The Master's Apprentice - Oliver Potzsch Page 0,224

the murders—he only wanted to free his daughter and get out of Nuremberg as fast as he could.

With the help of the commander’s connections and some silver coins, Johann and Valentin managed to visit Greta most days. A few times Johann even went alone. He brought playing cards, coins, and colorful leather balls to show her all the juggling tricks he used to perform for her mother. He hoped it would distract Greta from the horror she was going through. The girl always loved it when he made her doll speak or coins appear from her ears.

But what she loved the most was Little Satan.

For a pile of hush money, the prison keeper allowed Johann to bring in the dog. Little Satan sniffed at the privy bucket, jumped onto the small bed, and licked Greta’s face until she laughed. When he’d calmed down, he let her pat him while he sat quietly on her lap.

“I’ve always wanted a dog,” she said. “But Uncle Valentin says the commander wouldn’t allow it.”

“He’s probably afraid the dog will make a mess in the great hall.” Johann smiled. “If you teach him properly, you might be allowed to keep one someday.”

Suddenly Greta looked very serious. “The guards say that I’m a witch. And that I’m going to burn at the stake. I’m scared, Johann! Does it hurt to burn?”

“You . . . you’re not going to burn.” Johann swallowed hard. “Because you haven’t done anything wrong.”

“But they say that I’m a witch.” Greta started to cry, and Johann’s heart broke. “And I didn’t even do anything! I was just by the river, by the bridge near the Hospital of the Holy Ghost, and then there was that dead little boy, and there was blood everywhere.” She sobbed. “It was horrible! And I didn’t even want to go to the river. But the man told me to go.”

“The man?” Johann straightened up. Valentin had never mentioned this before. “What man?”

“I don’t know. He wore a black coat and he . . . he was so dark, as dark as the night. And his eyes . . . his eyes looked like they were on fire, like glowing pieces of coal. He told me there were children playing down by the river and that there was music and food. When I got there, there was no one except for the dead boy under the bridge.” Greta’s eyes looked empty and her hands shook as she stroked the dog. “Then the guards came and found that thing in my pocket. A stinking ram’s horn. They said the devil gave it to me.”

“And he probably did,” muttered Johann to himself. He shuddered.

His eyes . . . like glowing pieces of coal . . .

He, too, had seen such a man, first in Erfurt and then on the way to Hamburg. Evidently, someone had sent Greta to the dead boy on purpose, and the same man probably slipped the ram’s horn into her pocket. But why? This case was getting stranger by the day.

Johann said nothing for a while, watching Little Satan snuggle with Greta. The dog rested his head in her lap as if he’d known her forever.

“You’re not a witch,” said Johann eventually. He rose to his feet when they heard the heavy steps of the prison keeper. It was time to go. “You’re not a witch,” he repeated. “And I promise I will get you out of here.” He forced himself to smile. “Don’t forget—I’m a magician. Nothing is impossible for a magician.”

He hugged her so tightly that he felt Greta’s pounding heart under her dress. He gave her one last smile on his way out and hoped she didn’t notice the fear in his eyes.

On his way down the corridor, Johann continued to think about what Greta had just told him. A man in black with glowing red eyes had sent her to the bridge. It must have been a trick of her childish imagination, just like he once thought a scarecrow was a man on the way to Hamburg. Nature sometimes played nasty tricks on one’s mind. It would be very strange indeed if someone had wanted Greta to find the body under the bridge. Who would want an innocent girl to be arrested as a witch?

Deep in thought, Johann didn’t notice that Little Satan had run ahead. He startled when he heard wild barking and shouts in front of him. In the vaulted room at the end of the corridor, some guards were