Read The Alchemaster's Apprentice Online

Authors: Walter Moers

The Alchemaster's Apprentice (53 page)

And then the Cooked Ghost arose from the foaming brew, brighter than ever before. It did not have to detach itself from the surface with an effort, as it had the first time, but simply turned into a wisp of luminous vapour and floated across the laboratory. Following it just as effortlessly came another equally luminous ghost. And another. And another. And another.
Ghoolion shrank away from the cauldron, which continued to disgorge a succession of shimmering forms. They congregated on the ceiling and encircled the laboratory like a dome of ghostly light.
‘What have you done?’ the Alchemaster demanded in a trembling voice.
‘I’ve no idea,’ Echo replied.
The Demons
T
he contents of the cauldron had subsided. The variety of smells that filled the laboratory was exceptional, even for surroundings like these. Although Echo was completely unacquainted with them, he could identify every one.
‘I smell Cralamander,’ he said in a low voice. ‘And Snowswallow. And Voltigork. Ubufant and Zamingo, too.’
‘You’re right,’ Ghoolion whispered. He was gazing gravely up at the strange aerial procession circling below the ceiling. ‘I can also smell the many other creatures I’ve rendered down. They’ve returned as ghosts the same way they left: via the cauldron.’
‘What are they doing here?’
‘I don’t know. I only know they can’t hurt me.’
‘Then why are you trembling?’
Ghoolion didn’t answer. Echo continued to enumerate the smells in the air: ‘A Platinum-Tongued Adder. An Ursine Muskrat. A Ferric Eagle. A Bicephalous Hukkan. A Zinoceros. A Yagg.’
‘Be quiet!’ Ghoolion hissed. Echo fell silent.
One of the Cooked Ghosts detached itself from the rest. It went spinning down like a sycamore leaf and did a sudden nosedive into the stuffed Nanofox that had scared Echo so much on his first visit to the laboratory. The fox glowed brightly and crackled like an alchemical battery. Then the ghost emerged from the stuffed animal and rejoined its circling companions.
‘What was that?’ Echo whispered. ‘Why did it do that?’
Ghoolion’s gaze was riveted on the ceiling. ‘No idea. Stop asking silly questions.’
The ghosts began to circle so fast that it made Echo dizzy just to watch their gyrations. At length they peeled off, one after another, and flew out into the passage. The Crat and the Alchemaster were alone together once more.
Ghoolion rubbed his eyes. ‘I’m going to find out what’s up,’ he said. ‘I trust they don’t intend to move in. My castle isn’t a dovecot for Cooked Ghosts.’ He gathered his cloak around him and hurried after the luminous apparitions.
What struck Echo as almost more astonishing than the recent course of events was the fact that he was all alone in the laboratory once more. He should really have been dead by now - rendered down into a ball of fat. He tugged at his chain, but it was as immovable as ever. What now? He pricked his ears and listened. Ghoolion’s clattering footsteps had died away. Nothing could be heard but the monotonous hiss of the rain.
No, wait, there was something else! Echo cocked his head and listened more intently. It wasn’t outside in the passage, it was here in the laboratory. Where had he heard that crackling sound before? When the Cooked Ghost nosedived into the stuffed fox. He looked over at it - and the fur on the back of his neck stood on end!
The creature was stirring. Slowly at first, it turned its head with a sound like gravel crunching beneath someone’s feet. The glow in its eyes intensified, then faded, but its brush was waving gently. It closed its gaping jaws and lifted its left forefoot from the base on which it had been mounted. An electrical crackle ran through its fur, which gave off sparks. Then it leapt down and landed in the middle of the laboratory.
‘This is too much,’ thought Echo. ‘Any more of it and I’ll pass out.’
The creature took three or four steps and came to a halt, sniffing the air. Having conducted an appraisal of all the strange scents in the room and homed in on the most interesting, it turned its head in Echo’s direction, bared its teeth and emitted a low growl.
‘Steady!’ Echo said involuntarily. ‘I won’t hurt you.’
But the fox displayed no interest in conversation. It slunk slowly closer, eyes aglow with a ghostly light and saliva dripping from its chops. Whatever had brought it to life had also filled it with murderous intent.
Echo strained in all directions, but the chain brought him up short every time. ‘I haven’t survived until now, only to be torn to pieces by a canine of the lowest order,’ it flashed through his head. ‘Not here! Not at this stage!’
Now only a few feet away, the fox was getting ready to pounce. It flexed its hind legs and bared its teeth still more. Its eyes had narrowed to slits.
Echo arched his back, lifted his tail and fluffed it out. He bared his teeth likewise and contorted his features into a mask of grim determination, looking twice his actual size. Then he hissed as loudly as he could.
Deterred by this sight, the fox uttered a terrified yelp and shot out of the door like a streak of red lightning. Echo relaxed, but only for a moment.
There, Ghoolion’s metallic footsteps were approaching once more! Echo could also hear other, unidentifiable sounds. Strange and alarming noises that might have been made by dangerous wild beasts.
Ghoolion burst in. ‘Quick!’ he said, more to himself than his prisoner. ‘We must hurry!’
‘What’s happened?’ asked Echo, skipping excitedly to and fro. ‘That fox the ghost dived into came to life.’
‘Only the fox?’ Ghoolion said breathlessly as he hurried across the room. ‘You’ve no idea what a can of worms you’ve opened!’
The Alchemaster darted over to the only wall in the laboratory not lined with shelves. He pressed some of the black stones and the masonry began to move as it had in the case of his golden treasure chamber.
‘The ghosts can’t achieve anything in the world of the living,’ said Ghoolion, who was now hurrying over to Echo, ‘but they evidently can in the world of the dead. They’re roaming all over the castle, awakening one mummy after another.’
‘You mean they’re bringing all your stuffed demons to life?’ Echo became more agitated still.
‘Yes, it’s enough if one ghost enters them. Sometimes two or three do, but they all wake up, and each of the creatures I stuffed has designs on my life!’
Echo didn’t know what to make of the situation. Ghoolion was frightened. That was good. Woodwolves and Hazelwitches were roaming around the castle. That wasn’t so good.
The Alchemaster opened the door of the alchemical furnace.
‘Hey, what are you doing?’ Echo demanded.
‘You may not believe me,’ said Ghoolion, picking him up, ‘but I’m not running away, I’m saving your life - temporarily. I refuse to be beaten so easily.’ And he thrust Echo into the cold furnace. ‘Hide in there and keep as quiet as you can.’ He closed the furnace door as tightly as the chain permitted.
‘Why not unchain me and take me with you?’ Echo asked anxiously through the bars. ‘Where are you going?’
‘I alone can do what I have in mind,’ Ghoolion said. ‘Just keep still and nothing may happen to you. And pray that I succeed.’
He went back to the wall, which had opened to reveal a small chamber.
‘What’s that little room,’ Echo asked, ‘a hiding place?’
‘It isn’t a room,’ Ghoolion replied, ‘it’s a lift. Wish me luck!’
The stones began to close up again. It looked as if the Alchemaster were being walled up alive by some unseen agency. Then he disappeared from view.
Echo crouched down on the floor of the alchemical furnace, which stank of cold ashes, sulphur and phosphorus. He dreaded to think of all the creatures Ghoolion had burnt alive in there. Tensely, he peered into the laboratory through the bars.
The room was suddenly bathed in light. A whole flock of ghosts had come flying in, casting a silvery glow over everything in sight. Having made a few circuits of the ceiling, they proceeded to dive into the cauldron one by one.
‘Snowswallow,’ thought Echo. ‘Voltigork. Ubufant. Zamingo. Cralamander …’ There they went, back to their ‘home in Death’s domain’.
In the end only one was left: his taciturn friend the Cooked Ghost. It slowly revolved in the air as if looking for someone. Then, with a final flash of light, it dived into the cauldron and disappeared.
‘Good luck,’ Echo said under his breath and strained his ears again. He wished he had bidden the Cooked Ghost a less cursory farewell, but the menacing noises - the panting and growling, hissing and whispering - had now become so loud that he had other concerns. He listened with bated breath.
Then in they came. In the lead was a hunchbacked Hazelwitch with limbs of gnarled timber and a costume of green leaves. Her long wooden fingers were clasped together and her yellowish tongue kept darting in and out of her mouth like a snake’s.
The Corn Demon that glided in after her seemed to consist of nothing but a mouldering shroud. A dark hole yawned in its cowl where a face should have been and it made a sound reminiscent of the gusts of wind that sometimes moaned in the castle chimneys.
The next figure to appear was entirely swathed in a winding sheet. A Cyclopean Mummy, it smelt so abominable that Echo shrank away from the bars. Its movements were slow, like those of a sleepwalker, but Cyclopean Mummies were said to possess immense physical strength. They were further reputed to break every bone in their victims’ bodies and watch them as they slowly expired.
A Grim Reaper entered the laboratory. The bald head protruding from its grey robe gleamed in the candlelight, and Echo couldn’t have said whether the horrific visage beneath it was a mask or its actual face.
Accompanying it was a Woodwolf, one of the most dangerous creatures to be found in the Zamonian outback. It walked beside the Reaper on all fours with resin dripping from its jaws. The Woodwolf was the source of the intimidating growls Echo had heard.
Last of all came a Golden Gondrag. An amphibious creature from the Graveyard Marshes, with golden scales and ice-green, saurian eyes, it left a long trail of slime behind it.
These creatures had terrified Echo even when dead. Now his fears were truly justified. Having come to tear the Alchemaster to pieces with their claws and fangs, throttle him with their tentacles, poison him with their lethal breath and send him to his death in every conceivable manner, they now found the laboratory deserted. Furiously, they proceeded to look for their quarry. They overturned tables and workbenches, hurled bookshelves to the floor and rummaged in cupboards, but all to no avail. The longer they searched, the more enraged they became.
Crawling on his belly and taking care not to rattle his chain, Echo retreated as far as he could. The floor at the back of the alchemical furnace was littered with charred bones and teeth, but he didn’t care. It would be only a matter of time before they opened the furnace door and discovered him.
At least he didn’t have to see the frightful creatures any more, but he could still hear them only too distinctly. The sounds they made were not of this world - they were the stuff of nightmares. Snarls alternated with hoarse giggles and menacing grunts. When two of them bumped into each other, as they did from time to time, they exchanged indignant hisses and growls. Echo couldn’t imagine what they would sound like if they really came to blows.

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