The Alchemaster's Apprentice - By Walter Moers Page 0,112
know you are,’ said Echo. ‘I hardly ever see you these days.’
The Alchemaster gave a sudden start. His face stiffened.
‘You didn’t answer my question,’ he said sharply. ‘What are you doing down here? I thought you were afraid of these cellars.’
Echo sighed. ‘Oh, nobody with a future as limited as mine wastes time on silly phobias. An idea occurred to me recently, while I was paying my first visit to the Toadwoods. I don’t know what you propose to do with my remains once you’ve boiled off the fat, but one thing’s for sure: I don’t want to be buried there.’
Ghoolion lowered the lantern.
‘I see,’ he said. ‘In that case, where?’
‘Well, this cellar is a nice, cool, clean place. The insects and rats can’t get in, and if my fat is going to be stored here anyway, I thought …’ Echo broke off.
‘You want to be buried down here?’ asked Ghoolion.
‘Yes, in a manner of speaking. If it isn’t too much trouble, you could stuff me like those mummies of yours. Then you’d have a nice memento of me and I wouldn’t be so completely cut off from the rest of the world.’
Ghoolion grinned. ‘Oh, is that all? You’re going to make a pretty demanding corpse. Anything else?’
‘Yes, there is,’ said Echo, ‘while we’re on the subject. I’d like you to put me in a particular spot. Would you mind coming with me?’
He now had to lure the old man further into the cellar so that the Uggly could sneak out behind his back.
‘The thing is,’ he said, leading the way, ‘I wouldn’t want to be on display among the balls of fat extracted from loathsome creatures like Throttlesnakes or Spiderwitches, or whatever they’re called.’
‘That’s understandable,’ said Ghoolion.
Glancing over his shoulder, Echo saw Izanuela emerge from her hiding place and tiptoe towards the door. He could imagine how terrified she was.
‘I’d like to be displayed back here beside the elements,’ he went on, ‘in a nice, dignified position.’
‘I think that could be arranged,’ Ghoolion said.
‘I’ve already chosen a spot: here, just beside the zamonium.’
Ghoolion gave another grin. ‘You want to be displayed beside the zamonium? Not a very modest request.’
‘But not presumptuous either, I hope. You told me yourself what an important role my fat is going to play in the development of Zamonian alchemy, so I thought, well …’
Echo was doing his utmost to prevent the old man from looking in Izanuela’s direction. He spoke as loudly as possible to drown any telltale sounds.
‘Well,’ Ghoolion repeated magnanimously, ‘I think that could be arranged. It’s not without a certain logic.’
Echo glanced over his shoulder again. The Uggly’s backside was just disappearing round the doorpost. Now he could relax. He would have to detain Ghoolion a little longer, that was all. He could picture Izanuela hurrying back along the underground passages, panting and sweating and cursing him under her breath. He hoped she would take good care of the stolen ball of fat.
‘Did you know’, he asked, ‘that there’s a monstrous great toad living in a grave in the Toadwoods and that it’s the last of its kind?’
The Love Potion
It was late that night - just before dawn, in fact - when Echo ventured out of the castle and hurried off to Uggly Lane to help Izanuela put the finishing touches to her potion. The front door admitted him of its own accord and he made his way down to the cellar, only to find the Uggly fast asleep beside her distillation plant. She was snoring with her head on the table top, surrounded by utter chaos. Dozens of flasks and test tubes, phials and beakers were standing there. Some of them had overturned and butterflies were sipping or bathing in the mingled liquids that had spilled from them. The glass flask of chlorophyll solution was boiling over, the hop dispenser rattling away and spitting out hop pellets, the Twitching Terebinth dancing a fandango in the midst of this mess.
Echo jumped up on the table and went over to Izanuela. She was talking in her sleep.
‘No … Please don’t … Ghoolion, I’m innocent … Don’t barbecue me, I beg you …’
Echo tapped her gently on the head with his paw. She sat up with a jerk and waved her arms around. Then she saw who it was and relaxed.
‘Good heavens … er…I must have dozed off … Sheer exhaustion, I’m afraid …’ She yawned prodigiously.