The Alchemaster's Apprentice - By Walter Moers Page 0,87

already have what I need. It’s in there.’ He gave Echo’s skull another tap. Echo indignantly shook his finger off.

Ghoolion straightened up, looking serious. ‘Right,’ he said, ‘now for something else. That story you told me yesterday evening …’ He hesitated.

Echo pricked up his ears. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘what about it?’

‘It shocked me at first - quite why, you’ll learn in due course. But then, after thinking about it the whole night long, I recovered my mental equilibrium. I’d like to thank you for opening my eyes. More than that, you saved me from the clutches of insanity.’

‘I did?’ Echo looked astonished.

‘Yes indeed, and I’ll prove it to you. But first I’ll tell you my own version of the story, then you’ll understand everything better. Come with me, I must show you a part of the castle you haven’t been to yet.’

Echo followed Ghoolion with reluctance. They’d gone down to the cellars the last time the Alchemaster had made such an invitation.

Ghoolion hurried on ahead, iron soles clattering, and it was all Echo’s aching legs could do to keep up with him. They descended a short flight of stairs and made their way along a passage Echo had never entered because it smelt so odd.

‘You may be surprised to hear that I already knew the story,’ Ghoolion said. ‘It’s a strange coincidence.’

‘How do you mean?’ asked Echo.

‘I knew the young man you told me about. He was an alchemy student and a good friend of mine. We attended Grailsund University together. That’s why the story affected me so much.’

‘I wasn’t to know,’ Echo said.

‘He was one of the most popular students in our year and a very talented alchemist, even as a youth. If he had set out to turn lead into gold, he’d probably have succeeded.’ Ghoolion laughed. ‘I was immensely proud of being his friend,’ he went on. ‘As I already said, if you want to imagine the diametrical opposite of his good looks, quick wit and natural charm, you need only picture me at that age: ugly, awkward and unsociable.’

Echo could picture him only too well, but he took care not to say so out loud.

‘I clung to him like a limpet. I aped his mannerisms, wore the same clothes, studied the same subjects, cultivated his scientific and cultural interests. I became him, so to speak.’

They were now descending a spiral staircase. Echo was afraid it led down to the cellars, but they came out in another wing of the castle. The odd smell was stronger here, and he found it more and more disagreeable. The few windows, which were high but very narrow, admitted only a modicum of daylight and fresh air.

‘After his finals he went off to Ingotville,’ Ghoolion went on, ‘to experiment with metals there. I stayed on in Grailsund for financial reasons, but we kept in touch and corresponded regularly. He sent me detailed reports of his experiments. I tried to reproduce them on a modest scale - unsuccessfully, of course, but I was happy to go on sharing in his work. One day he wrote that he had seen the loveliest girl in the world. She was the daughter of a powerful lead tycoon, so he could only worship her from afar. He said he had amassed a certain amount of money, thanks to his successful experiments, but the plutocrats of Ingotville were a caste of their own. Then, after a year’s secret adoration, he sent me a letter brimming with optimism. It spoke of a contest whose winner would gain the beautiful girl’s hand in marriage. My friend intended to take part and stake all his savings on the outcome. I urged him to go ahead. The rest of the story you know. His last letter informed me that he proposed to join a mercenary army and go campaigning in the Gloomberg Mountains. I wrote back imploring him to reconsider his decision. I learnt of his death not long afterwards.’

Ghoolion had uttered the last few sentences in an uncharacteristically low, hesitant voice. The smell was now so offensive that Echo almost gagged. Had he walled up the corpses of his animal victims here, or was he hiding something still worse?

The Alchemaster came to a sudden halt. He turned and looked at Echo.

‘Listen,’ he said, ‘I’ll tell you the whole truth. I’ve been lying in one important respect, I must confess.’

Echo had absolutely no wish to hear the truth, nor did he want to follow Ghoolion any further. The Snow-White Widow had