This Dark Endeavor

by Kenneth Oppel

  “What’s going on?” I demanded from the doorway.

  “Victor, Elizabeth,” my mother said, appearing in the hall. “A third servant has been taken ill. Genevieve, from the kitchen, has fever and spots across her body.”

  “Is it the pox?” I said.

  “It may be.”

  “Is that what Konrad has?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Certainly his skin bears a rash in places. Dr. Lesage is on his way. In any event I want you two to go with William and Ernest to the Geneva house.”

  Elizabeth’s brow furrowed. “You must let me stay as well. Who will help you with Konrad?”

  “I have more than enough help,” said Mother firmly. “What I can’t bear is another of my children taking ill. I want all of you away until we know whether this is chicken pox or plague.”

  Elizabeth began to object once more, but Mother raised her finger and shook her head. “No arguments. I’ll send a messenger the moment I have news to report.”

  Within the hour I was in a carriage with Elizabeth and William and Ernest, on my way to Geneva. William insisted on sitting on my lap, and I held him tightly. He looked up at me, beaming, thinking this a wonderful treat. I pressed my cheek to his, trying to find solace in his soft warmth.

  Mother must have sent word ahead of us, for when we arrived, the servants were already throwing open shuttered windows and pulling dust coverings off the furniture. We were greeted most warmly by the staff, who wanted to know all about Konrad and the other ill servants.

  All I could think about was getting to Polidori’s. The sooner I knew of the final ingredient, the sooner I could obtain it and have the elixir.

  I ate my lunch quickly and excused myself from the table.

  Elizabeth followed me out into the hall. “Where are you going?” she asked suspiciously. I said nothing, but she knew. She grabbed my hand and pulled me into a deserted parlor, closing the door behind her.

  “We promised your father, Victor.”

  “I don’t have any intention of keeping that promise,” I said.

  “Well, I do,” Elizabeth retorted.

  “Polidori has finished the translation,” I told her.

  “How do you know this?”

  I pulled his note from my pocket and showed her. “We have been in communication.”

  “You kept this secret from us?”

  “You wished to give it all up.”

  She quickly read the note and looked up at me. “Don’t go.”

  “‘Close at hand,’” I said, quoting Polidori’s note. “That means it is easily gotten, does it not? There will be no difficult quest this time. Perhaps he even has it in his shop!”

  “Victor, we do not even know what ailment Konrad suffers from. It may just be—”

  “The pox? Yes. And it might be mild or it might be fatal. Or it might be his old illness returned. We need to be ready.”

  “We must wait until Dr. Murnau returns.”

  I groaned. “That might not be for days—or weeks, if something unforeseen happens.”

  “For all we know, this Elixir of Life could harm him.”

  “It’s a risk,” I admitted. “But what if he gets even worse? What if Dr. Murnau comes and can’t help him? You’d do nothing when we might cure him?”

  Elizabeth’s gaze broke away from mine.

  “It’s within our grasp,” I pressed on. “We have only one ingredient left to create the elixir. One! And it will work, I feel certain of it—more certain than I can say.”

  I wanted to tell her of my dream, how I had healed Konrad—how I had raised him from the dead. But how to tell her without sounding demented?

  I took her hand. “Don’t be so easily turned from our quest. Its way was never smooth, I grant you, but it was all the more glorious for being full of dangers and terror. At every turn our strength was tested, our courage called forth. And it was all done not for ourselves but for another. That is what makes it glorious.”

  Elizabeth fixed me with her hazel eyes. “Is it truly done for another, Victor?”

  I frowned. “What?”

  “Is it for Konrad, or really for you? For your glory?”

  Her words bit deeper and swifter than a serpent’s fangs, for there was poisonous truth in them, but I would not admit it.

  “For Konrad!” I exclaimed, and turned my self-anger at Elizabeth. “How dare you question my love for my brother! No one is closer to him than me!”

  “He is a brother to me as well,” she said. “And more.”

  “Yes. Sweetheart, too,” I snapped.

  “So I have double reason to care for him,” she said hotly.

  “Then show it,” I said. “The clock ticks.”

  “Konrad himself wanted us to abandon this quest,” Elizabeth reminded me.

  I made to leave the room, but she grabbed my arm. “Victor, if you leave this house, I will send a note to Mother, telling her of your intentions.”

  I turned to look at her, and knew she was not lying.

  “I don’t understand you,” I said, feeling betrayed. “Where’s your fire?”

  “You burn enough for all of us,” she said more gently. “Will you at least wait until we learn more from your mother? Let us see what tomorrow brings.”

  “Very well,” I said reluctantly, and left the room.

  The next morning Henry arrived after breakfast to inquire after Konrad and our household, and it was grand to see him again, even in such dire circumstances.

  He stayed with us all morning, and just before lunch the footman entered the sitting room with a letter.

  “From your mother, I believe,” he said, offering me the envelope on a silver tray.

  Most eagerly I took it and opened it. “Read it aloud,” Elizabeth urged me.

  My Dears,

  I wish I had better news for you. When Dr. Lesage came yesterday, he said that Konrad was not suffering from the pox, but from his old illness. Last night was very bad. Konrad tossed and moaned, for not even sleep eases his pain. I write this letter to you at ten in the morning, and he still has not roused. His pulse is weak, and he is now so still and pale that it frightens me. I expect Dr. Lesage again shortly. But unless there is some drastic improvement, I fear the worst. My dear Elizabeth, I have never asked you this, but please pray. Pray that Dr. Murnau arrives soon.

  I would ask you all to come back, but another servant has broken out with the pox, and Dr. Lesage says we must wait another day before he knows whether it is smallpox or its milder cousin. So for now, please remain in Geneva.

  Do not read this letter to Ernest. Tell him that Konrad just needs a little longer to recover. He is too young to bear such worries.

  With my great love,

  Your mother

  “Konrad’s dying,” I said.

  “You can’t know that,” Elizabeth retorted, her voice catching.

  I stood. “I am going to Polidori, to finish the elixir.”

  Elizabeth said nothing for a moment. Her eyes glimmered with tears. “The last time Polidori gave an elixir to someone, it killed them.”

  “This elixir will be different!”

  “I could never forgive myself if we murdered Konrad.”

  “Can you forgive yourself if we do nothing?”

  “I say we continue,” said Henry quietly.

  In surprise and gratitude I turned to him.

  “Easy for you,” Elizabeth snapped. “You wait at the bottom of the tree! Or outside the cave!”

  “My days of waiting and watching are over,” said Henry. “I’m ashamed of my cowardice. From now on, I’m coming wherever our journey takes us—be it the very gates of hell!”

  I clapped him on the shoulder, stirred by his passion. “That—that—is the kind of strength needed now! Well said, Henry Clerval. To the very gates of hell! Let us be off at once.”

  I strode for the door.

  “Wait,” said Elizabeth. “I will come with you.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  THE FINA
L INGREDIENT

  YOUR BROTHER, HOW IS HIS HEALTH?” POLIDORI ASKED AS HE opened the parlor door to us.

  “Very poor indeed,” Elizabeth said.

  “I am most distraught to hear it,” said Polidori, looking at me closely. “Come in, come in.”

  We three followed him inside. The room was malodorous with the smell of wet cat. Krake was sprawled before the hearth, gazing at us with his green eyes.

  “Please sit,” Polidori said.

  “I cannot,” I said, pacing. “Just tell me what we need.”

  Polidori hesitated a moment, as if reluctant. “This last ingredient is different from the others, and you may be sur—”

  “Out with it! The sooner we know, the sooner we can get to work. My brother’s life fades with every minute!”

  I felt a hand on mine, and turned to Elizabeth. The calm reassurance of her gaze was like a balm to my inflamed soul. I allowed myself a deep breath and then exhaled, feeling ashamed.

  “Forgive me, Mr. Polidori. I am not myself.”

  “No, no, young sir, it is I who must apologize. I’m long-winded, I know. You will be pleased to know the ingredient is easily had.”

  “That is excellent news!” Elizabeth exclaimed.

  “But it will severely test your resolve,” said Polidori.

  “What do you mean?” Henry asked nervously.

  “You must be very sure you wish to proceed,” said the alchemist, and there was in his eyes a blaze of passion I had not seen since he’d first set eyes on the book of Paracelsus.

  “We are ready,” I said impatiently. “Death knocks at my brother’s door. Tell us what we need.”

  “The last ingredient is fresh marrow from a bone.”

  I nodded, very much encouraged. “Excellent. Where is your nearest butcher?”

  “It must be human bone,” Polidori said.

  “Ah,” said Henry weakly.

  I swallowed, and glanced at Elizabeth. “Very well. We must pay a visit to a charnel house, or morgue. With a bit of silver it shouldn’t be so difficult.”

  Polidori was shaking his head. “It must be obtained from a living body. There is more.” He looked at me with an intensity that was almost hypnotic. I felt my knees weaken. I feared very much what was to come.

  “According to Agrippa,” Polidori continued, “it must come from the person closest to the taker of the elixir.”

  “This is too much,” Henry breathed beside me. “This is akin to witchcraft. Your father was right—”

  “Shush!” I said to Henry, fearing he would mention Father’s name or somehow reveal our identity.

  “I told you it would test your resolve,” said Polidori. “I myself felt dizzy when I translated the words. It is not something—”

  “How much bone marrow?” I demanded, pacing again.

  “Ah,” said Polidori, “this news is somewhat better. Not so very much.”

  “Victor,” said Henry, “you cannot even consider—”

  “How much!” I shouted. “Can you not give me a simple answer?”

  “I calculate two fingers should be enough.”

  My eyes darted instinctively to my right hand—the one I used least. “My fourth and fifth fingers?” I asked.

  “The entirety of them, yes, should be sufficient.”

  I folded down my last two fingers, tried to imagine my hand without them. I had seen soldiers return from their wars with stumps where their legs used to be, with arms severed at the elbow. The sight had stirred in me horror and immense pity, for it seemed a terrible thing to go through life so diminished. But the loss of two fingers would be nothing like that.

  “It would not be so bad,” I said. “I could still grip things …”

  “Victor,” Elizabeth said quietly to me, “you are pale. Are you sure?”

  I nodded.

  “Because if you are not,” she said, “I am.”

  Henry inhaled sharply. I looked at my cousin in amazement. The idea of her wounded and disfigured was too awful.

  “Nothing must injure your hands,” I said. “No. It will not work, in any event. It must be from his closest relation. I am his brother. The same blood flows through our veins.”

  “But I am his cousin,” she said, “so our blood cannot be so very different. And I love him. We are soul mates.”

  Her words were daggers in my breast. For a moment I could not speak.

  “And in any event,” she went on, “Mr. Polidori did not say blood relation; he said ‘closest.’ These are different things.”

  I looked at the alchemist. “What was Agrippa’s precise meaning?”

  “The young lady is correct. The translation is no easy thing, and there are many different meanings of ‘closest’ from the Latin. How to weigh blood relations with the love of one’s soul mate …”

  “It’s out of the question,” I said. “I will not allow it.”

  Elizabeth’s voice was hard. “You are not my master, Victor.”

  “It will be me!” I shouted. “Damn you, let it be me!”

  What was it that overmastered me? Was it my jealousy, the fact that she loved him so much she was willing to sacrifice some part of herself? Or was it the mere thought that anyone could be closer to Konrad than I was?

  “Do it now,” I said to Polidori.

  “You are sure, young sir?”

  I nodded.

  Once more he led us down the short corridor to the elevator. My feet scarcely felt the floor; the walls seemed like shimmering veils. Down we went to the laboratory.

  Polidori wheeled himself about and lit more candles and lanterns, including a large chandelier, which he raised above a long narrow table. He had indeed prepared for my coming. On the table was a neat pile of clean linens, a mound of cotton, rolls of bandaging. And on a separate table nearby were several chisels and a mallet.

  At the sight of them, my stomach turned over and I retched, tears stinging my eyes, before I regained my composure.

  “You do not have to go through with this,” Henry murmured to me.

  “I must,” I said. Without this elixir I was sure Konrad would die. And if I did not give my bone marrow, Elizabeth would give hers—and that was something I could not endure.

  Polidori took up the chisels and turned to Henry. “Young sir, could you fill a cauldron with water and place it on the fire. Once it boils, submerge these instruments within for five minutes to sterilize them.”

  Henry went off, looking rather green. Polidori next turned to Elizabeth.

  “I already know, my lady, that you are not squeamish.”

  “Not in the least,” she said stoutly.

  “Excellent. You shall be my assistant in this surgery. Young master, you will be more comfortable, I think, if you lie down.”

  I lay down on the narrow table. The head was angled upward slightly, so I could watch as Polidori proceeded to strap my right arm down along a side table, now covered in clean white linens.

  I did not like having my arm tied, but I could see it was necessary, even as my thoughts became gauzy and unreal. I had to be kept still, for the pain would doubtless be—I grit my teeth and dashed these thoughts from my mind by staring at Elizabeth, her luxuriant hair around her face. She would see how brave I was, how great my devotion to my brother—and to her. I would bring back her beloved.

  She met my gaze and held it, and I felt her eyes fill me with strength. She smiled. If only I could keep seeing that smile during the operation, I would be all right.

  Henry returned with the sterilized chisels wrapped in clean linen.

  “Listen here,” he said to Polidori, in an atypically forceful tone. “Are you qualified to perform this kind of surgery?”

  “Find me a surgeon who will willingly perform it, and I will happily let him,” Polidori replied.

  We all knew no respectable physician would remove my fingers just for the asking, and we had not time anyway. Konrad needed the elixir now.

  “Have you any experience, though?” Henry a
sked the alchemist.

  I did not know which would be more reassuring—if he had none, or if he had merrily amputated many people’s limbs during his career.

  “My tools are not a surgeon’s tools, I grant you,” said Polidori, “but for the task at hand, I warrant they are the best suited.”

  “There will be a good deal of bleeding. You know how to stop it?”

  “Indeed I do, young sir. Once I knew the dire task ahead of me, I took pains to research the precise surgical procedure. I can promise you, I have thought everything through. Your friend will recover swiftly from these injuries, free of infection.”

  “If any harm comes to him, his father will have you hanged,” Henry said. “And if he doesn’t, I swear I will do it myself.”

  My heart swelled at Henry’s loyalty.

  Polidori smiled kindly, and placed a soothing hand on my friend’s arm. “There is no need for such dreadful oaths. All will be well.”

  With tongs Polidori carefully placed the chisels on the table to which my arm was strapped.

  “Are you ready to begin?” he asked me. I found his calm confidence reassuring.

  I tried to say yes, but my throat was so dry that not even a croak came from it. I simply nodded.

  “Now, you will need this for the pain.” He handed me a glass filled nearly to the brim with amber liquid. I did not attempt to be brave; I downed the fiery substance in two swallows. My vision doubled, but I felt a reckless numbness sweep through me.

  I think I started to laugh, quite beside myself. “Don’t watch, Henry. It won’t be pleasant.” I waved my free hand. “There is probably some book to interest you here.”

  “I will stay at your side,” he said, and pulled a stool closer.

  “Thank you, Henry,” I said. “You are a true friend.”

  “Grip my hand if it helps the pain. As tight as you like.”