The Stranger's Magic: The Labyrinths of Echo: Book Three

by Max Frei

  “You bet it is. It’s the only Refuge for the Mad in the Capital. The others are all in distant provinces,” said Juffin. “Maybe even this one will move soon. Some respected wisemen believe that staying in the Heart of the World thwarts the healing of mental patients. Now those who’ve decided to sneak through Xumgat, on the other hand, need all the power of the Heart of the World they can get. I doubt that they’d want to go all the way to somewhere in Uryuland. If our Rider really gains his power from the mentally ill, his victims should be here somewhere.”

  We entered the first room. The soft part of the floor, which served as a bed, took up almost all the available space. At the farther end of the room, someone was breathing heavily under a pile of blankets.

  “Okay, this lady is definitely of no interest to us,” said Juffin. “Her poor spirit is wandering Magicians know where, and it has never descended to Xumgat. Of that, I am certain. Let’s move on.”

  “How did you know it was a lady?” I said, carefully closing the door behind me.

  “It was a lady—a beautiful one, too. Wait a second, why are you so surprised? I understand that at your age all women seem like mysterious and wonderful creatures, but did you think they never went mad?”

  “Of course I know they do. And how,” I said. “So we’re in the women’s ward?”

  “You’re talking nonsense again. Why would anyone build special wards for men and women? This is a hospital, not a Quarter of Trysts. Another tradition of that homeland of yours?”

  “Indeed,” I said, blushing. “In our hospitals, women and men are kept separately.”

  “Are the inhabitants of your world so unrestrained in their passion that they are eager to jump on one another at any opportunity?” said Juffin, surprised. “Even the crippled, the lame, and the sick? I just can’t wrap my mind around this. Strange that your behavior is fairly decent. I’m sure you could easily pass for a basket case and end up in one of your horrible and well-guarded Refuges for the Mad back home.”

  “Spot on, Juffin,” I said. “But I deceived them by keeping a low profile.”

  “Okay, we’ll have plenty of time to discuss your ruined youth later,” said Juffin. “Now we have pressing business at hand.”

  We inspected several more bedrooms.

  “No, not this one,” Juffin would say, and we would move along. We had covered well over half of the hallway when I felt an unpleasant sensation at the threshold of one of the rooms.

  Nothing out of the ordinary happened. I just sensed that the person who was sighing deeply underneath a blanket, several paces from where I was standing, felt very cold and lonely. I was all too familiar with that piercing, ice-cold, absolute loneliness—the loneliness without self, without the slightest chance of understanding what was happening to you, without the hope of ever coming back. I had once felt something similar when I fell asleep in the amobiler in the Magaxon Forest and found myself in the Corridor between Worlds. Boy, was I scared then!

  “Even if I didn’t know anything about such matters, I could easily use your face as an indicator,” said Juffin. “It’s as crooked as it can be. Looks like we’ve found what we were looking for, unless the disconcerted spirit of this poor fellow slides back and forth along Xumgat in complete solitude.”

  “You’re definitely on a roll today,” I said, letting out a nervous laugh. “I don’t remember you ever using such turns of phrase before.”

  “Indeed. As I said before, the premises dispose one to it,” said Juffin, sitting down on the floor. “Pay attention now, and don’t distract me. I’m going to ask the poor fellow to tell us his story, so to speak. You sit down beside me and try to tune in. Do what you’d normally do, as if this weren’t a person but a regular box or, I don’t know, a broom. You use the same principles when working with people; it’s just more difficult to establish the connection. Unlike inanimate objects, a person is reticent by nature—any person, mind you, not just a madman.”

  I sat down next to Juffin and leaned against the wall. The wall was soft and elastic. In this respect, the bedrooms in the Refuge for the Mad on the outskirts of Echo were similar to regular rooms for the violently insane in my “historical homeland.”

  Then I stared at the shapeless dark hump at the edge of the bed. Our subject seemed to me to be a frail creature. His blanket was pulled over his head. I understood, however, that it didn’t really matter. He could just as well be hiding from an X-ray machine under that blanket.

  For a few moments, I didn’t sense anything special. I just sat on the floor and stared at the sleeping lunatic. If I were interrogating his blanket, I already would have gotten all the information I needed. Then I felt something like a jolt from within. It felt similar to the way your heart pushes against your ribs when a truck turns from around the corner and heads right toward your car.

  Following the jolt came a steady stream of mixed visions that seemed to lack any plot or narration. These bright pictures, however, were pitiful inkblots in comparison with the overwhelming loneliness of the creature lost in the Corridor between Worlds, or “sliding back and forth along Xumgat,” as Juffin had put it—though this wording sent shivers down my spine.

  Juffin shook my shoulder.

  “Hey, come back, Max. We’ve got to hurry. I already found out everything I needed to know. You also felt something at the end, didn’t you?”

  “I think so.”

  I shook my head to pull myself together: some part of me was still wandering in that mysterious place—a significant part of me, I should say. My existence without it was hardly complete. Shaking my head didn’t help much, so I had to resort to slapping my face. I did it from the bottom of my heart; it even came with a complimentary ringing in the ears.

  “Need a hand?” said Juffin.

  “Thanks, I think I can manage on my own. What I really need is five minutes and a bucket of cold water.”

  “Done. This little door leads to the bathroom. But I can’t give you more than two minutes. We need to hurry.”

  I went to the bathroom, took off my turban, and stuck my head under the spigot. The water temperature was ideal: not quite so freezing as to give me another cold, but cool enough to wash off the residue of that poor person’s emotions. Juffin stood in the doorway contemplating my suffering with apparent curiosity.

  “I’ve learned some amazing things, Max. I’m sure you’ve also learned them, but you don’t have the experience yet to translate them into a language you understand.”

  “To transmogrify,” I said. I thought the word was very appropriate in this context.

  “Another strange word . . . Anyway, we can find more victims of our mysterious Rider in this Refuge for the Mad. A lot more. Many more than I suspected. But let’s not waste time: the culprit of this whole ordeal is also in this Refuge. In fact, he has been here for a long, long time. He has kept this last fellow we’ve interrogated in captivity for eighty years, right from the moment the guy arrived here. I’ve got to hand it to him, though: the old man is a master of disguise. And who in his right mind—pun definitely intended—would search for the most powerful of the Senior Magicians of the Order of the Staff in the Sand in a Refuge for the Mad? Even I wouldn’t think of it. Even I!”

  “So, I take it you two know each other,” I said, grabbing a towel.

  “And how! Magician Gugimagon and I go way back. Back in the Epoch of Orders, he stuck to me like a wet raincoat, hoping that I’d break down and agree to teach him the secret of Invisible Magic. As if it were up to me. The guy had no talent for those things. It was written on his forehead in letters this big.”

  Juffin stretched his arms like a fisherman boasting to the world of his latest whopper. It seemed as though it was important that I learn, once and for all, how big the letters had been.

  “Some friends you’ve got, Juffin,” I said. “Did that poor fellow tell you which room we could find your old buddy in, by any chance?”

  “No, he doesn’t know. They’ve never met in reality. O
r did you think Gugimagon was the sort to drop by for a cup of kamra?”

  “I know nothing about the customs of you evil sorcerers,” I said.

  “Okay, let’s go then, Mr. ‘Good Guy’ Magic,” said Juffin, laughing. “I know you’re back in business, so quit your feigning. Great deeds await us. A heart-to-heart talk with Sir Slobat Katshak, for instance.”

  The boss moved from words to action and gave me a light push in the butt with his knee. He really got carried away.

  We went out to the porch and sat down on the stairs next to the wiseman, who had begun to get bored.

  “Have you found what you were looking for?” he said.

  “Some of it,” said Juffin. “Now it’s your turn to help us.”

  “With great pleasure,” said Katshak, smiling as though Juffin were about to treat him to some candy.

  “We must locate one of your patients here as soon as possible,” said Juffin, and fell silent, looking for the right words. “You shouldn’t feel any pangs of conscience about it: the man we’re looking for isn’t really mad. He’s just a very talented malingerer. The best malingerer I know. Okay, that takes care of that. Moving right along . . . First, he’s been here for quite a while, at least eighty years, but he arrived before the Code Epoch. Last time I saw him was shortly before the Code of Krember was established. Three days before that, to be precise. Second, he’s a fairly old man. He’s always looked older than me, for as long as I’ve known him. Very tall, big but not obese. He could have easily changed his appearance but not his stature. Also, he’s blind in his left eye.”

  “Oh, but this is old Kotto Halis you’re talking about!” said the wiseman. “We only have one patient who’s blind in his left eye. But he couldn’t have done anything. If only I could tell you how strong the smell of his madness is! Besides, the old man has never regained consciousness, no matter how many Crystals of Memory we give him.”

  “Yes, just as I suspected. In a ‘conscious state,’ he’d have nothing whatsoever to do here. Take us to him. The sooner the better.”

  “Let’s go then.” Katshak stood up. He looked stunned. “His room is in the building next to this, among the same poor hopeless cases you’ve just seen.”

  Moments later, we were going up the stairs of another one-story building. Sir Juffin Hully had gained such speed that the wiseman and I were clear outsiders in the race. I took it the boss was rushing to give his old friend a bear hug.

  This time, Sir Slobat Katshak entered the building with us and walked us to the farthest room in the right wing of the hallway. Juffin stormed into the dark chamber and froze so abruptly that I crashed into his back at a fast clip. The boss withstood the shock and didn’t move an inch.

  “Blast it,” he said. “I knew it.”

  “Knew what?” I said. And then I saw it. The bed was empty. On its soft surface, dead center, was a single dent. The shape of the dent suggested that the occupant had lain there completely still and then disappeared. Vanished. If he had gotten up from it in the usual manner, there would have been other dents. The material used for floor coverings in bedrooms here in Echo readily takes the shape of the body but is reluctant to return to its original shape. That takes some time—at least a few hours.

  “So he did it!” said Juffin, his voice betraying sincere admiration. “He slipped into Xumgat completely—lock, stock, and barrel—and it’s not easy for people like him. Slobat, my dear boy, I have bad news for you. You should immediately check how many new dead bodies you have in your Refuge. If I had to guess, I’d say it would be at least a dozen. For his last journey, Gugimagon would have to grab all their strength, without leaving anything to them. Still, I’m surprised he’s managed to pull this off!”

  “If you say so, I must immediately begin the inspection,” said the wiseman. “Will you manage without me, gentlemen?”

  “Yes. Moreover, we’re leaving. Thank you for your help, Slobat. If someone dares berate you for all the trouble that happened during your shift, please do not hesitate to send me a call. I will be more than willing to give your superiors a lengthy lecture that will undoubtedly restore your reputation. After all, it wasn’t you whom sly Gugimagon tricked into thinking he was a madman. But I hope you won’t be needing my protection.”

  “To Magicians with my reputation,” said Sir Slobat, sighing. “But I’d give a lot to have stayed home tonight. I hate it when terminal patients die under my care. I feel so sorry for them. I can’t help them anyway, so I’d rather I didn’t have to see them go. It’s nights like this when I consider trying to find another occupation.”

  “Indeed. This night has left a lot to be desired,” said Juffin.

  We went out into the garden and headed toward the gate.

  “Do you think your friend killed everyone he traveled through the Corridor between Worlds with?” I said. “What about our Sir Shurf? A hole in the heavens above him, we can’t even send him a call while he’s in that detention cell of yours!”

  “Shurf is doing just fine, trust me. He’s not going to sleep, and Gugimagon is never going to be able to grab the strength of a person who’s awake. I don’t think anyone can do that. Besides, I left Sir Shurf a good weapon.”

  “What is it?” I said. “Or is that a secret?”

  “Not much of a secret, really. But it’s best not to speak of it before it has done what it’s supposed to do. You see, words can sometimes kill one’s powers. Just try to be patient a little while longer. I’ll tell you everything after I’ve made sure that Shurf doesn’t need my protection anymore.”

  “And that’s why you sent me to fetch the books, so I wouldn’t bother you with my questions, right?”

  “No, I was afraid you’d sell all of my secrets to the Royal Voice sooner or later,” said Juffin. “Especially now, when you and Rogro sing in unison on account of your quarrels with that old grumbler Moxi.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. Speaking of which, I haven’t been to the Juffin’s Dozen in a long while. I keep getting distracted with this or that. What a life I lead!”

  “Don’t fret,” said the boss, sitting next to me in the amobiler. “You’ll have time to catch up on everything soon.”

  I took hold of the lever and finally decided to ask what was really on my mind. “What are we going to do now? We can’t just leave it as is, or can we?”

  “Of course not. Now, Sir Max, you and I will have to go to Xumgat and look for the shelter of my old friend there.”

  “He’s probably gone to the World that Shurf and I keep dreaming about. The one with the barren sandy beaches,” I said.

  “What makes you think so?” said Juffin.

  “I have no idea. Except that I don’t ‘think’ so; I know so.”

  “Excellent,” said Juffin, nodding. “We’ll look for him there then. First thing tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” I said. “Why not now?”

  “What’s with the hurry?” said Juffin, shaking his head in disapproval. “What we really should do now is call Sir Kofa, sit him down in your armchair, and then go hit the sack. Besides, you have a crown fitting tomorrow, remember? It would be a shame if you got lost in Xumgat and missed your own coronation.”

  “No, it wouldn’t,” I said.

  “Sure it would. His Majesty King Gurig has put so much effort into preparing everything for the event. He even has summoned big shot VIPs from all corners of the Unified Kingdom. If you and I just disappeared, the king wouldn’t understand, his respect for our mysterious work notwithstanding. After the ceremony, though, we can disappear for a dozen years at a time—he won’t even notice.”

  “Won’t even notice? Right.”

  “Okay, I’m exaggerating. But even if we wander through a few of those sinning Worlds for a few years, no more than a dozen hours will have passed here. I’ll make sure of it.”

  “Will you?” I said. “Will you teach me how to do that? It seems like such a useful thing to be able to do. Anyway, now I really don’t understand why we can’t sta
rt chasing your ingenious friend right away.”

  “Because it’s a rather risky undertaking, Max. I personally cannot guarantee that nothing bad is going to happen to us. And before you set out for a dangerous journey, you must finish all your business at home, if fate is kind enough to grant you time to do so. If you go out wearing several looxis and their folds are dangling all around you, passersby will step on them, and sooner or later you’ll fall on the sidewalk. The first thing to do is to get rid of all the unnecessary stuff, or at least to pull up the dangling folds. Got it?”

  “Got it.”

  “So nice of you to pretend you understand what I’m saying,” said the boss. “I’m not quite in the lecturing mood right now.”

  Despite my boundless trust in Sir Juffin Hully, who assured me that Lonli-Lokli was going to be fine, I remained uneasy until I could see it for myself.

  Juffin humored me by opening the Secret Door to the cell. Shurf was sitting on the floor, his legs crossed, his spine perfectly straight, his gaze fixed on the pages of The Pendulum of Immortality. He wasn’t too enthusiastic about seeing us. He recovered quickly, though, and even expressed a readiness to have a cup of kamra in our company.

  Then Shurf returned to his ivory tower, trusty Kimpa came to pick up Juffin, and Sir Kofa Yox sent me a call, saying he would come to the House by the Bridge in a few minutes.

  It wasn’t necessary for me to wait for Kofa and I could have gone home right away if I had wanted to. The idea didn’t really appeal to me, however: I had just tried to send a call to Tekki and found out she was fast asleep. I, on the other hand, was wide awake. Maybe later, when it was almost morning, I would be able to close my eyes and catch a few winks, but not now.

  My recent skirmish with Lonli-Lokli had done more damage to me than I had previously thought while I still had my favorite sedative, in the form of the omnipotent Sir Juffin Hully, by my side. I had to admit that I was only eager to go look for that wicked genius Gugimagon because it was not a bad way of distracting myself from my personal problems and anxieties.