The Master's Apprentice - Oliver Potzsch Page 0,32

heart on it and give it to Johann or Margarethe.

Martin knew the best sticks wouldn’t be in the middle of the clearing but near the edge, where the forest began. He was walking toward a gnarly old oak when he heard an unusual sound. He paused and listened.

It was the sound of a willow whistle.

Martin knew willow whistles because he’d once made one with Johann. But he’d never extracted such heavenly tunes from it. The whistle he was hearing now played a soft melody, cheerful and sad at the same time.

It came from somewhere in the forest, not far from him.

Martin hesitated for a moment, then he entered the woods and immediately noticed how much darker it was than in the clearing. Again he heard the melody, but this time it seemed to come from another direction.

Martin was afraid, but at the same time he wanted to find out where the melody came from and who played it. With grim determination he clutched his little knife tightly and walked deeper into the forest. He didn’t dare to call out. A strange magic lay in the air; the trees seemed to bend down to him like friendly, curious giants.

The whistle sounded very near now.

Martin closed his eyes for a moment. What a wonderful melody! It almost sounded as if his mother were singing by his bed. He hoped the song would never end.

Susie, dear Susie, what’s rustling in the straw?

’Tis the little goslings, they don’t have any shoes.

Susie, dear Susie, what’s rustling—

There was a cracking sound and the melody broke off.

“What—?” he just managed to say.

Then Martin knew that the boogeyman was real.

And it was much worse than in his nightmares.

Johann and Margarethe were lying in the cave, where it was dark and cozy. The moss-covered ground made for a soft bed. They lay close together and Johann trembled all over, although he hoped Margarethe wouldn’t notice.

“Now I can tell you,” Margarethe whispered and leaned over him. Her hair tickled his nose. There was so little space in the cave that her breasts were pressed against his chest. “I didn’t want to come here because of the missing children, but because of you.”

“B . . . because of me?”

Margarethe chuckled. “You stammer like your little brother. Don’t act more foolish than you really are! Didn’t you notice the girls’ looks at the fair? I think it’s time we gave them something to gossip about.” She brought her lips close to his. “You’ve tried to kiss me twice before. It’s now or never.”

Johann turned crimson with embarrassment and didn’t know what to say. But he didn’t need to say anything. Margarethe kissed his lips. She tasted so sweet, sweeter than honey or apples. They embraced tightly while she continued to kiss and caress him. Margarethe took his hand and placed it on her bosom, which had grown considerably in the last year.

“Touch me here,” she breathed.

Johann didn’t need to be told twice. At first he stroked her very gently, but then he pushed his hand under her bodice. He touched her nipples, which were hard with excitement. A shiver went through Margarethe’s body.

“That’s good,” she whispered. “You’re the first to touch me like that, you know. I’ve always loved you, Johann. From the moment I first saw you. You’re so . . . so different. There’s something great inside you—I can feel it.” Then she chuckled again and her hand traveled to his codpiece. “I wasn’t talking about that.”

Johann tried to turn away in embarrassment, but she held him. “It’s all right, Johann. It’s all right.”

They stroked and kissed each other, and Margarethe proved to be the more adventurous one. “If I must be engaged soon, at least I want to know what to do,” she said softly. “It’s my gift to you. But I must remain a virgin—we have to be careful.”

Johann closed his eyes and let it happen. His fingers moved instinctively, sliding under her skirt and between her legs. She opened her thighs with a soft moan.

“My Johann,” she whispered. “My Faustus . . .”

All his dreams seemed to come true at once. He loved Margarethe and she loved him back! What could keep them apart now? Perhaps they’d convince her father to break off the engagement, or perhaps he’d simply run away with Margarethe and Martin. Anything was possible!

They kissed, licked, and tasted each other in the most intimate, forbidden places. While Margarethe stroked him, he let his fingers circle, playfully at first, then more and more urging,