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

in
the protective glove covered in runes.
    The green glow wobbled and disappeared. At the same time, Lonli-Lokli’s left arm dislodged itself from my grip without any visible effort. I had never been a strong guy and didn’t
stand a chance against Lonli-Lokli himself.
    I had to admit he was telling the truth. I didn’t have too many tricks in my arsenal—at least none that could stand up to the Master Who Snuffs Out Unnecessary Lives, a veritable
killing machine whose “skillful hands” many an ancient Grand Magician had failed to escape. Maybe I could shrink him and hide him between my thumb and my index finger?
    I was sure, however, that my favorite trick would be tantamount to suicide: however small Sir Shurf might be, nothing was going to prevent him from exposing his death-dealing hands even while he
was curled up in my fist. And then I’d be dead. Very, very dead.
    Spit at him! Spit at him now, you idiot! my mind was yelling, but this uninvited adviser had to stuff it. I wasn’t going to waste precious time on experiments, the results of which were
already obvious to me.
    My logic was approximately as follows: Sir Shurf was my colleague, my comrade in arms, my partner in many perilous adventures—my mentor, one could say. Since he himself had taught me a
great deal of magic, he knew what to expect from me. Moreover, one would assume, he was prepared for everything, as well. For example, I was sure he had some kind of protection from my venomous
spit. To get out of this alive, my primary objective was to forget all of my old tricks and pull off something absolutely unimaginable, something that shattered all his preconceptions of me and,
indeed, my own preconceptions of myself.
    I had nothing to lose—I was virtually a dead man. Sir Shurf was already taking off his left protective glove. Fortunately, he was doing it slowly and carefully, which was a usual safety
measure. Unfortunately, however slowly he was fiddling with his gloves, I still didn’t have a chance in hell for survival.
    All I could do was try to have a good time dying, and to go out in style. Why not? My scant but sad postmortem experience suggested that I wouldn’t have much time for it after the
fact.
    I laughed like a madman and jumped onto my feet, not quite realizing why I was doing it. Was I going to challenge my friend Shurf to play a game of chase? Then again, knowing me . . .
    The next thing I knew, my feet were no longer touching the ground. The wonderful lightness that had poured into me after the ritual with the holey cup had finally overflowed. A moment later I
was contemplating the spiky rooftops of the Old City with surprise. The street lamps were glowing somewhere down there. I hadn’t merely levitated; I had shot up into the sky: a merry
lightweight force had jolted me, then launched me upward like a cork from a bottle of champagne.
    I was still laughing like crazy. Maybe I was crazy. What else would happen to a man if his most trustworthy and predictable friend was going to kill him? The fact that I was hovering above the
Echo night like Winnie-the-Pooh at the end of his balloon complemented the crazy events of the evening very nicely.
    A piercing white flash somewhere down below brought me to my senses. Until that moment, I had had no idea of the range of Lonli-Lokli’s deadly left hand. For a moment, I thought it was
curtains for me. Yet I was about to learn some good news: the distance to the target mattered. The snow-white lightning flashed and fizzled out somewhere above the roofs of the Old City. I was much
higher and, apparently, completely beyond reach.
    Gotta see Juffin right now, I thought. What I really need now is to curl up and shelter under Sir Juffin Hully’s wings. I don’t think I can solve this problem myself.
    I clutched at this thought like a drowning man grasping hold of someone else’s lifebelt. For a few moments, I thought only about how desperate I was to see Juffin: I rehearsed my