The Master's Apprentice - Oliver Potzsch Page 0,226

eventually. “Greta told me today that a man had persuaded her to go to the river, where she found the dead boy. Someone wanted her to be there. Why? Because the authorities needed a scapegoat? But then why a fourteen-year-old girl—why not a midwife or someone like that who normally gets accused of witchcraft?” He shook his head. “There are so many odd parts to this story. Why Greta? Why has she been sitting down there for so long without being tortured and without a trial? Something isn’t right, but I just can’t figure out what.”

He would have liked to pat Little Satan, because he always felt calmer when the dog sat on his lap. But Little Satan had broken a paw when the prison keeper kicked him. Johann had put the leg in a splint and given the dog a little theriac, and now the animal slept peacefully inside the room the commander had assigned to Johann and Karl.

No one said anything for a while. Eventually, Valentin cleared his throat.

“I’m going to get the keys from the city hall for us,” he said. “And I think I know the ideal time to break into the prison.” He paused. “In four days.”

“Why in four days?” asked Karl.

“It’ll be the night before the Nuremberg Schembartlauf, a carnival parade where many citizens wear masks and get drunk before the start of Lent. The guards won’t be as vigilant as usual, especially in the early hours of the morning.”

“In four days’ time.” Johann nodded. “It’s agreed.” He looked at Valentin, who was sitting hunched over at the table. “Pray that I return with Greta.”

“If you think you’re going alone, you’re mistaken,” replied Valentin. “I may be a cripple, but I’m not going to let you free Greta on your own. I’m getting the keys, so I’m coming.”

“If that is what you wish,” said Johann with a sad smile. “I can hardly tie you up here.” Deep down he was happy Valentin would be coming along. They’d need all the help they could get.

For a few moments the library was silent; somewhere outside, a solitary raven cawed. Then Karl gave a desperate chuckle.

“So . . . you’re saying you’re actually going to crawl through those dark passages? And then? Are you going to frighten off the guards with magic tricks?”

“Something like that,” said Johann, standing up. “You heard it—we still have four days. Plenty of time to make plans and preparations.”

The next few days were frenzied. Each night, Johann stood atop the spire of Saint Jakob’s Church and watched the stars, which now almost matched their position on the day of his birth. Jupiter was nearly in the same sign as the sun, but the comet hadn’t appeared yet. Could his calculations be wrong? Johann knew there could always be slight deviations, but he was all but certain that Larua would appear in the sky very soon.

Perhaps even precisely on the date of Greta’s liberation.

During the days, Johann was running about town procuring things. Most of what he needed he found with merchants on the main square or at the craftsmen’s quarter. When he wasn’t on an errand, he roamed the lanes aimlessly, thinking and pondering until his plan took shape. Outside Frauenkirche Church on the market square at midday, he watched the Männleinlaufen—with the strike of the bell, a mechanical clock moved a procession of the seven prince electors around a figure of the Holy Roman emperor high above the portal—a never-ending circle. Johann felt like he, too, was coming full circle. In contrast to his usual habits, he even prayed. He visited the famous Lorenz Church with its heavily adorned western portal, sat down in one of the rear pews, and asked God for help as soft light fell through the stained-glass windows.

Lord, I have committed many sins in my life. I mocked you and I doubted you. Please help me to free my daughter. I swear I will watch over her for the rest of my life.

He imagined Greta huddled on her cot right now, afraid and confused because Johann and Valentin weren’t visiting anymore. The Loch keeper had ensured that neither of them was allowed at the prison any longer. But Johann wanted to avoid the city hall in any case—he didn’t want anything to happen at the last moment. Another child had vanished the previous day, down by river, near the hangman’s house this time. The residents of Nuremberg were growing more upset. People whispered in the streets, and