The Alchemaster's Apprentice - By Walter Moers Page 0,92

Auricula and Daggerthistle, Pharsley and Pheasant’s Eye. These look like ordinary stinging nettles but are ten times as virulent. That’s a Twin-Tongued Adderhead, and those two are Bullfinch Furze and Consumptive’s Cough. The blue-and-yellow flower is a Trigonelle. Those are Venus-Hair and Marsh Tea - both deadly poisonous, so don’t touch! The two over there are Cat’s-Foot and Hound’s-Tongue. They shouldn’t really be growing side by side, they simply can’t abide each other.’

Thick roots were growing out of the floor and walls, and many more were dangling from the ceiling. For some reason he couldn’t have explained, Echo balked at clambering over them and tried to give them all a wide berth.

Izanuela addressed herself to another part of her garden. ‘This area is more interesting. These are so-called horrificoplants from the Megaforest - few people ever get to see them. You’ve no idea how hard it is to obtain the things. Ghost Grass, Guillotinea, Graveyard Moss, Devil’s Besom, Trombophonic Toadstool, Executioner’s Axe, Dead Man’s Finger - the very names are enough to give one gooseflesh, but it’s amazing the juices one can distil from them, especially the fungi. I’ve made cough syrup out of this Corpse-Glove here. It doesn’t actually cure a cough, but your hair starts singing so sweetly when you take the stuff, you forget all about it.’

Echo was puzzled. Hadn’t Izanuela told him that the most effective remedy she possessed was camomile tea? These plants of hers could create a whole host of hallucinations.

‘How can all these plants grow down here?’ he asked. ‘In the dark, I mean?’

She plunged both hands in a bucket and held some loose soil under his nose. It was teeming with big, long worms that emitted a bright red glow.

‘Lava Worms,’ she explained. ‘I put some in every flowerpot. They give off light and heat, which is all that the sun does. In fact, they’re even better than the sun because they radiate heat the whole time, even at night. There’s no winter down here, no clouds, no storms, no hail or frost - no bad weather at all. It’s a botanical paradise, an Elysium for anything with roots. If I were a flower I’d like to grow here and nowhere else.’

Izanuela went over to a rough old kitchen dresser draped in a red velvet curtain. ‘Would you like to see something really special?’ she said.

Echo nodded. Of course he would.

‘This is my botanical theatre. It’s horticulture of the highest order. You could also call it a mobile plant theatre, but that would be a misleading designation. All plants are mobile, but most of them move so slowly their movements can’t be detected with the naked eye. These are rather more agile.’

The Uggly drew the curtain aside, pursed her lips together and imitated a brief fanfare.

‘Tarantara, tarantara! Allow me to present the Ballerina Blossom!’

She pointed to a plant on the top shelf. It did full justice to its name. A handsome flower with a red calyx, a long green stem and thin, translucent leaves, it launched into a graceful pas seul.

‘The one beside it is a Cobra Thistle - careful, please, it can strike like lightning!’

The prickly weed made an almost imperceptible movement. Its tense body was vibrating like a coiled spring and Echo guessed how unexpectedly its poisonous barbs could strike home.

‘That one there is a Throttlefern. It’s capable of strangling creatures as big as a thrush, but I’d advise you to stand back. I’m sure it wouldn’t hesitate to attack a Crat.’

The fern lashed the air with several of its tendrils, cracking them like bullwhips. Echo retreated a step.

‘On the shelf below is a Twitching Terebinth. Eat a salad made from its leaves and you develop St Vitus’s dance. You dance for three days and then drop dead.’

The plant shook its big leaves violently to and fro - so violently that the flowerpot wobbled, scattering soil in all directions.

‘It’s absolutely insane,’ Izanuela whispered, tapping her forehead. ‘The billowing stuff in the green bucket is Breezegrass. I like looking at it when I’m in need of relaxation. Watching Breezegrass for five minutes sends me off to sleep.’

Although there wasn’t a breath of wind in the cavern, the grass stirred as if a gentle breeze were blowing through its stems. Echo found this had a soothing effect on him too. He was gradually becoming accustomed to his strange surroundings.

‘Growing in the yellow flowerpot is a Clapperatus Applaudiens. I can’t help it, but it’s a bit too obsequious for me.’

When Izanuela pointed to

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