everything had now become clear to him. I looked at Melamori.
“So, where is it?”
“Right under my feet. Are you sure you want to try this, Max? You didn’t like this trace at all.”
“Yes, but that’s beside the point when Juffin asked me to do it.”
“What would you do if he asked you to jump off the roof of Rulx Castle?” Melamori said.
“I’d probably try,” I said. “Though I am scared of heights.”
“Me too,” Melamori said. “What a pair of Secret Investigators, Terrors of the Universe, we are! We should be ashamed of ourselves.”
“Would you happen to know where that corpse over there came from?” the forester broke in matter-of-factly.
“What corpse? Where?” Melamori and I jumped up in a mad frenzy.
“That one there.” Chvaxta pointed casually to the overturned amobiler.
“Of course, Max,” Melamori said with relief. “It’s your client. Congratulations!”
“Thanks,” I said. I went closer and found myself staring at the regular facial features of a middle-aged man. “Do you recognize him?”
“No. Ask Sir Juffin. Send him a call. Although what does it matter?”
“What do you mean, ‘What does it matter’? Maybe Juffin knows what Order he’s from and will tell us what to expect from the other one.”
“No one knows what to expect of anyone in critical situations,” Melamori said. “Go ahead and send him a call, though.”
I sent a call to Sir Juffin Hully and described the corpse.
Ah, yes. Of course! He has light hair, doesn’t he? And a large mole on his left eyelid?
I checked and confirmed this.
You have rid the World of Atva Kuraisa, retired Junior Magician of the Order of Grilles and Mirrors. By the way, Melifaro still hasn’t dug up anything about the yellow house. So you beat him.
I never thought it would possible to beat Melifaro at anything. Well, what do you advise?
Try to deal likewise with the second guy.
Do you have any idea who he might be?
Not a clue. Who knows whom Atva might have taken on as his accomplice? Echo is a big city with lots of tourists. First find him, then we’ll know. By the way, did you run into Chvaxta?
Yes. He’s some character.
Yes, that he is. Well, I won’t keep you. Over and out.
It seems that little expression was my lasting contribution to the parlance of the Secret Investigative Force of the Capital of the Unified Kingdom.
“Come here, Max!” Melamori called. “Here’s the sinning trace. Enjoy!”
I went to stand on the spot she indicated.
“Well?” she said.
“Nothing so far. But I’m a slow learner.”
I tried to focus on my own sensations. This time, as before, everything happened very abruptly. I wasn’t feeling anything at all when all of a sudden my legs were carrying me deep into the forest, where the evening gloom was already gathering. My heart was heavy with uneasy forebodings, but I was determined to stifle them, for the time being, at least. I flew like the wind, and Melamori and the forester stayed right at my heels.
Soon, everything seemed to come to a standstill. I didn’t know how to procee
“I should have seen that coming,” Melamori said. “It was completely predictable.”
“Predictable? What was?”
“Jiffa just picked up and carried the one whose trace you were following. The fellow must have been in pretty bad shape. And that’s when you stumbled right onto Jiffa’s trace. But they forgot one thing: I can follow Jiffa’s trace. And if that wasn’t enough, I’m starting to get mad.”
“Really? Way to go,” I said and got up off the grass, rubbing the backs of my knees. It was already the second time that day they had suffered a blow like that.
“It gets dark early in the forest at this time of year,” the forester said with studied indifference, the way people remark about the weather in polite society. “Night will be falling soon. If that’s important to you, you should hurry.”
“It’s not important, but we still have to hurry,” Melamori said. “But where is that sinning trace?”
She stared sullenly at the path, stepped on it, then pressed forward at a quick pace. The forester and I followed right behind. I could hardly believe my eyes. Only this morning it had been painful to see how Melamori suffered from standing on the dead Jiffa’s trace. Now, not only did she stoically endure it, she seemed to glow with an inner radiance that stemmed from both anger and joy.
“Are you already able to cope with him so easily?” I said.
“I don’t know. But when I’m good and mad, it always seems to help. I think perhaps he’s just grown weaker, Max. Much weaker. Send Juffin a call, all right? He should know.”
“Is there anything he shouldn’t know?”
I sent a call to our boss and told him the news.
Good job!
Sir Juffin loves praising his flock.
I think I can guess why it has become so easy for Melamori to follow Jiffa’s trace, Juffin continued. Do you know when he was killed?