“So that’s what? That’s what!” Daniel said.
Then Desiderius did turn to look up at us. There was something in his expression as he looked to Daniel that seemed resignation, or worse. I don’t think Daniel even noticed, as his eyes at that moment were fixed on his father. Nicolaus stared quietly at his brother for a few seconds, then looked away. And Little Johann seemed pleased and proud.
The rest of the room reacted far more wildly than it had for Staehelin. Daniel was spice to any dish he was mixed with. Especially the older students who knew him better knew that. I shook his hand. “I know you deserve it,” I said. “You’d be an honor to the Chair.” I meant it strongly. Despite his machinations and cunning, he would be. “Go on, go choose your lot.”
He almost couldn’t stand. All his anticipation and anxiety had finally met their goal, and it was as if he had nothing left. But he did stand, and as he descended the steps his spirit ascended until he was at the front, toe to toe with his father.
Master Johann’s back was still to me. Daniel looked down on his father, and the most unfathomable expression crossed his face, between triumph and longing, and joy and grief. For an instant Johann looked back, also impenetrably, but there was at least no defeat or regret that I could see.
“If you please, Master Daniel,” the Provost said peaceably.
Daniel glanced over the stones, then delicately lifted one and handed it to the Provost. He seemed to have considered the meaning of the emblem.
“Master Daniel has chosen the Throne.”
For the second time Heidelmann performed his duty. Daniel was transfixed watching his chosen stone merge into the indiscernible cube. After one more glance at his father, and this glance also had suspicion in it, and doubt, he returned to his place beside me.
“It’s there,” Daniel said.
“And it was there for Logic two years ago,” Nicolaus said.
“But there’s a difference,” Daniel answered.
“Master Johann,” the Provost said.
“Thank you.” He stood. This was really his first motion since he’d sat, and his first words.
“This is the clever part, now,” Daniel said. “So Brutus isn’t worried? We’ll see him play his hand now. This will be the foreign candidate. What’s the trick going to be?”
And Master Johann said, gravely, “The committee nominates Master Leonhard.”
I didn’t know who it was. I’d have thought I would have heard of the man.
“It’s you,” Nicolaus said. I felt something at my hand, and I saw he was shaking it.
I looked down at the stage at Master Johann, and saw that he was also intent on me, and also the Provost and Deans. And then I knew it.
It seemed someone else, not me, who walked the steps down to the lectern. That person was greeted by the esteemed men there and returned their nods and handshakes. It was even that man who graciously and sincerely thanked Master Johann. But then, when the tray of five stones was offered, then, it was me. My question of Lithicus was answered as I saw the emblems he’d carved. The five that remained were a sun, a candle, a lamb, a raindrop, and a fish. It was my hand and no one else’s that chose the symbol and handed it to the Provost.
“Master Leonhard has chosen the Candle.” He accepted my choice pleasantly, and the wax was melted and the stone was placed into the casket with the other two.
Then the casket was locked and set on the lectern, where it was to remain until it was opened again.
14
THE SEALED STONES
I was hauled off to the Boot and Thorn. I’d meant to leave quiet and get home but the forces were too great. The mass of my fellows, students I knew and had lectures with, manhandled me through the streets and into the Common Room. I’d have sooner settled in at the other side of the Square. Staehelin was brought, too. He wasn’t pulled as hard by the students but he was a bachelor with no family at home, so he didn’t resist, either. And Daniel took no pulling or hauling at all; he was the motive force.
The room was uncommon raucous. I was toasted and celebrated, though Daniel was given far more acclaim. And I was a leaf in the wind, in a narrow street of hard walls. I couldn’t tell if I or anyone was surprised. Only the tankards on the shelves seemed to be thoughtful at it, staring in every direction to see what it might all mean. And the oddest was that Charon the cat settled into my lap and purred. His weight alone was too great for me to stand or leave.
All things must end, though. All things human, at least. The room thinned and the smoke thickened. It was after two o’clock, hours since the casket had been closed with my stone in it. But Charon still held me prisoner.