The Master's Apprentice - Oliver Potzsch Page 0,208

A soft creaking of the door. Johann felt certain that it was Tonio. The master had come to get him.

But it wasn’t Tonio. It was Karl. He was covered in snow from head to toe like a white monster, and his cheeks glowed red. Water dripped to the ground and formed a small puddle.

Johann lowered the blade with a trembling hand. He fought back tears. For the first time in a long while he was deeply touched. Something had burst through the cold armor of his heart, and it hadn’t been a knife. The boy hadn’t left him! Karl was standing in the door with a shy smile on his lips and a dirty rag in his hands that seemed to be wrapped around something woolly. The bundle whimpered and squirmed. Karl gently set it down and unwrapped it.

It was a puppy with wiry pitch-black fur. It wagged its tail and started to explore the room on unsteady paws.

“I couldn’t bear your gloomy face any longer,” said Karl. “So I went out to look for something that would make you happy again.” He gestured at the little dog, which was awkwardly making its way toward Johann. “I found it with a shepherd not far from the village. It’s a wolfhound. I know—it doesn’t look like much now. But apparently it’s going to grow to be an enormous beast. You could name him Satan.” Karl winked. “It’s a boy this time. I checked.”

“Little Satan,” said Johann softly, leaning down to the puppy and holding out his hand. The animal cautiously walked up to him and licked his palm. It tickled, and Johann couldn’t help but smile.

“Thank you,” he said to Karl. “I . . . I’ll never forget this.” He cleared his throat, which felt awfully dry. He realized that he hadn’t uttered a word in days.

Karl shrugged, his eyes flickered, and he looked down. “To be honest, I don’t like dogs very much. But I was looking for a gift for you, and the pup seemed like a sign from God.”

Johann picked up the little creature and patted it. “A sign from God?”

“Don’t you know, Master?” Karl said with a grin. “It’s Christmas Eve. I wish you a merry Christmas!”

Outside, the snow continued to fall.

In hindsight, Johann thought that Karl’s return had also been a sign from God. He had been only a second away from ending his life—on the day of Christ’s birth. But the little puppy and Karl’s return gave him renewed hope. Johann remembered how sad it had been to spend Christmas at the tower alone with Tonio while the church bells of the village tolled in the distance. This time, the two men were drinking sweet Rhenish wine and eating pickled eggs and ham. Even the pup got a few mouthfuls.

Johann liked the idea of calling him Little Satan, just as if the old Satan was living on inside this pup. And the young dog lived up to its name: it destroyed pillows, chewed on chair legs, and ruined the fabric of the valuable four-poster bed. It was clear he’d be a very vivacious dog. During the days following Christmas, he and Johann formed a strong bond. Little Satan would lie on his lap while Johann once more studied books for answers to his questions; the dog played around Johann’s feet when he gazed at the stars from atop the tower. Johann now allowed Karl on the platform, too. Together they watched the constellations of the winter sky.

“The stars are much brighter in the winter,” explained Johann on New Year’s Eve. “Do you see the winter hexagon over there? Sirius, Pollux, and Procyon in Canis Minor. If you look through the tube, you’ll see more constellations behind it—constellations we would never see with our bare eyes.”

Karl stared through the tube into the night sky; his jaw dropped with amazement. “There are so many,” he muttered. “And there are more and more behind them. The sky is endless.”

“Yes. It’s enough to make you dizzy.”

“Ha!” Karl cried out with surprise. “I saw a shooting star! My mother—God rest her soul—always used to say I could make a wish if I saw one.”

“Well, then, make a wish,” said Johann with a smile. “But don’t tell me—that would bring misfortune.”

Karl shot a quick look at him before shaking his head with a sigh. “What I wish for won’t come true anyhow.” He turned back to the tube. “The shooting star has already disappeared. I wonder where it is now?”

“I heard