about them.’
‘Correct. And why does he turn people against them?’
Echo grunted. ‘What is this, an interrogation? I’m the one who asks the questions as a rule.’
‘Very well, I’ll tell you: it’s because Ghoolion is scared of the Ugglies.’
‘I can’t believe that. He isn’t scared of anything or anyone, not even the Snow-White Widow.’
‘Everyone’s scared of something. Herpaps the Ugglies know something about him. Or he knows something about them that frightens him. Wouldn’t it be interesting to find out what it is?’
‘All right, perhaps he is scared of the Ugglies. So what? How does that help me?’
‘If anyone in Lamaisea has worked out how to put one over on Ghoolion, it’s them. The Ugglies could be your only hope.’
Echo turned thoughtful. ‘But are there any left here? It’s ages since I saw one.’
‘Ghoolion has succeeded in driving most of them out of Lamaisea, it’s true. He did a thorough job, but I know there’s still one around. I’ve sighted her occasionally on my renossaicance flights, gathering herbs in the Toadwoods.’
‘But how am I to find her?’ Echo said plaintively. ‘I’ve never been in the Toadwoods.’
‘She doesn’t live there. She lives right in the middle of Lamaisea, in Uggly Lane.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Ugglies aren’t allowed to live anywhere else. It’s quite simple: since all the Ugglies except her have moved out, all you need to do is go to Uggly Lane after dark. You’ll find her in the only house with wighted lindows.’
Echo shivered. ‘You expect me to go there in the middle of the night? Haven’t you heard all the stories they tell about Uggly Lane?’
‘Yes. Sinister stories.’
‘That’s putting it mildly. They’re quite sinister enough to deter one from going there after dark. I’ve never set foot in the place, even in daylight.’
The Tuwituwu eyed Echo gravely. ‘But the last Uggly in Lamaisea is your only hope. She alone can save you, I’m afraid.’
‘All right,’ said Echo, eager to dispose of such an unpleasant subject. ‘Perhaps you’re right. It’s worth a try.’
‘Then don’t wait too long,’ Theodore advised him. ‘And now, tell me some more about the Snow-White Widow. Was it really an eye you saw in the midst of all that hair? How scafinating!’
The Golden Squirrel
Echo’s spirit of initiative seemed to have deserted him completely ever since his futile attempt to escape. His passion for eating and sleeping, on the other hand, had increased considerably. Depressing thoughts of the future, which he continually strove to suppress, had now been joined by dismaying memories of the Snow-White Widow, and the finest aids to forgetfulness, he found, were lavish meals and plenty of sleep.
The Alchemaster did all he could to promote Echo’s lethargy. He left little snacks all over the castle - a plateful of lamb cutlets here, a bowl of rice pudding there. He also stepped up his use of ingredients such as butter and cream, sugar and cheese, flour and dripping, and dispensed with healthy foods like fruit, salads and vegetables. Pâté de foie gras or black puddings, minced pork or chocolate gâteau, streaky bacon or smoked mackerel - Echo didn’t care what was put before him, he wolfed the lot. His stomach became as rotund and bloated as a wineskin. He had long ago abandoned the sensible eating habits of a Crat keen to preserve his physical agility. Instead, he had developed the voracity of a bear preparing to hibernate.
The speed with which Echo had put on weight was one of the reasons why he visited the roof less and less often. It was an ever-increasing effort for him to scramble up the sloping tiles and flights of steps. On one occasion he lost his balance, slithered down a roof and only just avoided plunging to his death by clinging to a chimney. After that incident he gave up visiting the roof altogether and lost touch with Theodore for several days.
Making a trip to Uggly Lane seemed far too arduous, so Echo kept putting it off. He preferred to remain in the castle, where he ambled along the passages, generally in search of things to eat. His sole companion was the Cooked Ghost. That was fine with him because it asked no complicated or disagreeable questions and didn’t press him to visit Uggly Lane in the middle of the night. With the Cooked Ghost for company he ventured into almost every part of the castle, even its nether regions, where most of Ghoolion’s sinister mummies were to be found.
One night, when the pair of them were roaming around the