The Master's Apprentice - Oliver Potzsch Page 0,45

why I need a trickster.”

“A trickster?” Johann gave him a puzzled look.

“Sacre bleu! Don’t you know anything? I thought you were a juggler.” Tonio sighed. “There are different occupations among jugglers.” He counted on his fingers. “Musicians, jugglers who actually juggle, goliards, false alchemists, bear tamers, tightrope walkers, and tricksters. They are young, cocky jesters who know the small tricks. Coin tricks, cups and balls—all those things. It will be your task to gain the people’s attention. You’re short and scrawny, but your voice is strong enough, as I heard at the tavern. Can you play the bagpipe?”

Johann shook his head. He’d never learned an instrument. He thought he wasn’t very musical at all.

“You’ll learn,” said Tonio. “The bagpipe is the loudest instrument and easy to master. Whoever plays it draws the people in like with a magic flute.” He grinned. “Even if it doesn’t sound quite as beautiful. We’ll start tomorrow.”

“I . . . I’m supposed to travel with you?” asked Johann slowly.

“You finally got it?” The magician laughed. “By the devil, yes! I saved your life, and now you shall serve me for one year, as a test and without pay. After that time, we’ll see. The pact is valid until I dismiss you.” Tonio tilted his head to one side and eyed Johann. “You can’t go back home, I can see it in your face. And traveling by yourself means certain death. Either you starve or you’ll get butchered. So, what do you say? You’ll fare well with me. You’ll be amazed to learn what life holds in store for you. Shake on it.”

The magician held out his hand. Johann thought of the last time he’d shaken Tonio’s hand. The tall, haggard man with the felt hat still frightened him immensely. But did he have a choice? He had no money, and Tonio was right: he was doomed on his own. Besides, he felt almost magically drawn to Tonio, and the feeling was old and familiar.

It stemmed from his childhood, when he’d seen the magician for the first time.

He clasped Tonio’s hand. The man’s grip was viselike, and he held Johann’s hand for so long that Johann gave a little cry of pain. It felt like the magician was squeezing the blood from his hand. Tonio smiled, and once again he reminded Johann of a wolf.

“Welcome to life on the road,” Tonio said. “Our pact is sealed.”

Johann pulled back his throbbing hand. “You said earlier that the year was a test,” he said. “What if I don’t prove worthy, if I don’t live up to your expectations? If I don’t pass your test?”

“Well, it’s just like with eggs,” Tonio replied and reached for the brown speckled egg in front of him. He held it in his fist. “Some withstand the pressure, while others . . .” He clenched his fist. There was a crack, and yellow yolk ran through his fingers and dripped into the flames. “Others crumble under it.”

He wiped his hand on the ground as easily as he’d wiped the blood off his dagger earlier. Then he reached into the basket and started to cut the bacon.

“But now let’s eat and drink. Oh, and one more thing.” The magician held up his knife like a teacher’s pointer. “From now on, you call me master. Understood?” He smiled. “And believe me—you will learn much from me.”

Act II

Tonio the Sorcerer

5

THE FOLLOWING WEEKS were the most exhausting of Johann’s life. Instead of returning to the road, the two men stayed in the forest. The weather was too awful for travel anyhow. The road had turned into a mud pit with wheel ruts deep as ponds. While the rain and sometimes hailstones as large as pigeon eggs beat against the canvas, Tonio made Johann show him every trick he knew. Usually the magician merely gave a bored wave or corrected Johann with a growl. Tonio was a tough master, not tolerating any sloppiness or the tiniest mistake.

“You call that a trick, damn it?” he snarled and struck Johann with a cane. “I saw the coin in your hand! One more time—and roll up your sleeves, for God’s sake. Or do you want them to call you a swindler in the next village and string you up? I won’t help you again!”

Johann got beaten on his second and third attempts, too. The same happened when he performed his card tricks—even those he’d thought he could do with his eyes closed. Tired, hungry, and sick from days of being cold and