Luthier's Apprentice, The (22 page)

“Yes, that was given to Paganini as part of the pact. But it wasn’t purple. Sonia turned it purple and changed other things after she got the power from him,” her mom said. “The portals existed back then as well; the only connection between the luthiers and the forest. Since no time existed in this parallel world, Niccolò was able to keep his young appearance and immortality. He could still exist in the real world, but only for short periods at a time.”

“Who decided who the next luthier would be?” Emma asked.

“That was easy to tell,” Aunt Lili said, looking straight at Emma.

“The ‘chosen’ man or woman was born with double-jointed fingers,” Grandpa cut in, looking at Emma. He stretched his fingers and stared at them thoughtfully.

Emma did the same with her hands. The sight of her own fingers made her feel pride and revulsion at the same time. As if guessing her thoughts, her mom, who was sitting next to her, gave her a gentle hug.

“But to answer your first question,” Aunt Lili continued, “after several generations some of the women in the family developed psychic powers. Some of the women could predict future events, some could move objects with their minds—telekinesis, as it is called. In the beginning it was subtle, but the power increased with each generation. What’s more, it had nothing to do with playing the violin or becoming an apprentice.”

“But why did women in the family begin to have this power?” Emma asked.

“My guess is that this power developed as a reaction to what was happening in the family. There was a lot of anger as mothers saw their children cursed to become luthiers. They were outraged at what Niccolò had done, outraged at the way the apprentice had to get the special wood to make the violins. After all, these violins were honoring an evil pact, were made
for
the devil. Some of the women believed that one day, as their power increased, they would be able to undo the pact. Maybe this power was given to us by God.”

“There’s something else too,” her mom interjected. “The women noticed that their power increased if more than one woman with the power were together.”

“Like me and Aunt Lili,” Emma said, taking a sip of hot chocolate.

“Exactly.” Aunt Lili nodded. “All through the decades, Niccolò pretty much ignored us, but when Sonia came, things changed. She didn’t want to take any chances, so after she realized I had the psychic abilities she kidnapped me and took me to her world to isolate me. Her plan was to get rid of everybody who posed a threat. I was the most powerful psychic the family tree ever had—and I swore to the heavens I would destroy the pact.” She sighed. “Unfortunately, the dark magic in her world was so strong I soon grew weak. She played with my mind and gave me potions to damage my health. Niccolò…” Aunt Lili stopped for a moment, her eyes sad and distant. “I know it sounds odd and even unbelievable, but Niccolò became my only friend. This destroyed me. How could I love a man who had sold his soul to the devil? I was devastated. I had succumbed to evil. I began to think that I, too, was evil. But now I know that’s not true.” She turned to Emma. “Our powers come from good, not evil. Never doubt that.” Aunt Lili sighed and leaned back against the chair.

“Once Sonia got the power from Niccolò as a result of that poker game, she took it one step further,” her mom said. “After that fiasco of a final performance, she swore revenge against the music world, especially against male violinists. Instead of kidnapping a violinist every few decades, as Niccolò had, she kidnapped four each decade. She also sold the haunted violins to women violinists. Since the violins contained the essence of a dead violinist’s virtuosity, even mediocre players could now play like talented musicians. Though everything was kept secret, the word spread among ambitious women violinists who wanted to rise to the top. Some were prepared to pay top dollar for the haunted violins. And of course, Sonia turned everything purple, like the color of the gown she had worn that fateful night. The violin castle was also her creation, a product of her deranged mind.”

“I’m not surprised,” Emma said. “But I don’t get it, Aunt Lili. How did Madame Dupriez and Van Ketts become involved with Sonia?” She turned to her mom. “Mom, did you know Sonia had a grandson?”

Her mom shook her head. “No, I didn’t. I knew she had a daughter somewhere, but I didn’t know her name. And I never would have guessed she lived in Brussels, much less that her son was Monsieur Dupriez’s student.”

Grandpa, who had been listening in silence all this time, said, “That’s not surprising. Corey’s mother had taken her husband’s last name, Fletcher. It seems she wanted to keep herself and Corey as distant as possible from the name Ivanov.”

“True,” Aunt Lili agreed. “As for how Madame Dupriez and Van Ketts became involved with Sonia, I’m not sure. All I know is that I remember seeing them both, though never together, in the parallel word. Sonia must have bribed them in exchange for powers or money... a convenient way to keep spies in the real world.”

“I wonder if they managed to escape,” Emma said. “They ran out of the room before we did, but we don’t know what happened to them. Do you think they found another portal? I passed by Van Ketts’ shop yesterday. It’s still closed.”

“There’s a possibility they found an open portal and escaped,” Grandpa said with a heavy sigh. “But let’s not think about that now. The pact is broken, Sonia is gone, and the violinists’ souls have been freed. That’s all we need to know for now.”

“What about all the haunted violins you made? Are the souls that were inside them also free?”

“
Si
, Emma. When the pact was broken, those souls were freed as well.”

She sighed. That was a relief. Then she bit her lower lip. There was something she’d been wondering for some time now. She hesitated. “Grandpa... did you...did you make my violin from—”

But he cut in before she was able to finish. “
Non ti preoccupare
, don’t worry,” he said, shaking his head. “Your violin has always been a completely
normal
violin. I would have never...”

“Yeah, I know,” Emma said quickly. “I just...”

“I understand,” he said. “You needed to know. Considering the circumstances, I don’t blame you.”

She nodded, giving him a brief smile. At least now she could be sure her playing had always been due to her own talents, not because of the essence of any male violinist.

There was a moment of silence as they all gazed at the roaring fire.

Then Emma remembered Sonia’s last words, promising to come back and avenge them all. She was overcome with a feeling of foreboding, but she tried not to think about this.

Sonia is gone. Gone for good.

Grinning, she displayed her hands for everyone to see. “Well, at least one
really
good thing came out of all this… I’ve stopped biting my nails!”

THE BRUSSELS GAZETTE

Werewolves in Tervuren?

A pair of red-eyed wolves was reportedly seen in Tervuren Park on Halloween night during the town’s traditional three-kilometre walk around the woods. Authorities and zoo officials don’t yet know the mysterious origin of the creatures, as there have been no reports of wolves in the area in over four decades.

“There was something strange about the wolves,” reported a witness. “They were giving off a purplish light.”

If you or anyone you know has seen or come into contact with these wolves, please notify the authorities immed-iately.

E
MMA SAT AT ONE OF THE
cafes in Tervuren Square and ordered a cappuccino. She rubbed her hands for warmth and glanced anxiously at her watch: 3:05 p.m.

Okay, so he was a little bit late. She could forgive him this time.

The waiter brought her cappuccino, a sinful concoction topped with heavy whipped cream and sprinkled with chocolate powder. Just as she took her first sip, she saw him through the window.

Poor Corey. But even the crutches didn’t take one iota from his smashing good looks. Her heart thudded, like it always did when she saw him. Though they’d been in touch via their cell phones, they hadn’t seen each other since Halloween night. His raven hair was tousled by the wind and his face was ruddy from the cold. He wore jeans and his dad’s aviator jacket, which had become his signature.

His green eyes lit up and he smiled.

She smiled back and got up to help him with the door.

“Thanks,” he said.

“You look good on crutches,” she teased in good humor. “Did you come by bus?”

“A friend dropped me off. But I can take the bus, it’s no big deal.”

He ordered a coffee and for a moment, they just looked at each other.

“That was
some
Halloween party,” he finally said.

Emma bit her lower lip and nodded. “Sure was.” She sighed. “How’s Noah?”

“He’s doing great,” he said. The waiter served his coffee and he took a sip.

For the next several minutes they talked about their families and about the strange events of the past week, though there was hardly much more to talk about—they’d spent hours going over it in the phone.

‘“My dear fellow,’” he said in a wise tone, quoting Holmes, ‘“life is infinitely stranger than anything which the mind of man could invent.’”

Emma thought for a few seconds. “
The Greek Interpreter
?”

“Nope.
A Case of Identity
.”

“Damn it! I’ll get you one of these days.”

Emma drank some of her cappuccino, then froze when he suddenly reached over with a small white napkin and gently brushed her cheek, his gaze keenly fixed on hers. A wave of heat rushed to her face. The mellow, late afternoon light from the window hit his eyes and she saw amber specks around his pupils. She thought she would melt, but tried not to show it.

“Whipped cream,” he said, amused.

“Oh, right, thanks.” She wiped her cheek with her finger.

He leaned back against the chair. “That’s fine. It’s gone now. So how’s the Beethoven going?”

Emma was glad for the question. Her racing pulse gradually got back to normal as they talked about their practice routines. Now that the competition was soon approaching, they were both practicing three to five hours a day—even on school days, which was the biggest challenge. On weekends, they’d go even longer, sometimes for six or seven hours at a time. They spent the next hour talking “violin talk”—harmonics, favorite composers and violinists, trills, pizzicato, vibrato and other techniques. Time just flew by. He was just as passionate as she was and she couldn’t wait to see him playing Brahms in a tuxedo. He’d be a tough adversary in the competition.

“Did you know my gown is purple?” she asked.

“
What
? Are you serious?”

She chuckled and shook her head. “Joking.”

He sighed dramatically. “You scared me. So what color is it?”

She smiled, amused. “You’ll have to wait and see.” It was red and strapless ala Anne Sophie Mutter, one of her idols.

“You’re going to keep me wondering. You cruel woman,” he teased. “Okay fine.” He shrugged. As in,
I don’t care
.

After a few more minutes of banter they paid for their coffees and left the cafe. Outside, it was already darkening. Corey insisted on walking her to the tram stop in spite of her protests.

The tram stop booth was empty, so it was just the two of them. Emma wrapped the wool scarf tighter around her neck and pulled her baby-blue knitted cap lower over her ears. Corey rubbed his hands and breathed steam on them. The fact they were silent didn’t bother her. It wasn’t awkward at all. It didn’t feel like they had run out of conversation. It was just the two of them standing there, enjoying the cold evening and waiting for the tram to arrive.

The tram hummed in the distance. She glanced at Corey, only to realize he was already looking at her. As the gleam of the streetlamp flashed upon his features, she noticed that his brows were furrowed thoughtfully and his lips were close with just a hint of a smile.

Emma inhaled a breath and looked at the approaching tram as if it were the most fascinating object in the universe. “Well, there it is.”

She took a step forward, but Corey seized her hand and pulled her gently, yet firmly, towards him.

Her heart caught in her throat.

“Emma...” he murmured.

OH. MY. GOD.
He’s going to...

The world stopped rotating. Emma wanted to say something, but nothing came out. He was so tall, he practically loomed over her as he lifted her chin and lowered his face. She held her breath and shut her eyes as his soft lips touched hers.

V
AN KETTS STARED IN FASCINATION AT
the deep hole he had spent the last thirty minutes digging. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and took a deep breath.

The little yard was quiet. The trees around him were losing their leaves and there was a carpet of orange, red, and brown leaves on the grass. The yard was enclosed by high brick walls. So much the better. He liked his privacy. Now more than ever, he
needed
his privacy.