The Master's Apprentice - Oliver Potzsch Page 0,2

killed the children. Others said there were hungry and ruthless outlaws living in the woods who preferred the tender flesh of children to that of poached deer. Someone had seen smoke rise up from the edge of the distant forest on the hills; apparently, a whiff of burning meat had been in the air.

Johann clenched his teeth and silently stared at the jugglers on stage. Suddenly the smell from the street kitchens made him feel sick.

Burning meat . . .

A murmur went through the crowd, rousing him from his thoughts. Margarethe squeezed his hand, and he gave another start. He shuddered and couldn’t tell whether it was because of Margarethe’s touch or because of the missing children.

Or because of him.

“Didn’t I tell you?” whispered Margarethe. “Just look at him! He must be straight from hell.”

The man stepping onto the stage indeed looked like a demon incarnate. He was tall and haggard and wore a black-and-red-striped coat billowing behind him like the wings of a bat. His face was as pale as though there was no blood in him, his nose sharp like the beak of a bird of prey. He wore a wide black felt hat with a red feather, like those of traveling scholars.

Most frightening of all were his eyes, gleaming black and deep like pools in a swamp. To Johann they seemed like the eyes of a man much older than their owner seemed to be. When those eyes moved across the crowd, everyone fell silent. For a brief moment, Johann thought he could feel the man’s gaze like fingers reaching out to touch him. Then the strange man slowly and ceremoniously raised his head and looked up at the cloudy sky. A light drizzle set in.

“The stars,” he began in a voice that was at once quiet and penetrating, audible across the whole church square. His accent was slightly foreign, soft, like that of travelers from beyond the Rhine.

“The stars don’t lie! They’re invisible during the day, and yet they are there. They shine above us, guide our path—a path that has been predestined for each one of us.” He paused dramatically, his eyes moving across the crowd again. “Ah oui, c’est vrai! I can read those paths for you. I am a master of the seven arts and keeper of the seven times seven seals! I’m a doctor of the university of black magic in Krakow.”

“A sorcerer,” Margarethe whispered. “I knew it!”

Johann said nothing and waited for the mysterious stranger to continue. The man now addressed his audience with his arms outstretched, like a priest.

“Is there anyone who would like to know their future?” he asked loudly. “One kreuzer per question.” He gave a thin smile. “If I foretell your imminent death, the answer is free.”

A few people laughed, but it sounded hollow and nervous. A tense silence had descended upon the square. Finally a young, sturdy farmer’s son raised his arm, and the foreigner asked him up on stage.

“What would you like to know?” asked the magician as the trembling young man handed over a coin.

“I, well . . . ,” the peasant said awkwardly. “My Elsbeth and me, we’ve been together for over a year. But the dear Lord still hasn’t granted us a child. I’d like to know if fate will smile upon us.”

The foreigner took the man’s hand, which was calloused from laboring in the fields, and bent over it. Johann thought it looked as though he sniffed the hand, even licked and tasted it like an animal would a salty rock. A considerable amount of time passed as the magician ran his fingers across the young man’s palm, murmuring almost inaudibly. Finally he straightened back up.

“Your wife is going to carry your child before next spring. And it will be a boy! He’ll be healthy and strong, born under the constellation of Pisces. The stars have spoken!”

The strange man raised his hands and—seemingly out of nowhere—a black raven flew up into the sky. The crowd gasped with surprise, and somewhere at the back, an elderly maidservant fainted.

Bowing and scraping, the farmer’s son left the stage, and another nervous client took his place. Johann watched with excitement as the creepy stranger foretold a good harvest, a successful house build, the best day for sowing, and three more healthy sons and daughters for Knittlingen. Two crows flew up from his previously empty hand, playing cards with mysterious blood-red symbols tumbled to the ground out of nowhere, and he pulled a real black cat