“That’s how it is, indeed. You know, Max, we’ll have to kill him all the same. To kill him once and for all, I mean. Your mysterious friends, the ones who told you about Kiba Attsax—will they help us?”
“I really don’t know. We can ask, of course. Let’s have something else to drink, Shurf. Your breathing exercises work like a charm, but it’s better to take a comprehensive approach to restoring one’s health, don’t you think?”
“You’re probably right,” said Lonli-Lokli. “I guess I’d like to drink something myself.”
We silently drank some dark, almost black, biting wine. I felt astonishingly good: lightheaded and sad, and no thoughts at all—not one.
I wasn’t in the least worried about what we were going to do next. Deep down, I probably already knew, but—
Shurf gave me a quizzical look.
“Let’s go,” I said. And I stood up resolutely. At that very moment, it became absolutely clear to me where we were going, though I still don’t remember how I arrived at the decision. I felt I was being carried along and I couldn’t resist. I had no strength to do so.
Lonli-Lokli didn’t ask any questions. His trust in me seemed by this time to be unlimited. Maybe that was just as it was supposed to be.
We walked to the city gates. A few days earlier, Shurf hadn’t been able to leave the city, but for some reason I didn’t doubt for a second that now he could. If need be, I’d just say, “the guy’s with me,” and everything would be fine.
This wasn’t necessary, however. We left Kettari as easily as if we were passing beyond the city gates to admire the famous grove of Vaxari trees or other pastoral beauties. We walked down the road, and still my feet didn’t touch the ground. Or maybe they did, I didn’t know. I couldn’t think about that. An extraordinary sense of my own power filled me like warm water to the very top of my head. It seemed that during this outing I really could do anything I liked; but it never entered my head to take advantage of it. I just wanted Shurf to take a ride with me on my favorite cable car, and then—come what may!
“What’s this, Max?” Lonli-Lokli asked in surprise. In front of us was the boarding station for the cable car. In the distance we could see the delicate towers of my city in the mountains, and still further off was the white brick house with a restless parrot-weathervane. I looked at my companion happily.
“Don’t you recognize it? You were here not so long ago.”
“The city in your dreams?”
“The very one. And in your dreams, too . . . Let’s go for a ride.”
The little cabin of the cable car was meant for two, so we fit snugly. Sir Shurf stared, enchanted, now to the left, now to the right. His silence was not so much a sign of aloofness as it was the thrill of ecstasy. I felt as if I had just won the Nobel Prize or in any case, that my “outstanding contributions to mankind” were deemed worthy. The enthusiasms of Sir Lonli-Lokli were not dispensed lightly.
I laughed. It was as if I had been given a certificate that read: “The bearer of this document is immortal, and free to do whatever he wishes, now and forever more.”
“Now,” I said, when I had stopped laughing. “Throw your dead man into this abyss so that he doesn’t prevent us from enjoying the landscape. I think it’s is my favorite way of killing dead Magicians. I highly recommend it.”
A shadow of doubt flickered in Lonli-Lokli’s eyes, but he glanced again at the ghostly landscape that stretched out below us, then nodded and shook his left hand. Kiba Attsax plunged downward. He was-n’t the least surprised. Of course, he knew what I was capable of—the dead know everything. Somehow, I felt that Sir Kiba was not at all opposed to such a strange end to his long, tiring existence that confounded common sense. He disappeared; just disappeared, without reaching the earth. Which, to be honest, wasn’t underneath us, either.
I burst out laughing again, raised my eyes to the sky, and asked, gasping for breath in my merriment, “Did you like it, Maba? Surely you did!”
I liked it, I liked it! Are you happy now? The muffled Silent Speech of Sir Maba Kalox reached me so suddenly I shivered. Only stop this foolish habit of getting in touch with me aloud in public! Can’t you at least try?
I’ll try, I said, shamefaced, this time without opening my mouth.
“Excellent!” said Lonli-Lokli, looking glad and youthful.
Now, however, there was nothing unnatural in his good cheer. He was like the fellow who had walked with me here not long before, when the city in the mountains was still just one of my favorite dreams. Shurf didn’t seem to have paid any attention to my yelps into the emptiness.
“Were you sure?” he asked.
“Yes. Don’t ask me why. I have no idea! But I was absolutely sure that this was how it would be. Look, Shurf, we’re almost there. Yes, take your mitten. I think you can make friends with it again. I shook my left hand and gave Lonli-Lokli back his shining white sharp-nailed glove, which, Magicians be praised, now had only one owner.
The city was glad to see us. There was no doubt about it. The nearly empty streets, occasional friendly passersby, and a warm breeze carried the weak aromas of my favorite memories through the outdoor cafés. There was nothing special about it; but all the same, to me there was no better place in a single other World. Though I would never have considered staying here. I knew it was impossible.
We decided to moor at one of the outdoor cafes. Shurf didn’t like coffee, but he did like the frothy clouds of cream sailing on top of it. So we split our portions two ways, which was tasty, and rather funny. I remember that Lonli-Lokli punctured his spoon—he just looked through it at the sun, and the hole appeared of its own accord. He winked at me, and with this handy implement he scooped up the cloud of whipped cream floating on top of the cup. The tall, fantastically slender girl who was busying herself with our orders gave me a smacking kiss on the cheek. That was unexpected, but altogether pleasant. I just shook my head in wonder. We didn’t say anything to each other, as I recall. I think we just smiled every now and then; but I’m not at all sure.
After long hours of walking from one end of the city to the other, we finally came across the shady English park. My Lady Marilyn was roaming around there somewhere, if the wise Sir Mackie Ainti was to be believed. And who else was there to believe?
“Oh,” I sighed. “I forgot again! I wanted to find out the name of this city. I should have asked someone.”
“Nonsense, Max,” Lonli-Lokli said dismissively. “The important thing is that it exists, your city. What difference does the name make?”
“Come to think of it, none at all; but I’d still like to know, but, there’s no sense wondering about it now.”
And then we returned to Kettari, and I went to sleep. I think I was asleep even before I got home.
In the morning, everything was back to normal—maybe it was all too normal, but I didn’t object. My legs were planted firmly on the ground, and I wasn’t performing any supernatural wonders, except for fishing out a can of Coke from under the rocker. That was hardly a wonder!
It was finally possible to be bored again at breakfast. Lonli-Lokli seemed to be the same reserved and unflappable fellow I was used to, except that there was a trace of almost imperceptible lightness about him, as though all my life I had been acquainted with a slightly ill man who had suddenly recovered.
“I suppose we’ve done everything we had to do in Kettari?” Shurf asked, reaching for the kamra that we had ordered from the neighboring tavern. I was too lazy to drag myself anywhere early in the morning, even for breakfast.