The Master's Apprentice - Oliver Potzsch Page 0,52

master’s hand was like a blank page. Didn’t he say that every person was readable, that everyone had those lines?

Tonio quickly withdrew his hand and grinned. “Don’t worry. You’ll soon get an opportunity to practice your skills. You shall read someone’s hand in the next village—a simple peasant, perhaps.” He pushed the book toward Johann. “Now memorize the lines and mounts well. You have until the candle burns out. Then we’ll sleep and get out of this filthy hole first thing.”

Johann leaned over the book and studied the lines and their names while the master watched him thoughtfully. Sometimes Johann asked a question and Tonio answered curtly. Hours passed. Eventually, the flame started to flicker, gave one last jerk, and died. Darkness descended over the chamber, and Johann closed the book and lay down. It had felt so good to read and learn something new, like he used to do at the monastery. His hunger for knowledge was insatiable, and there was so much the master could teach him. Johann thanked God for sending him to the southeast when he hadn’t known which way to turn, so that he ended up meeting Tonio del Moravia.

He woke up once during the night to find the master sitting by his bed, stroking his hand and watching him with piercing black eyes as if looking deep inside him. Johann wanted to sit up, but Tonio held him back.

“Sleep, young Faustus, sleep,” he whispered. “We’ll know more about each other soon. All in good time.”

Johann wanted to get up, wanted to ask the master a hundred questions, so many things he’d just thought of in his dreams. But he was overcome by exhaustion so strong that he sank back onto his cushion and was instantly asleep.

Later in the night, the master stood up and walked over to the cage with the crows and the raven. As usual, when their master approached, they beat their wings and squawked—it was hard to tell whether out of fear or excitement. Johann tossed and turned on his bed at the other end of the room, but he didn’t wake. Deep in thought, the master pulled a few bits of dried meat from his pouch and tossed them to the birds.

“The boy is truly astounding,” he murmured. “Smart and thirsty for knowledge. And those lines . . .” He shook his head. “Maybe our search really is coming to an end. It’s possible. The stars can’t lie. Or can they? Baphomet, Azazel, Belial—”

The raven pecked at him, and the master quickly pulled his fingers out of the cage.

“Ouch! How dare you, you bastard?”

A few drops of blood fell to the ground and disappeared in the straw. The bird stared at his master expectantly with his small yellow eyes.

“Lousy beast!” hissed Tonio and licked the blood off his finger. “You can’t bear the fact that you failed, Baphomet. That he might be the right one. But you had your chance, and it wasn’t you. Now shoo!”

Tonio hit the cage. The raven flapped about wildly, attacking the iron bars with his beak.

“Kraa!” called the raven, and it sounded almost human. “Kraa! Kraa!”

But the master wasn’t perturbed. He looked over to Johann, who was twitching in his sleep.

“I think it’s a good idea to go to the tower with him,” he said pensively. “What do you think? We’ll have all the time we need there. And we’ve got to stock up on our provisions, and I’ll be able to hunt there. The meat is rather tough and stale by now.”

He put one of the brown lumps between his teeth and started to chew.

“Oh yes, we need fresh provisions.”

It would be two more days before Johann was allowed to read his first palm.

The next morning, the storm had passed and they left the Black Eagle. They didn’t see Freudenreich again, but when they stepped through the gate, the master turned back one more time. His lips formed silent words, and then he leaned down and placed three black pieces of coal in the snow outside the threshold.

“What are you doing?” asked Johann.

“I’m leaving a message for other jugglers and magicians,” Tonio replied. He stood up and wiped the soot off his hands. “No winter quarters to be had here. Saves everyone the argument and disappointment.”

He climbed onto the box seat and cracked his whip. Johann turned back to look at the inn one last time. Dark clouds were gathering above it, like the fists of an angry god. In front of them, however,