The Alchemaster's Apprentice - By Walter Moers Page 0,118

of any kind. He put the glass down again. Held the bottle up to the light. Read the label. Put the bottle down beside the glass. And came straight over to the bookshelf where Echo was hiding.

‘He’s spotted me!’ thought Echo. He only just suppressed an urge to make a dash for it.

Ghoolion bent down, took hold of a thick book just in front of Echo’s hiding place and pulled it out. If he had bent a little lower, they would have been looking into each other’s eyes. But he turned away, browsing through the old encyclopedia.

In the hours that followed Ghoolion made no move either to drink the wine or to leave the laboratory. He checked the temperature of his bubbling cauldron with a thermometer several times, studied some slides under the microscope, walked up and down reciting numerical tables, and made notes. He also drank all kinds of beverages. Tea, water, coffee, his revolting slimy black concoction. But no wine.

The longer Echo persevered in his hiding place, the more exasperated he became. ‘Drink that confounded wine, you old devil!’ he felt like shouting. ‘You’re only doing all this to torment me. You know perfectly well I’m here.’

But he controlled himself with difficulty. He endured the disgusting stench Ghoolion created by boiling up his balls of fat. He endured the sighs of the dying, his uncomfortable position, his fear and uncertainty. An hour went by. Two hours. Three. Now he was having to fight off fatigue. The stifling atmosphere and his physical immobility were making him sleepy.

‘For goodness’ sake don’t go to sleep!’ he commanded himself. Nobody snored louder than a sleeping Crat.

There! Ghoolion was going over to the wine glass at last. He picked it up again and put it to his lips. Then he had a sudden idea. He put the glass down and hurried over to a blackboard. Quickly covered it with formulae. Wiped them out and scrawled some more in their place. Stepped back and submitted them to lengthy scrutiny. It was enough to drive anyone mad! Echo writhed with impatience in his hiding place.

Then Ghoolion walked briskly back to the wine glass. Picked it up. Put it to his lips. And drained it at a gulp!

Echo gave a delighted start and hit his head on the shelf above. A book fell over. Ghoolion pricked up his ears. His face registered no reaction to the love potion. He took a ball of fat and tossed it into a saucepan. Picked up a basket and hurried out to fetch some more supplies from the cellar.

With a groan, Echo scrambled stiffly out of his hiding place.

The Wedding Gown

Rather than risk another encounter with feral dogs, Echo returned by way of the busiest streets in Malaisea. A few passers-by stared uncomprehendingly at the empty wineskin strapped to his chest, but most were too preoccupied with themselves, their aches and pains, heartburns and gastric disorders, coughs and colds. Not for the first time, Echo realised how little he had missed these universally diseased surroundings.

When he reached Izanuela’s house he found the entrance to the cellar open. The usual weird music could be heard, but this time it had taken on a solemn, uplifting quality.

‘Down here!’ Izanuela called. ‘Come and kiss the bride!’

‘But no tongues!’ Echo insisted as he made his way down the stairs. ‘Good news! Mission accomplished! I managed to administer the love potion!’

‘I expected no less,’ she said. ‘Mind you, I haven’t been idle in the meantime.’

A long cord had been suspended below the roof of the subterranean garden, and draped over it like a curtain was a big length of red cloth. Izanuela had concealed herself behind this.

‘Just a moment,’ she trilled. ‘I’m nearly ready.’

‘Ready for what?’ Echo demanded. What had the demented creature dreamed up this time?

‘Twitchstik!’ she cried, and the Song of the Ugglian Oaks rose in a dramatic crescendo. The curtain was drawn aside and Izanuela stood revealed.

‘Tadaaa!’

She wasn’t dressed in her usual attire. Instead of her shabby old cloak she now wore a gown like none that Echo had ever seen before. It was completely woven out of flowers and other plants: red and black roses, white and yellow tulips, marguerites and poppies, pale-pink marbled carnations, flame-red orchids, blue violets and violet hyacinths, daisies and plum blossom, snowdrops and lilies, asters and bleeding heart, lavender and lotus blossom, deadly nightshade and eyebright. Also woven into the gown’s elaborate ornamentation were herbs, grasses and foliage: celandine and love grass, clover and cardamine, myrtle