The Master's Apprentice - Oliver Potzsch Page 0,151

that they could never become public knowledge. It was impossible to predict how people would react if they found out.

The beast is nigh . . .

Conrad Celtis had been preoccupied with Gilles de Rais for decades. He had found the name in old chronicles and had kept digging. It had become almost an obsession over the years, and Celtis was afraid that this obsession might now be taking hold of a highly inquisitive young student who wasn’t ready for such knowledge.

And so Celtis had kept certain pieces of information from Johann. They were all written down in the book where he noted anything he’d ever learned about Gilles de Rais. Celtis had traveled to Paris and Orléans; he had scouted the counties and estates along the Loire and spoken to the old folks. He had found terrible things at the châteaux Champtocé, Machecoul, and Tiffauges. Especially at Tiffauges.

Conrad Celtis closed his eyes and tried to push back the memories into the deepest corner of his consciousness. By and by, the individual pieces had come together in a horrific mosaic. He had written everything down and then locked away the book, as if he could somehow lock away the truth.

And now this young student had come along, this Faustus, and asked about Gilles de Rais. It was as if he’d reawakened the evil with his question.

How did he know the name?

Celtis decided that all his cumulative research was too dangerous to remain in the pages of one book. If it landed in the wrong hands, it could set fire to the world.

He stood up with grim determination and walked over to the chest. He opened it and took out a small, tattered book. The pages were covered with handwriting, and in some places his hand had trembled so badly that the writing was barely legible. Celtis leafed through the pages one last time and shuddered.

This goddamned cold . . .

Then he hurled the book into the flames, which immediately started to devour the pages hungrily. One by one, the pages turned to ashes, and finally the leather book covers burned away, too.

The truth about Gilles de Rais had gone up in smoke for good.

When Johann showed Valentin the shard of mirror the following day, his friend looked at him with surprise.

“Celtis gave this to you, on the request of Rector Gallus?” he asked. “So you aren’t as deeply in disgrace as I thought. How was your conversation last night?”

“Oh, I apologized for my rash words and we talked a little about Plato and the Greek tragedies. That was all,” replied Johann. “Celtis truly is a learned man.”

Valentin scratched his nose. “I still don’t understand what your last question was about—you know, up at the castle. About that Gilles de Rais. Who is that guy? Something about it must have angered Celtis very much.”

“And now the waves are calm again,” replied Johann dismissively.

Celtis’s words the day before had unsettled him and stirred up old memories that he’d tried in vain to forget. He hadn’t been able to sleep, tortured by those memories: the missing children at Knittlingen and later in the mountains near Innsbruck, the pentagram in the tower, and then the eerie meeting with the man named Poitou—another French name. He and Tonio had conversed in French, of that Johann was sure. But he still didn’t know what had really happened in that clearing near Nördlingen.

Small, squirming bundles . . .

Just before dawn, Johann had dug out the knife that had been with him for so long now, and he studied the engraving.

G d R.

What if this knife truly had belonged to Gilles de Rais once upon a time? The blade was razor sharp. What had the knight from the Loire Valley used it for?

Johann shook himself, and Valentin gave him a quizzical look. “What is it?”

“Nothing. Let’s speak of something else. What about our laterna magica? Do you think the mirror glass will be enough?”

Valentin turned the shard in his hand thoughtfully. “Hmm. We’ll need a glazier to cut it first. The source of light ought to meet the mirror from as many angles as possible to achieve maximum brightness. We can’t do anything else until then.”

“Then we’ll just have to wait a few more days. I have other obligations anyhow.”

Valentin grinned. “Let me guess. Something about a girl at a nunnery?” He sighed deeply. “Afterward, don’t say I didn’t warn you. First the incident with Celtis and now this. If they don’t throw you out of school because of