The Stranger's Woes (71 page)

“You’re probably thinking of erecting a monument to yourself,” said Melifaro. “It’s high time you did.”

“All right,” I said. “Kofa, your tavern-hopping will have to wait, I’m afraid. Step into my office. There’s something I want to discuss with you.”

“Here’s what I think,” I said. “As I see it, we don’t need to destroy our visitors from the next world. What we don’t want is that those nimble fellows start roaming the streets, right?”

“Right,” said Kofa. “I thought that was obvious.”

“I know, I know,” I said. “That was just a prelude. Now, listen to me very carefully. I think we can turn our pesky friends into statues. Pour molten metal or something like that over them. Some craftsman will know what would work best. Then we can leave them alone until Shurf can incinerate them for good.”

“Brilliant!” said Melifaro, laughing. “But why incinerate them? It’s conceptual art! The sculptures will be an excellent embellishment on the Left Bank. Better yet, let’s auction them off.”

“Wait, stop laughing for a second, Ninth Volume,” I said. “Let me talk to a reasonable person. Kofa, what do you think? Can this be done?”

“We should try it, at any rate. It’s a wild idea, but—a hole in the heavens above you, Max—why not give it a shot? We’ll be needing professional advice, though.”

For the next several hours I felt like a true boss. My subordinates ran around Echo’s shops and studios recruiting volunteers. They even got Sir Lookfi, whose responsibilities normally fell within the vaults of the Main Archive, on board. I was loafing around in the office. Sir Kofa thought that my Mantle of Death would not necessarily further mutual understanding between the sculptors and us.

There was, however, one task I could manage. Melamori left the hoob with me. His appearance could also throw off our volunteer helpers. For the first two hours Leleo missed Melamori and wouldn’t eat the crumbs that I offered him. Then hunger got the better of him. He gobbled down his treat and purred softly. This small achievement made me very happy.

I listened to his sweet purr, thinking of our upcoming deliverance. Yet thoughts about holy water were still wandering through my poor, crazy head. The problem was that there was no way to get hold of holy water in the Unified Kingdom: there were no churches, no priests, no religious superstitions.

If my plan with sculptures doesn’t work, I’m going to have to fumble around in the Chink between Worlds, I thought. Who knows, maybe I’d be able to fetch a crucifix or something like that. Or should I run home real quick? There is a lot of that paraphernalia there. After all, I didn’t learn to travel between Worlds for nothing. I wasted a whole year on that trip. There must be some good that I can do for society with all my training in True Magic, after all.

These thoughts seemed like innocent fantasies, inconsequential plans that would never materialize. But I derived a great deal of pleasure from such musings.

“Max, I’m back.” Melamori was standing in the doorway. “How’s my Leleo doing? Has he missed me?”

“No, he hasn’t. He’s been with me. I fed him, too.”

“Aw, you traitor, you,” said Melamori, laughing. “I thought he only took food from my hands.”

“He also thought so at first. But then he realized that hoobs can be wrong. Well, did you manage to recruit anybody?”

“Of course I did. I brought you all the apprentices of Mr. Yuxra Yukkori. Yuxra said he’d come, too, when he finishes some work he’s doing. But trust me, this is not going to happen for another dozen years. Mr. Yuxra Yukkori is the most leisurely person in the Universe. Once he did some work for my father. For six months he kept telling Korva that it wasn’t going to work—that’s Yuxra’s favorite way of getting started on a job. Then he worked for two years and fashioned something that was all wrong. But Father liked it so much he agreed to take the piece anyway. Then Mr. Yuxra Yukkori said that he was so proud of his work that he didn’t want to sell it. Long story short, my father paid three times the amount they had originally agreed on, and became the happy owner of a sculpture that didn’t fit inside the house. Yuxra Yukkori hadn’t bothered to stick to the original dimensions, either.”

“A true artist,” I said. “That’s the way to go, I say. You know, Melamori, perhaps it’s for the best that Mr. Yuxra Yukkori is busy. We have a lot of problems already. I hope his apprentices are more sane.”

“You bet they are. He’s really cruel with them. You know, I think geniuses make the biggest tyrants.”

“You’re right about that,” I said. “Okay, you can take your hoob and go home. I’m sure you’re about to collapse.”

“Well, not quite. But I’d be happy to go home and lie down, read a book, and eat ice cream. But if you go back to that cemetery again, who’s going to stay in the House by the Bridge? Kurush?”

“I haven’t decided yet. Either Kurush or Melifaro. I’ll see about that.”

“I’m so glad I don’t have to drag myself to the cemetery,” Melamori said. “I hate dead bodies. The ones from the Magaxon Forrest at least bore some resemblance to people.”

“They did,” I said. “I think your hatred toward the dead is hereditary. Kofa told me that the dead are particularly loathsome to your relatives in the Seven-Leaf Clover.”

“That’s true.”

Melamori sat Leleo gently on her shoulder and left. I felt like a kind uncle.

Half an hour later, Sir Kofa and Melifaro returned in the company of a team of Echo’s finest sculptors. Lookfi Pence sent me a call, boasting proudly that he had managed to send a few “true masters” to the House by the Bridge. You might have thought I was going to order them to cast my own bust in bronze. After his report, Lookfi asked me if he could go home. Of course I let him go. He had already worked overtime, which, according to Sir Kofa, hadn’t happened in more than seventy years. We had enough people already: the sculptors were crowding the reception room.

“I think I should treat them to dinner at the Ministry’s expense,” I said. “What will Sir Dondi Melixis say? I’m emptying the Treasury much more rapidly than Juffin does. The sculptors’ fees alone are going to be astronomical.”

“He will say, ‘Thank you very much, Sir Max,’” said Kofa. “And you know why? Because he lives on the Left Bank, just a few minutes’ walk from the Green Petta Cemetery. In a sense, we are guarding our Dondi’s well-being.”

Sadly, our volunteers didn’t have time to dine at our expense. Lieutenant Apurra Blookey sent me a call: it was happening again.

“The Treasury has been saved, huh?” said Melifaro.

“Yes,” I said. “Which was to be expected, at the rate these guys are regenerating.”

Again we went to the Green Petta Cemetery. Boy, was I sick of that route. A cavalcade of official amobilers of the Ministry of Perfect Public Order followed us. We had just enough vehicles to fit in all the sculptors, along with the materials and tools of their trade.

“Stay with them,” I said to Melifaro. “What a way to pass the time—hanging out behind the cemetery gate while we’re dealing with the undead. I’ll call you when Kofa and I have finished. Cheer them up while you’re waiting. You’re good at that.”

“I
used
to be good at it,” said Melifaro with a sigh. “I haven’t been myself lately.”

Kofa and I got down to work. A few minutes later it was finished, and I sent a call to Melifaro. He came with the group of sculptors. To my delight, they looked curious rather than scared.

“It seems we
have
been reduced to driving in nails with a microscope after all,” I said. “Never saw it coming. All right, gentlemen, it’s showtime. May the Dark Magicians be with you.”

“We can’t manage here without them, that’s for certain,” said Kofa, sitting down on a gravestone beside me.