Free The Stranger's Magic: The Labyrinths of Echo: Book Three by Max Frei Page A

midnight, and soon most of our
potential witnesses will be sleeping like logs. The others will also be sleeping, in fact, just not quite like logs. Not much we can do about that.”
    I broke into an involuntary smile. “So that’s why you had me sleep at your place after each dangerous adventure. And then the next morning, you looked all important and told me you
were tired as all get-out and that it was ‘all clear to you now.’”
    “Did you think I was just crazy about your snoring? Don’t try to play the fool, mister. You knew it all along; you just didn’t bother to admit it to yourself. Am I right, or am
I right?”
    “I suppose so,” I said, sighing. “You know best. You’re the world’s greatest expert in the science of knowing me.”
    “True, that. Now take a right. We’re almost there.”

    About two minutes later I stopped the amobiler by a low decorative fence. Until now, I had thought that the Refuge for the Mad would be guarded as securely as the famous Nunda Royal Prison of
Hard Labor in Gugland. It turned out I couldn’t have been more wrong; even the gate wasn’t locked. Of course, it didn’t really matter: a fence like that could only stop someone
who preferred crawling around on his stomach.
    We left the amobiler by the gate, crossed a grand but very neglected garden, and finally arrived at our destination. Two large windows glowed with a cozy orange light in the middle of the
garden, among the thick branches of trees.
    “Pick up the pace, Max. They’re waiting for us,” said Juffin, rushing toward the light like a giant moth.
    “How come there’s no security?” I said. “Don’t tell me it’s just one of the things that ‘aren’t done.’”
    The boss’s eyebrows flew up. “Of course it isn’t done. Why? Who would ever think of attacking these poor fellows?”
    “I mean the other way around,” I said. “You need the security to keep the loonies in.”
    “Why would they not want to stay in? They are treated well here—better than in other places, anyway. Our wisemen can ease any torments of the soul. They have even returned many of
the inhabitants of this place back to their normal lives. Hold on a minute, Max. Are you saying locking them in is one of the pleasant little customs of your homeland?”
    “It is. Did you get a chance to watch One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest ? I highly recommend it. Very educational. It makes the habits of your legendary villain Loiso Pondoxo
look like child’s play.”
    I noticed that I was trembling in helpless fury, as though I was the one being tortured and not the defiant brawler Mc Murphy. Talk about the magic of cinema.
    “Don’t overdo it,” said the boss. “We’ve come to see a wiseman. He’s a scholar. He’ll suspect something as soon as he sees you like this. You’ll
end up with an extraordinary vacation and I with a boatload of troubles. Do me a favor, Sir Max—get a grip on yourself.”
    I reined in my righteous fury, took a deep breath, and said in a very different tone, “Actually, locking up the loonies isn’t a form of mindless torture. It’s a necessity. You
saw one of my crazy fellow countrymen yourself. Remember how happy he was slitting the throats of those poor women? What would you do with a guy like that? Give him pills and walk him through the
garden?”
    “Well, I doubt that even our wisemen would’ve been able to cure that guy,” said Juffin. “But at the very least, they would have given him the Crystal of Submission. That
would have done the trick.”
    “That easy?”
    “Sure. Piece of cake. If you don’t believe it, here’s your last chance. Starting tomorrow, you’re going to be treated like royalty. And you know what they call crazy
kings—eccentrics. No one will say a word, even if they start dancing naked on the market square. All hail Your Majesty!”
    The boss gave me a mocking bow—Sir Melifaro himself would have died of envy—and opened a heavy, ancient door.

    The