do you propose we do now?” asked Karl. “Even if Greta is somewhere inside that wagon, you can’t just climb up there and—hey!”
He broke off when Johann stormed toward the elephant.
The train of Schembart runners arrived from a lane next to Frauenkirche Church and was received with much fanfare. The main square was so full that Johann struggled to get through. Several of the jugglers also arrived on the square and showed their tricks and acts. The elephant swayed like a reed in the wind among all the people, and the costumed men atop the tower threw small treats into the crowd. They grabbed the treats out of the pack of the witch, who stared at the people below from nasty little eyes. Again the cannons were lit and spat out red fire.
Johann pushed through the crowd; he was close to the elephant now, but he still hadn’t figured out what to do next. He was certain that Greta must be somewhere inside the structure, probably bound and gagged. He didn’t think the masked men had had an opportunity to get her away yet. But what was he supposed to do? Karl was right. He couldn’t climb the tower on his own, especially since it was guarded by several costumed men—and he couldn’t be sure the men weren’t Tonio’s.
Unsure of what to do next, he paused just a few steps away from the elephant. Then, suddenly, a horde of colorfully clad soldiers in slit trousers approached from the direction where the Schembart runners had entered the square. They yelled and shouted as they carried ladders toward the elephant. Johann startled. Yelling soldiers, like in battle? Was he having another fever dream? But then he remembered what Karl had told him earlier.
At the end they storm the elephant.
Those soldiers were part of the show. They were going to storm hell.
When the men ran past them, accompanied by the cheers and hoots of the crowd, Johann joined them. He saw from the corner of his eye that Karl had caught up to him, his face a grimace of fear and determination. Johann was surprised the soldiers let them run along just like that, but then he caught another glimpse of the preacher atop the tower. The men probably thought he and Karl were also in costume.
Screaming and shouting wildly, the false mercenaries braced their ladders against the elephant and started to scale its sides. The masked men at the top bombarded them with treats and lit their cannons again and again until Johann’s ears were ringing. Panting, he struggled to climb one of the ladders when he noticed that a man at the top had started to push it away from the elephant. The ladder swayed dangerously and almost toppled, but Karl managed to hold it and started to climb up himself.
Johann studied the elephant as he climbed the rungs of the ladder. It was made of wood and linen that had been painted gray, and attached to the feet were wheels on which the giant contraption could be moved through the city. He estimated there was enough room in the elephant’s belly for a person, if not several. If there was an access point to the belly, then it was probably in the tower, which was about two paces taller than the top of the elephant.
Johann and Karl reached the top of the ladder and climbed over the balustrade surrounding the tower. Several soldiers had also reached the top, and they waved to the crowd, who celebrated them as conquerors. The priest with the letters of indulgence squirmed in the arms of a mercenary, squealing like a pig and rolling his eyes, and the crowd hooted with laughter. The hunchbacked witch still stood motionless, staring into the crowd.
The tower swayed under the weight of all the people; it wouldn’t be long before it toppled. Johann unsteadily crept toward an artificial arch made of thin, painted wood that led inside the tower. The archway wasn’t quite three feet high. Johann peered inside but couldn’t see any way into the belly of the elephant. He slammed his fist against the wall with disappointment and ripped the linen.
Damn!
Suddenly his idea seemed absurd to him, the spawn of a fever dream. How could he have thought Greta would be in here? The masked men had probably taken her away long ago—perhaps she wasn’t even in the city anymore.
Perhaps she’s already dead.
Johann’s good hand clutched the linen, and it ripped further. He had been forcing the