When she arrived at the small, ivy-covered church, Greta looked around but couldn’t see John anywhere. He had found the old building a few days before their reunion. It formed the perfect hideout for the two of them, also offering shelter from the area’s frequent April cloudbursts. Of course, Greta didn’t tell her father about where she was going and who she was meeting, and neither had she told Karl. She was afraid that they would advise her not to go.
She entered the quiet church, with its plain stone altar and the cross carved from cherrywood. Sunlight streamed through the broken windows.
Someone gave a cough very close to her, and Little Satan barked wildly.
“My fair young lady,” said a familiar voice.
Greta spun around with fright and looked into John’s smiling face. It wasn’t the first time he’d played this game with her. His ability to sneak up on her was uncanny. Not even the dog had noticed him at first.
“Oh, John!” She rolled her eyes. “Didn’t I tell you not to frighten me so? Like a thief in the night.”
“I am a thief, remember?” He winked at her and raised his arms apologetically. “But all right—I won’t do it again. Promise.”
“Why is it that promises from your mouth never sound very convincing?” She laughed and fell into his arms as if they hadn’t seen each other in weeks, though they’d only been apart for one night.
Greta unfolded the cloth she had used to wrap up a loaf of bread and some cheese. John helped himself hungrily. He had almost used up all his money. She sometimes wondered how he could still be so cheerful. He had lost his crew and his boat, but he seemed unafraid of the future.
“What is the news from the big, wide world?” he asked between mouthfuls, wiping his lips. “What is the master painting? Any new inventions? How about some sort of flying machine that can take us away from here?”
She gave a sad smile. “You know that Leonardo doesn’t really see me. To him, I’m just some young thing. He probably thinks I’m Johann’s maid.”
Greta hadn’t explained the real reason for their visit to Amboise. She had told John that Johann simply wanted to see the famous Leonardo da Vinci—two great men meeting as equals. She hadn’t told John that she was his daughter, either. He assumed that she was some distant niece.
“A maid? Ha!” John opened his eyes wide. “You’re a princess.” He bowed to her. “Your Highness, will you please allow me to whisk you away to someplace where we can start together afresh?”
She laughed. “With pleasure!”
“Then why don’t we? Your uncle can look after himself, and there’s always his handsome assistant. If he doesn’t want to give his permission, you just go without it. What’s stopping you?”
“You . . . you don’t understand.” Greta didn’t fully understand it herself. She wanted to leave but couldn’t bring herself to do it. She had been traveling with Johann and Karl for so many years, and even after she learned that he’d lied to her for the longest time and that he was to blame for her mother’s death, she found that she couldn’t now abandon her father. She felt with certainty that if she left him now, she would never see him again.
Because he will probably die soon if Leonardo da Vinci doesn’t find a solution, she thought. And a solution doesn’t seem likely.
“Then explain it to me,” demanded John. “Why don’t you?”
“Another time.” She kissed him, and Little Satan watched with interest as they sank onto the stone floor of the church. Greta wondered for a moment whether it was a sin to make love beneath a cross, but then she pushed her thoughts aside and focused on John’s lips.
Still, deep down she knew that soon she would have to tell John the real reason for their visit to Amboise.
Her father had made a pact with the devil.
During the following days, Leonardo da Vinci’s health worsened noticeably. He grew weaker and slept much. Now he spent hardly any time in his atelier, where a number of his paintings remained unfinished. Among the paintings in the room was also the one of the beautiful woman with the strangely wistful, knowing smile. Johann sometimes wondered if it wasn’t Leonardo himself smiling on that canvas, as if he was guarding a secret that no one else knew.
Following the dissection in the shed, they had closed the body, carefully sewing it up, and placed it back in the coffin. No matter how much Johann had asked and urged, Leonardo hadn’t uttered another word about the devil or the disease, and Johann still puzzled over the old man’s hints.
The devil is a good businessman. He always returns for his share.
Evidently, Satan sometimes made deals with people. He allowed them to achieve extraordinary things—but at some point they had to pay the price. Just like Johann, and like Leonardo. And yet the old man seemed relaxed, at peace, toward the end of his life. Had it something to do with his final remark?
But by God, you can cheat him good.
What did Leonardo mean by that? Was there a way out after all? Years ago, at Nuremberg, Johann had cheated Tonio. Johann’s best friend, Valentin, had sacrificed himself for him and Greta. Had Leonardo managed to arrange something similar?
And would Johann manage to do it again?
His hopes waned by the day. The library doors remained locked and the walks in the garden gradually ceased. Johann wondered whether he had disappointed Leonardo. Why did the old man always speak in riddles? To test his wit? Leonardo’s comments during the
