“Shouldn’t a house of God always be open?” Johann asked Father Jerome on the second day following their arrival, as they stood in front of the shelves in the library. Even though temperatures outside were summery and muggy, it was pleasantly cool behind the castle’s thick walls. Once again the priest had appeared out of nowhere like a ghost. Johann wondered if there were secret doors in the library. This castle appeared to be one big secret.
“Parts of the church are currently under repair,” explained Father Jerome with a shrug. “It is too dangerous to allow believers inside unaccompanied.”
“Strange—I didn’t notice any repairs during the service,” replied Johann.
“They can’t be seen from the nave. But the building is still . . . unsafe.” Father Jerome’s smile always looked somewhat predatory in his pockmarked face. “Very much so, believe me.” He made a sweeping gesture at the shelves full of dusty books, folders, and parchment scrolls. “You like our humble library? Maybe you’ll find something on your mysterious illness.”
“I don’t know about that, but I have found some very rare works. Roger Bacon’s Opus Majus, for example, and some older writs by Albertus Magnus. As you can see, my assistant is smitten.” Johann nodded in the direction of Karl, who was sitting at a desk with his glasses on his nose, engrossed in a heavy tome that was chained to the table. “All these are works, by the way, which I had the pleasure of admiring in another library, too,” continued Johann evenly. “That was in Venice a long time ago, at the house of a certain Signore Barbarese. I don’t suppose you know him?”
Father Jerome’s smile froze. “I’m afraid I don’t.”
“Pity. I think you would have liked him, even if his attitude toward the church was . . . well, peculiar. He always followed his motto, Homo Deus est. Have you heard it before?”
“‘Man is God’? I don’t imagine the church would have liked that.” Father Jerome frowned. “Although it is a tempting thought. What if man, not God, steered the fate of the world?”
“Or someone else,” suggested Johann. “Oh, by the way, I noticed that there are no Christian works whatsoever in this library. Not even a Bible.”
“They must all be in the church. It contains its own library. Would you like me to have some pious works brought to you? For prayer and reflection? I believe we own some highly edifying chapters by Saint Francis that might be of help.”
Johann shook his head. “I don’t believe that will be necessary. I hope your lord will speak to me when he’s ready.”
“We shall see.” Father Jerome bowed his head and left the library.
Thus the days passed. They didn’t see Hagen and his mercenaries again. Johann and the priest circled one another like two old beasts of prey, both waiting for the other to take the fatal leap. The daily routine at the castle went on, and every night Johann and Karl gave the light signals from Johann’s window. On the evening of the fifth day, when they sat in the great hall with the steward and the chaplain, Father Jerome addressed Johann after their meal. He seemed to have waited for Sir Albert to fall asleep after his fourth goblet of wine. Johann thought the steward looked even more deeply asleep than usual.
“I have good news, Doctor,” said Father Jerome. “I prayed at church for a long time today, and a miracle happened. The lord spoke to me!” He leaned forward, and his voice became quiet and hissing like the whisper of a snake. “And he wants to speak with you. He wants to see you.”
“When?” asked Johann, pushing his plate away.
Father Jerome winked at him. “This very night. We have prepared a special mass for the occasion.” He glanced at the snoring steward. “Unfortunately, Sir Albert won’t be able to attend, as you can see. But there’ll be other guests, and they look forward to making your acquaintance. You are a famous man, Doctor Faustus.” The priest stood up. “I still have much to prepare for mass. I expect both of you in the church at midnight sharp.”
A short while later, Johann paced his room restlessly. At regular intervals, the bell of the town’s church chimed a quarter of a mile away, its heavy, dull sound announcing the slow passing of time. Nine o’clock, ten o’clock, eleven o’clock. The wait seemed to drag on endlessly.
Johann had asked Karl to leave him for a little while; he wanted to rest and prepare himself for what was to come. But he struggled to form any clear thoughts. He had been waiting for this moment for so long. Now he would finally face Tonio. What the two of them had begun many years ago with a pact would reach its conclusion, one way or another.
When he walked to the window and gazed into the night, he saw dots of light moving from town toward the bridge and the gate. Torches and lanterns, glowing like yellow fireflies. Johann guessed they belonged to the mysterious guests Father Jerome had invited to this mass.
The meeting with Tonio del Moravia, Johann’s former master.
Every fiber of Johann’s body quivered with anticipation, almost as if he were about to make love. Tonio was his enemy and more. He was Johann’s alpha and omega; everything had started with him and everything would end with him. Johann felt certain: the disease Tonio had sent him was supposed to bring him to this place, to this moment in time. Strangely, he could even move his arm again a little. He couldn’t tell whether that was because of the old midwife’s cream or because of Tonio’s proximity.
Behind him, the thin door opened and Karl entered.
“Did you manage to get some rest?” When Johann shook his head, Karl smiled. “I didn’t think you would. I, too, can’t stop wondering what to expect
