The Alchemaster's Apprentice - By Walter Moers Page 0,78
block. If he did, any further hypnosis would render you psychotic. You might spend the rest of your life imagining yourself to be a glass of milk or the town hall at Florinth.’
‘We’d better leave it, then,’ Echo said quickly.
‘I’d advise against it too. Too risky. Ghoolion is an expert hypnotist and he’s far too careful to dispense with a blocking mechanism.’
Echo was impressed by Izanuela’s self-assurance. She didn’t conceal her unlovely features beneath a cowl or in darkened rooms. Hers was a proud, undisguised ugliness that exploited its impact to her own advantage - an ugliness that demanded respect.
‘Up is down and ugly is beautiful,’ thought Echo. Aloud, he asked, ‘You mean it’s genuinely impossible for me to run away of my own volition?’
‘Yes. Spells of that kind don’t expire until their author dies,’ Izanuela said in a low voice. ‘You’d have to kill Ghoolion to be released from it.’
Although it now seemed quite natural to Echo that Ghoolion meant to kill him, the thought of killing the Alchemaster himself struck him as monstrous.
‘I could never do such a thing,’ he said.
‘It would be the simplest solution, though. There must be enough poisonous stuff lying around in that laboratory to kill a whole horde of Alchemasters. A pinch of something in his coffee, and …’ She blew an imaginary feather off her palm.
‘I’m not like that,’ Echo said. ‘It’s out of the question.’
The Uggly sighed. ‘That’s why you Crats are becoming extinct. You’re too nice for this world.’
‘Why are you still here?’ asked Echo. ‘I mean, when all the other Ugglies have moved out? Are you also under a spell?’
‘No.’ Izanuela stared at him until her squint became almost unbearable.
‘So why not simply leave this town yourself, given that Ghoolion makes your life such a misery?’
‘Why not? I’ll tell you. When the other Ugglies had gone I learnt what it means to have a monopoly. In the old days we Ugglies used to be deadly competitors, but all at once I was the most sought-after naturopath and fortune teller in Malaisea. Customers beat a path to my door. You’ve no idea what a demand there is for alternative medicine in a town full of sick people.’
The Uggly gazed intently at Echo, waggling each of her ears in turn.
‘Anyway, Ghoolion leaves me alone most of the time. He knows how important to him my presence is. What town needs a persecutor of the Ugglies if there aren’t any Ugglies left to persecute?’
‘I see,’ said Echo. He stared, spellbound, at her waggling ears.
‘And don’t imagine that the Ugglies who moved out are faring any better as a result. Most of them are vagabonds. They traipse around Zamonia from one fairground to the next, complete with their donkey carts and cooking pots, sleeping rough and going in constant fear of Corn Demons and Woodwolves. I’ve got a roof over my head and plenty of regular customers. What more could anyone want?’
Izanuela stopped waggling her ears. ‘But what about you?’ she said. ‘What made you think I could help you?’
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ said Echo. ‘Actually, I got the idea from a friend of mine. He thought you Ugglies either know or possess something Ghoolion is scared of.’
The Uggly gave him the sort of look she might have reserved for imbeciles or children who have said something idiotic.
‘What gave your friend that idea?’ she asked pityingly. ‘Why should Ghoolion be scared of us, of all people?’
‘Not a clue,’ said Echo. ‘It wasn’t my idea, as I say. Perhaps he thought you could brew a potion of some kind.’
‘Oh,’ Izanuela scoffed, ‘if that’s all! Brew a potion? No problem. One that would shrink him to the size of a mouse, maybe? Or make him disappear into thin air?’
Echo’s jaw dropped. ‘Could you do that?’
‘Of course not!’ she snapped. ‘Good heavens, what an exaggerated idea of our powers you have! I mean, look around you. The most effective potion we can administer is camomile tea!’
Echo looked deflated. ‘Then it was no use my coming here again, I suppose,’ he said with a sigh.
The Uggly’s shoulders gave a loud creak as she shrugged them.
‘I can’t help that, can I? Listen, youngster: Ugglies versus Ghoolion is like a bucket of water against a forest fire, or harmless herbalism against the most dangerous form of alchemy, or fennel tea against the bubonic plague.’
‘Yes,’ said Echo, ‘I understand. Many thanks for hearing me out all the same.’
He turned to go. Izanuela clicked her fingers and the door swung open.