This Dark Endeavor

by Kenneth Oppel

  Let me see. Let me see them coming.

  “Victor!” came Henry’s frantic cry between thunderclaps. “There’s something slinking about down here!”

  “Shut up and light another lantern!” I shouted back.

  The storm was so close that the lightning and thunder came simultaneously, a great blinding stroke that hit the tree next to us, splintering wood and sending up a plume of smoke and flame.

  Now I had my light!

  And just in time—for my branch bounced, and the vulture that had been below was now suddenly right beside me. It flared its wings and lunged. I struck fast with my dagger, hitting it in the chest. The bird shrieked, but before I could scramble back, it swatted my arm with its wing and knocked the dagger from my grip. The weapon went spinning earthward.

  From below came a hysterical cry from Henry. “Victor! Elizabeth! Something climbs the tree toward you!”

  The vulture on my branch hopped closer. I bared my teeth and howled at it. And maybe there was a little of the wolf left in me, for the bird shrank back, hissing.

  Elizabeth’s scream made me turn. The other vulture was directly above her now, its sharp claws trying to impale her outstretched hand. Its eyes flashed, its beak opened, and in amazement I watched as Elizabeth with her free hand grabbed the creature and dragged it off the branch.

  The vulture was so surprised that it had no time to unfurl its wings before Elizabeth sank her teeth into its throat. I didn’t know who was more shocked, the vulture or me. The vulture made a most unholy sound and thrashed free. As it flailed to a higher branch, it struck me with its wing, and my foot slipped.

  I fell, grabbing for anything—and the only thing nearby was the wing of the vulture on my other side. Its clawed feet sank deeply into the bark, and it held tightly, and so it unwittingly pulled me back from a deadly fall.

  “Victor! Elizabeth!” Henry hollered again. “It comes! Look out!”

  A sleek catlike form hurtled toward me from the branches. I saw a mouthful of sharp teeth and threw up my arm to protect myself. But the jaws were not meant for me. The creature streaked past and sank its fangs into the vulture’s throat, pinning it against the branch and holding it tightly until the bird twitched no more.

  The speckled cat finally released its grip, and the vulture’s limp body slid off the branch, thudding down through the branches. The cat then turned, its maw spattered with blood, and I saw that it was Krake.

  His green eyes met mine for a moment, and there was such bloodlust in them that I thought he would attack me next. But he did not. He glared up at the second vulture, still hovering uncertainly, and gave an earsplitting yowl. The bird retreated at once, back toward its nest and mate.

  Krake promptly stretched out on the branch and started licking himself clean.

  “Krake!” gasped Elizabeth. “Good kitty!”

  “Victor! Elizabeth!” Henry bellowed. “Are you all right? Tell me what’s happening! I feel so useless down here!”

  Elizabeth and I began to laugh, soaked to the skin in the rain.

  “We are fine, Henry!” she called. “Krake came to our assistance!”

  I looked at Elizabeth in amazement. “You bit the vulture! In the throat!”

  She looked confused for a moment, then slowly nodded, and began laughing even harder. “It seemed—like the only—thing to do.”

  I could still see the savage expression on her face. It should have repelled me, but it only attracted me. I felt a powerful urge to crush her against me and drink in her heat and scent that had been distracting me all night. My eyes settled on her mouth. I shook my head to dislodge the thought.

  “What did it taste like?” I asked.

  “I have no idea,” she said, then wrinkled her nose and wiped her mouth, spitting. “Did I really bite it?”

  I nodded. “Let’s get out of this tree.”

  Carefully, for the tree was treacherously slippery and our limbs were weak, we climbed down through the branches to the rope. Elizabeth went first, and then I, hand over hand, my body shaking. Henry was there to wrap my cloak about me as my feet touched earth. I sank down next to Elizabeth to catch my breath.

  Henry seemed the most shaken of all of us. His cheeks were flushed and he paced about in the lantern light and fired questions at us.

  “Sparks rained down on me from above; I feared the whole forest would ignite!” he exclaimed. “And then a wildcat was leaping for me and up the tree! I had no idea what to think! Honestly, Polidori might have told us he was sending Krake!”

  The lynx landed on the earth beside us. I reached out and scratched the fur between his ears. He purred loudly. I wondered if it was Krake I’d seen, keeping pace with us through the forest. His green eyes settled on me calmly, and I knew his intelligence was not to be underestimated. Polidori had obviously trained him well, so well that he could follow us to the Sturmwald and watch over us, should we encounter danger.

  “What matters is that we got it,” I said. “The first ingredient!”

  “I just hope it’s enough,” said Elizabeth with a frown, pulling the vial from her pocket.

  The lynx butted me gently with his head, then again more insistently. Tied around his neck was a small pouch. He looked at me expectantly. I unclasped the pouch, and inside was a handwritten note.

  Dear Sir,

  I trust all went well in the Sturmwald, and that Krake was of some assistance. I hope his presence did not alarm you. To save you a trip to Geneva, you may place the lichen in Krake’s pouch and he will return it to me immediately. My work on the translation continues. Come again in three days if you so please.

  Your humble servant,

  Julius Polidori

  I showed Elizabeth the letter.

  “A strange messenger, but I’m sure most reliable,” she said, and placed the vial carefully within Krake’s pouch.

  Without delay the lynx leapt into the forest, streaking back toward Geneva and his master.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  MIRACULOUS TRANSFORMATIONS

  I WOKE TO THE SOUNDS OF A CHAMBERMAID MOVING about my room. The curtains of my bed were still drawn, but I heard her opening my shutters and setting out my fresh wash basin, and tea. I waited for the sound of her picking up my chamber pot and leaving. But instead I heard her sit down with a contented sigh and start whistling. I frowned. What was she doing? Then came the sound of her pouring a cup of tea, and the clink of china as she sipped at it! We were a liberal household, but still, this was taking things a bit far!

  “Are you going to lie there all day, you lazy carcass?” she asked.

  Except that it wasn’t a she. It was a he, and I knew the voice as well as my own.

  I tore my curtains aside and stared.

  Wearing a white nightshirt, my twin sat calmly in the dappled morning sunlight, sipping my tea.

  “Konrad!” I exclaimed, and then I felt dizzy and feared I was only dreaming. “Konrad?”

  “Good heavens, Victor,” he said. “You’d think you’d seen a ghost!”

  He smiled, and suddenly the fearful spell was broken. I leapt off the bed and ran to him. He stood to meet me, and we threw our arms about each other.

  “You are all better?” I cried.

  “Much improved, anyway,” he said.

  Beneath his nightshirt I felt his bones. I pulled back to look at him. His face was still drawn, but his skin no longer had that papery look, and in his cheeks was a hint of color.

  “Your fever is gone,” I said.

  He nodded. “The good doctor’s medicine seems to be working.”

  For a moment, just the smallest of moments, a curious thought swirled through my mind. I was meant to be the one to heal him, to put the Elixir of Life to his lips and watch as the color and vigor rushed back into his body.

  But then I was overcome with shame for such a petty thought, and was once more flooded with relief and sheer joy.

  “Do Mother and Father know?” I asked.

  “Not yet. I wante
d to see you first.”

  “Let’s go tell everyone!” I said. “Right away!”

  It was indescribably wonderful to have Konrad at our table for meals, to see him dressed and walking about, to hear his laughter.

  He was much thinner, and weak still, but he had a good appetite, and in no time at all he would be his old self again.

  It was like Christmas and everyone’s birthday combined. Mother and Father seemed suddenly younger, Elizabeth’s smile dimmed the sunshine, William and Ernest were giddy with excitement, and the servants fixed every single one of Konrad’s favorite dishes.

  Every day for several hours he needed to return to his bed so that he could be pricked with Dr. Murnau’s needle and have more medicine dripped into his veins. Dr. Murnau said he had to get a good deal of rest and not overexert himself.

  In another two days Konrad’s treatment was finished.

  Dr. Murnau was greatly pleased with my brother’s progress and made arrangements to return in three months to check on him again.

  I helped the doctor pack up his laboratory. His glassware and apparatus reminded me of Mr. Polidori’s, and I still wondered how different these two men were. But I felt foolish. I’d had such grand thoughts of helping create a fantastical elixir of life. But Dr. Murnau had been methodical and scientific, and he had succeeded. As usual it seemed Father was right and all these old books were nothing but nonsense.

  “You have the fire of curiosity in you,” Dr. Murnau said to me as I finished replacing the last of the flasks in their velvet casings. “Do you have an interest in the natural sciences?”

  “I am not sure,” I said. “I believe I may.”

  “Ingolstadt has a very fine university,” said the doctor. “We are always glad of keen students who can help advance our learning in chemistry and biology. Perhaps one day I will see you there.”

  “Perhaps,” I said.

  He offered me his hand. “Good luck to you, young Victor.”

  “Thank you, sir,” I said.

  The day was warm and beautiful, and Father had canceled our morning lessons and ordered us to go outdoors and enjoy ourselves. Mother told us not to go far. We did not want to worry her—she had been through enough already—so we promised her we would stay within sight of the château at all times.

  Moments after our boat sailed clear from the dock, Konrad looked at Elizabeth and Henry and me, and said, “You three have been having an adventure, I think.”

  We glanced at one another and laughed.

  “You lucky wretches!” Konrad said. “Tell me everything.”

  We enjoyed taking turns telling Konrad of our adventures: our secret visit to the Dark Library, the burned book of Agrippa, and Paracelsus’s mysterious Alphabet of the Magi. We told him of Julius Polidori and his pet lynx, Krake.

  “You’re not inventing this!” Konrad broke in more than once, looking from Henry to Elizabeth, then to me, in bewilderment. “It seems the stuff of an overheated imagination!”

  “It is all true!” I told him, laughing, and then told him of our nighttime escapade in the Sturmwald, the vision of the wolf, and our climb into the tallest tree during the tempest.

  “You climbed the tree?” he asked Elizabeth in amazement.

  “I did,” she said.

  Konrad looked at me and Henry severely. “Honestly, you two, what were you thinking? She might have come to harm.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes sparked. “I’m quite capable of taking care of myself, Konrad, I can assure you.”

  “She bit a bearded vulture on the throat,” I added.

  Konrad’s face flinched in revulsion. “You what?”

  “You needn’t have told him that bit,” Elizabeth said, frowning at me.

  “Well, it was very impressive,” I said defensively. “I was very impressed.”

  Konrad looked astonished, so we hurried on and told him of our battle with the three lammergeiers, and how Krake had come to our rescue.

  “No one could have invented this,” said Konrad. “I believe it entirely!”

  “It seems almost unreal now,” said Elizabeth. She looked at me briefly, awkwardly, and I wondered if she was remembering how we’d gazed at each other hungrily with our wolves’ eyes. My own feelings for her in the Sturmwald had been so powerful that they made me blush now, and I looked away to check the trim of our mainsail.

  “Anyway,” Elizabeth said gaily, “it is over now. There’s no point continuing, since the brilliant Dr. Murnau has put things to right.”

  I watched Konrad’s face carefully as she said this, and suddenly my heart was like a fist, tightening in my chest.

  “What is it?” I asked him quietly.

  “Mother doesn’t know,” said Konrad, “and you must not tell her. Father doesn’t think she could bear it.”

  “What?” said Elizabeth in alarm. “What must she bear?”

  “It is not necessarily a cure,” said Konrad.

  “But look at you!” said Henry. “As fit as ever!”

  “Dr. Murnau said it might come back.” I saw my brother’s eyes go to Elizabeth. “He has seen other cases where it has returned.”

  Henry gave a cheery chuckle. “Well, then, another dose of Dr. Murnau’s famous elixir should be all you need, surely.”

  “He would not want to administer it again for quite some time,” Konrad said. “Another dose too soon could be fatal.”

  “You assume the worst,” Elizabeth said firmly, though she looked pale. “He said your illness might come back. Might.”

  Konrad smiled, but it was the kind of smile a father gave children when trying to reassure them.

  “Let’s come about,” I said, and pushed the tiller. The boom swung overhead, and Konrad adjusted the foresail to our new course.

  “Father should tell Mother,” said Elizabeth, sounding annoyed. “It is wrong of him to keep it from her.”

  “You’re not to say anything,” said Konrad.

  “Of course she can bear it. She’s very strong. Just because she’s a woman, he needn’t treat her like a child.”

  “I agree,” I said.

  Konrad sighed. “He’s doing her a kindness. He wants to spare her worry—most likely unnecessary worry.”

  I did not feel so kindly toward Dr. Murnau anymore. A doctor cured people. If a cure was not certain, was it any cure at all? For a while we said nothing, skimming over the water. I watched Konrad and knew exactly what he was thinking.

  “But I do believe,” he said finally, “it might be a good idea to continue seeking out the Elixir of Life.”

  Elizabeth and Henry stared in astonishment. But I felt no surprise. I knew him as myself, and I would have made the same decision.

  “Just in case,” Konrad added.

  “Absolutely,” I agreed.

  Henry looked decidedly queasy. “But we have only one of the three ingredients, and that was hard enough.”

  “Henry was quite sick with worry while we were up in the tree,” I remarked wryly.

  “You have no idea what it was like,” he protested. “You two were up there with your crazy wolf eyes, and I had to keep my wits about me down on the ground and try to make sure you didn’t get struck by lightning or eaten alive by a wildcat …”

  “You did a good job stopping him, by the way,” I quipped.

  “It was hardest on you, really,” Elizabeth agreed, and bit her lip so she wouldn’t laugh.

  “Oh, go ahead, have a good laugh,” Henry said. “You should be grateful that at least one of us has some common sense.”

  “It won’t be so bad, Henry,” Konrad said, giving him a wink. “Now that I am well, I can help find the remaining ingredients.”

  The next day I came upon Elizabeth and Konrad in the music room.

  The sound of the pianoforte had lured me there. I knew from the song that it was Elizabeth at the keys. The door was ajar. Silent and unnoticed, I watched them. Konrad stood beside her, turning pages. As she played, he touched a stray strand of her curly hair
and tucked it behind her ear, and let his hand linger on her cheek for three, four, five beats of my pounding heart. There was such tenderness on his face.

  Elizabeth smiled, and the color in her cheeks darkened to a blush. She stumbled over the notes, then lifted her hands from the keys and said something to Konrad in a low voice I could not hear.

  I retreated a few steps, steeled myself, and then came whistling down the corridor before I entered the room. I pretended not to notice their surprised and embarrassed faces.

  “Father is going into town tomorrow,” I said. “We can go with him and see Polidori.”

  “Excellent,” said Konrad. “I’m looking forward to meeting this fellow—and his lynx.”

  “You cannot come,” I said.

  Konrad chuckled. “Why not?”

  “Polidori does not know who we are,” I explained. “But if he sees the two of us, he may suspect. Most people in Geneva know that Alphonse Frankenstein has twin sons. It is uncommon.”

  Konrad shrugged carelessly. “So what if he does suspect?”

  I shook my head in irritation. “Konrad, don’t you remember? It was our father who tried him. Who ordered him never to practice alchemy again! If Polidori knows who we are, he will want nothing more to do with us.”

  “Even so,” said my brother more thoughtfully, “surely we have the advantage. He knows we can report him to Father, if he refuses to help us.”

  “That is not a game I think we should play,” I said.

  “Victor is right,” Elizabeth said, and I looked at her, pleased. “We cannot risk it, Konrad. We must keep our identities secret.”

  Konrad sniffed and looked so disappointed that I almost felt sorry for him.

  “It is for your own sake, you oaf,” Elizabeth said, more tenderly than I liked.

  “Yes, I can see that now,” he said. “You are clearheaded, Victor. Thank you.”

  I said nothing. I could not accept his thanks with a pure heart, for I had another, selfish, reason for keeping him from Polidori. The quest for the Elixir of Life had been my idea. I was in charge, and I wanted to keep it so. I wanted to be the one to shine. If Konrad walked into Polidori’s laboratory, I feared we would be recognized, yes—but even more I feared he would take command of our venture. With his natural charm and his keen, calm intelligence, it might happen in a heartbeat. And I would not stand for it.