none.
“I see. Are you certain it was him?”
“If there’s anything I’ve ever been really certain about, it’s that it was him when we left the Vampire’s Dinner. And it was him sitting next to me in the front
seat of the amobiler. And then the person sitting next to me in the amobiler tried to kill me. Logic suggests that it was Shurf who tried to kill me. There was no one else there. Yet I refuse to
accept this kind of logic,” I said, sinking into my armchair.
“So do I,” said Juffin. “All the more since this is not the only kind of logic known to me. Just the most primitive. I’m afraid that the fellow is in even deeper trouble
than you are, if being in deeper trouble is even possible.”
“It is,” I said, shuddering at the thought of what might have happened to my friend. “After all, I’m still alive, as far as I can tell. I’m even sitting here
talking to you. I wish Shurf could say the same about himself.”
Juffin nodded a slow, thoughtful nod and stared somewhere behind me with a motionless gaze.
“I have good news,” he said suddenly. “Sir Shurf can say the same about himself—or, more precisely, will be able to very soon. He just sent me a call and will join us in
a few minutes.”
My body tensed up in an unnatural way, and then I felt the already familiar sensation of supernatural lightness. I had to exert an enormous amount of effort not to float up toward the ceiling.
The only thing that stopped me was the fear of piercing the roof of the House by the Bridge with my tender head.
Juffin contemplated my inner struggle with visible pleasure. “Come on, Max. Everything is all right,” he said. “It is Sir Shurf Lonli-Lokli and not some crazed channeler. And
do you really think I couldn’t put a stop to anything untoward that might happen in my presence?”
“Sure you can. Maybe. It’s just that it’s a bit too much for me.”
“Oh, shush. Stop your whining,” said Juffin. “‘Too much for me.’ You’d be surprised if I told you how many surprises you could gobble down before you have the
right to wince.”
“Oh, yeah?” I said. “Okay, you know best. I have a business proposal for you, though. First you treat me to a big cup of kamra and offer me one free psychoanalysis session.
Then you can present me a ceremonial dessert spoon.”
“A dessert spoon? What are you talking about, Max?” said Juffin.
I swear he was ready to take his words back. He probably thought he had overestimated the strength of my poor mind.
“You thought I’d agree to ‘gobble down’ your surprises with my bare hands?” I said. “Please, Juffin, I do have some dignity. Ask your butler.”
The joke was below average, but Sir Juffin laughed so loud that the windows trembled. I think he was just glad that I had recovered so quickly. I was pretty glad about it myself: marvelous are
thy deeds.
Boomshakalaka.
The courier came in and placed a tray with kamra on the desk. Juffin stuck the huge mug right under my nose. “Now, in return, you’re going to tell me everything that happened to you.
Be clear, concise, and take it from the top please. Can you manage that?”
“I think I can.” And I began telling Juffin about the dreams Shurf and I were having. It was the confession that, as it had turned out, I should have hurried to make from the very
start.
I made another amazing discovery, perhaps the most amazing discovery of the entire crazy evening: I could recount my thoughts in a coherent and concise manner if I really wanted to. By the time
I finished my improvised lecture on the mysteries of dreams, the kamra in my cup was still hot, and I didn’t even need to put it on the burner.
“Quite a story,” said Juffin. “Especially the ending. Just like in the good old days. No, I take that back: it’s even too much for the Epoch of Orders. I wonder how many
lucky stars were shining on you when you were born?”
The door opened and slammed shut. I shivered.
“I see. Are you certain it was him?”
“If there’s anything I’ve ever been really certain about, it’s that it was him when we left the Vampire’s Dinner. And it was him sitting next to me in the front
seat of the amobiler. And then the person sitting next to me in the amobiler tried to kill me. Logic suggests that it was Shurf who tried to kill me. There was no one else there. Yet I refuse to
accept this kind of logic,” I said, sinking into my armchair.
“So do I,” said Juffin. “All the more since this is not the only kind of logic known to me. Just the most primitive. I’m afraid that the fellow is in even deeper trouble
than you are, if being in deeper trouble is even possible.”
“It is,” I said, shuddering at the thought of what might have happened to my friend. “After all, I’m still alive, as far as I can tell. I’m even sitting here
talking to you. I wish Shurf could say the same about himself.”
Juffin nodded a slow, thoughtful nod and stared somewhere behind me with a motionless gaze.
“I have good news,” he said suddenly. “Sir Shurf can say the same about himself—or, more precisely, will be able to very soon. He just sent me a call and will join us in
a few minutes.”
My body tensed up in an unnatural way, and then I felt the already familiar sensation of supernatural lightness. I had to exert an enormous amount of effort not to float up toward the ceiling.
The only thing that stopped me was the fear of piercing the roof of the House by the Bridge with my tender head.
Juffin contemplated my inner struggle with visible pleasure. “Come on, Max. Everything is all right,” he said. “It is Sir Shurf Lonli-Lokli and not some crazed channeler. And
do you really think I couldn’t put a stop to anything untoward that might happen in my presence?”
“Sure you can. Maybe. It’s just that it’s a bit too much for me.”
“Oh, shush. Stop your whining,” said Juffin. “‘Too much for me.’ You’d be surprised if I told you how many surprises you could gobble down before you have the
right to wince.”
“Oh, yeah?” I said. “Okay, you know best. I have a business proposal for you, though. First you treat me to a big cup of kamra and offer me one free psychoanalysis session.
Then you can present me a ceremonial dessert spoon.”
“A dessert spoon? What are you talking about, Max?” said Juffin.
I swear he was ready to take his words back. He probably thought he had overestimated the strength of my poor mind.
“You thought I’d agree to ‘gobble down’ your surprises with my bare hands?” I said. “Please, Juffin, I do have some dignity. Ask your butler.”
The joke was below average, but Sir Juffin laughed so loud that the windows trembled. I think he was just glad that I had recovered so quickly. I was pretty glad about it myself: marvelous are
thy deeds.
Boomshakalaka.
The courier came in and placed a tray with kamra on the desk. Juffin stuck the huge mug right under my nose. “Now, in return, you’re going to tell me everything that happened to you.
Be clear, concise, and take it from the top please. Can you manage that?”
“I think I can.” And I began telling Juffin about the dreams Shurf and I were having. It was the confession that, as it had turned out, I should have hurried to make from the very
start.
I made another amazing discovery, perhaps the most amazing discovery of the entire crazy evening: I could recount my thoughts in a coherent and concise manner if I really wanted to. By the time
I finished my improvised lecture on the mysteries of dreams, the kamra in my cup was still hot, and I didn’t even need to put it on the burner.
“Quite a story,” said Juffin. “Especially the ending. Just like in the good old days. No, I take that back: it’s even too much for the Epoch of Orders. I wonder how many
lucky stars were shining on you when you were born?”
The door opened and slammed shut. I shivered.
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