The Truth (Discworld 25)
Page 241
'You'll never get it off your hands, you know. It isn't really for the average--'
'In a bottle,' said William patiently. 'Sealed with wax,'
'You won't even smell the other oils! What do you want them for?'
'Insurance,' said William. 'Oh, and after you've sealed it, wash off the bottle with ether, and then wash the ether off.'
'Is this going to be used for some illegal purpose?' said the apothecary. He caught William's expression. 'Just interesteti,' he added quickly.
When he'd gone to make up the order William called in at a couple of other shops and bought a pair of thick gloves. ,
When he returned, the apothecary was just bringing the oils to the counter. He held a small glass flask, filled with liquid. Inside floated a much smaller phial.
'The outer liquid's water,' he said, pulling some plugs out of his nose. 'Take it carefully, if you don't mind. Drop it and we can kiss our sinuses goodbye.'
'What does it smell of?' said William.
'Well, if I said "cabbage",' said the apothecary, 'I wouldn't be saying the half of it.'
Next, William went to his lodgings. Mrs Arcanum was averse to boarders coming back to their rooms during the day, but at the moment William appeared to be outside her frame of reference and she merely gave him a nod as he went upstairs.
The keys were in the old trunk at the end of his bed. It was the one he'd taken to Hugglestones; he'd kept it ever since, so that he could kick it occasionally.
His cheque book was also in there. He took that, too.
His sword rattled as his hand brushed against it.
He'd enjoyed swordsmanship at Hugglestones. It was in the dry, you were allowed to wear protective clothing and no one attempted to stamp your face into the mud. He'd actually been the champion of the school. But this wasn't because he was much good. It was simply that most of the other boys were so bad. They approached the sport as they approached all others, in a great big keen screaming rush, using the sword as a sort of club. That meant that if William could avoid the first wild stroke, then he was going to win.
He left the sword in the trunk.
After some reflection he pulled out one of his old socks and pulled it over the apothecary's bottle. Hurting people with broken glass wasn't part of the plan, either.
Peppermint! Not a bad choice, but they hadn't known what else was available, had they... ?
Mrs Arcanum was a great believer in net curtains, so that she could see out while outsiders couldn't see in. William lurked behind the ones in his room until he was certain that an indistinct shape among the rooftops opposite was a gargoyle.
This wasn't natural gargoyle territory, any more than Gleam Street.
The thing about gargoyles, he reflected as he stepped back and headed down the stairs, was that they didn't get bored. They were happy to stay and watch anything for days. But, while they moved faster than people thought, they didn't move faster than people.
He ran through the kitchen so quickly that he only heard Mrs Arcanum gasp, and then he was through the back door and over the wall into the alley beyond.
Someone was sweeping it. For a moment William wondered if it was a watchman in disguise, or even Sister Jennifer in disguise, but probably there was no one who'd disguise themselves as a gnoll. You'd have to strap a compost heap to your back, to begin with. Gnolls ate almost everything. What they didn't eat they collected obsessively. No one had ever studied them to find out why. Perhaps a carefully sorted collection of rotted cabbage stalks was a sign of big status in gnoll society.
"ar'tn'n, M'r W'rd,' croaked the creature, leaning on its shovel.
'Er... hello... er...'
'Sn'g'k.'
'Ah? Yes. Thank you. Goodbye.'
He hurried down another alley, crossed the street and found yet another alley. He wasn't sure how many gargoyles were watching him, but it took them some time to cross streets...
How was it that the gnoll had known his name? It wasn't as though they'd met at a party or something. Besides, the gnolls all worked for... Harry King...
Well, they did say that the King of the Golden River never forgot a debtor...