Such Wicked Intent

by Kenneth Oppel

  “Why would she lie?” I ask.

  “I don’t know, but I don’t trust her. She must have a secret.”

  A small cloud of black butterflies flutters into the armory. They land upon Elizabeth and me, and then dart away on their brilliantly colored wings.

  Konrad shakes his head. “Elizabeth, I can’t believe it. She’s only ever been kind to me, my whole time here.”

  “You talk about it like it’s a lifetime.”

  “It feels like a lifetime,” Konrad shoots back.

  Elizabeth’s eyes flash. “Well, why don’t we make a body for her, and when you come out, you two can spend another lifetime together!”

  Konrad looks truly pained. “Elizabeth, you’re mistaken. I’m not in love with her. I only wanted to rescue her from this place—and from that thing in the pit, which is waking! Victor, tell her!”

  “It does seem more active,” I concur, and touch my pocket, for my spirit clock is at long last tapping, lethargically at first, as though waking from a long slumber, and then with an angry insistence.

  “Our time is up,” I say.

  For the first time Elizabeth seems to notice the weapons Konrad holds. “You were going to attack it?”

  Konrad nods.

  “It’s too dangerous, too rash,” I say.

  He gives a hollow laugh. “I never thought I’d hear you call me rash.”

  “I beg you not to do it,” I say. “Please.”

  My twin frowns. “What are you not telling me?”

  “Listen to me,” I say. “That creature in the pit that so frightens you—it’s the source! It creates the butterflies. I saw one grow from its very surface and fly!”

  Konrad shakes his head angrily. “Ah, I see. This is for you, Victor. I know how much you want these things for their power!”

  “Yes,” I admit. “But it’s also for you, Konrad. One of these things is giving you a new body. If we destroy this creature in the pit, who’s to say you won’t also be destroying all the butterfly spirits it gave rise to!”

  Konrad is silent, chest rising and falling heavily.

  “I agree with Victor,” Elizabeth says, surprising me. “We can’t risk it. And you’ll be out in just a few days. Promise me you won’t try to harm it.”

  Konrad looks at her uncertainly, then nods.

  “It won’t harm you,” Elizabeth tells him reassuringly, and before turning to leave, adds, “It’s Analiese I’d watch.”

  CHAPTER 14

  ADDICTED

  WHEN I WOKE THE NEXT MORNING, I WAS STARTLED BY the familiar throbbing pain in my missing fingers. Quickly I pulled off my nightshirt and sat with forced patience on the edge of my bed until I saw a quick fluid shadow move across my flesh.

  The butterfly spirit was still upon me. So why was I feeling pain? For three blissful days I’d been completely healed, bursting with energy. But as I stood and opened my curtains, I realized I’d slept later than usual, and that my body felt weary. A first tendril of alarm spread through me. Was it possible the butterfly spirit, just like any earthly medicine, lost its effect after a while?

  More. I need more.

  I hurriedly unlocked my drawer and looked down at the flasks that contained my extra spirits, including the one I’d slyly collected last night as Elizabeth and I had left the armory, and a very anxious Konrad.

  I hesitated only a moment before opening the flask and thrusting my finger inside. At once the smudge of deep shadow swirled round the glass and was upon my skin. I took a sharp breath, feeling a bit light-headed. I withdrew my finger, and the spirit scudded coolly across my hand and up my arm, leaving behind it a blissful trail of well-being.

  I sat for a moment, concentrating only on my breathing. Within seconds the pain in my right hand eased, then evaporated. My pulse slowed; my mind felt like some marvelous clockworks, its cogs and wheels meshed and ready for anything.

  * * *

  When I sat down at breakfast, Mother’s chair was empty yet again.

  “How is she?” I asked my father. He looked worn-out.

  “Her sleep’s still fitful,” he said. “And last night she had terrible dreams.” He rubbed a hand across his brow. “I regret letting the professor begin his work in the caves. It’s too morbid right now. But I have news that I hope will be more cheering.”

  Elizabeth, Henry, and I all looked at him.

  “I’ve decided we’ll winter in Italy. There’s a villa in Sorrento that’s available immediately, and I plan to make the move as soon as possible.”

  “When?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Three days,” he said.

  “So soon?” she asked, a quaver of surprise in her voice. I knew immediately what she was thinking. Would that give us enough time? Would Konrad’s young body have grown to the proper age by then?

  “It’s sudden, I know,” Father said. “But I’ve conferred with Dr. Lesage on this, and he agrees that a total change is what’s needed for all of us. There are too many memories here. Your mother needs a new landscape and some Italian sun to help burn away her grief. And the two of you…” He looked now at Elizabeth and me. “You look as if you could use a change too. Despite all these outings of yours, you still look pale and drawn. You especially, Victor. Have you been sleeping poorly?”

  “Absolutely fine,” I said, studiously eating my boiled egg.

  “You’ve lost weight, my boy.”

  I shook my head. “I feel very vigorous.”

  “You look haunted. Dr. Lesage will be here shortly to see your mother, and I’ll have him check on you as well.”

  “I’m absolutely fine,” I insisted.

  My father just gave me a look that indicated his decision had been made. I hurriedly swallowed down my breakfast. I knew I had to get the two spirits off my body before Dr. Lesage arrived. If he examined me, he might very well ask me to remove my clothes.

  I caught Henry and Elizabeth looking at me worriedly. No doubt the same thought had occurred to them.

  One of our footmen came in. “Dr. Lesage is here, sir.”

  “Very good. Please have Maria take him to Madame Frankenstein’s reception room.” He turned to me. “And, Victor, I’ll have him examine you in your bedchamber directly afterward. We’ll postpone our lessons.”

  I nodded, swallowing down my bread roll with some tea. “If you’ll excuse me.”

  I walked serenely out of the dining room and then, several paces down the corridor, ran for my room at full tilt. I locked the door. Inside I ripped off my clothes. I took two empty flasks from my drawer and set them at the ready. Then, in the full light, I turned round and round, searching for the two shadow butterflies. It was as if they were trying to confound me, for I saw no sign of them.

  “Come on,” I growled under my breath.

  There was one, nestled behind my knee! I almost captured it first try, but it seeped from under the rim of the flask and shot to my back. I turned my backside to the window and forced both shadows to my front. One shimmied down my leg and lodged itself between my toes—virtually impossible to get the mouth of my flask around. This was devilishly clever. I began hopping about madly, trying to dislodge it.

  There came a knock at my door. I froze. Dr. Lesage already?

  “Just a moment!” I called out. I careened about the room on one foot, grasping the other and trying to poke the spirit out from between my toes. I lost my balance and lurched against the chest of drawers. The washbasin crashed to the floor, shattering.

  “Victor?”

  It was Henry! I rushed to the door, unlocked it, and hauled him inside.

  “You’re completely naked,” he said, startled.

  “Yes. I need your help.”

  “I thought you might,” he said.

  I thrust the flask into his hands. “I need you to catch it. I’ll face the window.”

  Silently he took the flask, and I turned my back to him. After a moment I felt the rim of the flask slam hard once, twice, three times against my shoulders.

>   “Did you get it?” I demanded.

  “Just.” He held out the sealed flask to me.

  “Now the other one!” I said.

  “What do you mean, the—” He stopped abruptly, and I knew he’d seen it. “You’ve got two on you now?”

  I seized the second empty flask and pushed it into his hands. “Just catch it, all right?”

  There was another knock on the door. “Victor?” came Elizabeth’s voice.

  “Just a moment!” I sang out.

  Once more I faced the window, wincing as Henry pummeled my body—with unnecessary force, I thought.

  “It’s in your armpit,” he muttered. “Lift up your… No, the other one!”

  I did as I was told and yelped as the narrow end of the flask rammed painfully into my flesh.

  “Victor, are you all right?” Elizabeth asked worriedly from outside.

  “You got it?” I asked Henry.

  With a tight-lipped smile he waggled the sealed flask to show me.

  “Victor, I’m coming in,” said Elizabeth, and I scarcely had time to yank up my undergarments before the door opened and she slipped inside. She saw Henry and nodded in relief.

  “You got it off, then?”

  “Both of them,” Henry told her.

  Her eyes widened in astonishment. “You have two now?”

  “What of it?” I said, snatching up the rest of my clothes and dressing hurriedly.

  “Why are two necessary?” she demanded.

  “Because one wasn’t enough,” I snapped irritably as a savage pain jolted through my missing fingers.

  I saw her glance worriedly at Henry. “Victor, has it occurred to you that these things might be… addictive?”

  “I am not addicted to them,” I said, buttoning my shirt.

  She walked over to my desk and its open drawer. “And you a have a third, I see.”

  “I told you I was collecting them.”

  She looked at me closely. “I think your father was right, Victor. You do look haunted. I don’t think you should let them on your body anymore.”

  “I’m touched by your concern,” I said with a laugh. “But everything’s fine.”

  “It’s not fine,” she said, anger creeping into her voice. “We were only supposed to use their power to bring Konrad back. And now you’ve launched yourself on a completely different endeavor!”

  “Both are possible,” I said, putting all the flasks back into the drawer and locking it. “And when Konrad comes out, he might want one for himself, even if you don’t.”

  * * *

  The child ran about on the grass, chased by a laughing, barefoot Elizabeth. Overnight it had grown again, and the set of Ernest’s clothes it wore was too small on its frame.

  We were in a pleasant clearing in the forest, not ten minutes’ walk from the cottage. I hadn’t wanted to stray so far, but Elizabeth had been determined to visit the place. No doubt she and Konrad had taken romantic walks here together.

  Sitting on the picnic blanket, the child had eaten its food eagerly, all the while clutching its doll. It seemed remarkably fond of the thing. And then it was up on its feet and charging off across the glade, Elizabeth at its heels.

  Henry and I watched from the blanket, finishing our own meals. I had little appetite but forced myself to finish my cold breast of chicken. Dr. Lesage had told me I’d lost weight. He’d asked if I was taking too much laudanum, and I’d shown him the bottle he’d prescribed, completely untouched. He’d said he could find nothing bodily wrong with me and told me the Italian sun would do wonders for my constitution. I’d thanked him and, after he’d departed, unlocked my desk drawer. With shaking hands I’d opened two flasks and let the spirits back upon me.

  Sprawling on the picnic blanket with Henry now, I studied the child, my creation, carefully. Its appearance certainly reminded me of my twin. But while my brother Konrad and I had a lean frame, this new Konrad seemed built of stronger stuff. Even though its body was that of a nine- or ten-year-old, I’d been surprised, when I’d first seen it today, at the firmness of his chest and arms and thighs. Even its stomach seemed taut with growing muscle.

  I looked over at Henry, chewing meditatively on a bread roll while watching Elizabeth across the glade.

  “You’ve been writing her love poetry,” I said casually.

  He swallowed in surprise, and coughed. “Did she tell you that?”

  I shook my head. “I overheard her reading it. ‘She walks in beauty like the night.’

  “She was reading it aloud?” he asked, trying not to look pleased.

  “On the dock by moonlight. It’s a very nice piece.”

  He eyed me uncertainly. I knew he wanted to ask how we’d both found ourselves together at night, but he wouldn’t give me the satisfaction. Instead he asked, “Why are you telling me this, Victor?”

  “She didn’t think it was written about her. But it seemed perfectly obvious to me.”

  He said nothing.

  “I didn’t know you entertained hopes of winning her. You once told me you felt like a feeble moth around her flame.”

  “Moths dream of being butterflies too,” he said.

  “I wish I had your gift with words, Henry.”

  “You can’t have everything.” He sniffed. “Or maybe you can. Another trip to the spirit world and you can come out spewing sonnets.”

  I chuckled. “You’ve had your own gift from the spirit world, I think. It’s changed you, my friend. You’re fearless now!”

  “It merely showed me what I might be, and what I needn’t be. Timid. Shy. Unattractive.”

  When he said this last, he looked almost abashed, the old Henry, but then he met my eye boldly once more.

  “I’ve grown up with her too, you know, and never even dared to think she might find me appealing. That she might love me. Why not? Why shouldn’t I have my chance to win her?”

  “Don’t you feel disloyal to Konrad?”

  “Did you, when he was languishing?”

  I ignored his well-aimed barb. “I’m just trying to spare you hurt. Her love for Konrad is like the foundation of the earth.”

  “The earth sometimes shifts.”

  I wondered if Elizabeth had told him of Konrad’s request to have a body made for Analiese.

  “Henry, listen to me. You have no hope of winning her. Konrad’s coming back.”

  “And then going away again, thanks to you,” he said, his blue eyes more piercing than I’d ever known.

  “Ah. So that is your plan.”

  Calmly he shook his head. “No. That was your plan, remember?”

  I mimed astonishment. “Henry, my plan was to send him away so he could change his identity and return to us!”

  “But in his absence you hope to win her. The plan bears your trademark genius, Victor. After all, anything could happen during Konrad’s absence. He might fall in love with some beautiful Greek princess. Or Elizabeth, in her loneliness, might learn to appreciate the charms of another suitor. It’s a fine plan. And it benefits me equally. Elizabeth can make her own choice.”

  “Well, well,” I said. “What do you reckon your chances are?”

  “Just watch me,” he said.

  And then we spoke no more, because Elizabeth, smiling and lightly perspiring, returned hand in hand with a very tired-looking child.

  “I think the running’s done him good,” she said. “Did you see how sure he is on his feet?”

  “Remarkable,” said Henry.

  “He’ll be ready in time,” Elizabeth said excitedly. “He seems to grow at least three years overnight. At this rate he’ll be ready the night after next.”

  In the past few days I’d hardly given a thought to the actual mechanics of returning Konrad’s body to the spirit world. But I now focused my spirit-sharpened mind upon the task, and a plan swiftly laid itself out before me.

  “In two nights,” I said, “we’ll bring him inside the house….”

  “Where?” Elizabeth wanted to kn
ow. “His bedroom?”

  “Certainly not,” I said. “The dungeon.”

  I wasn’t surprised by Elizabeth’s frown of displeasure.

  “Just in case he makes noises, we won’t be heard.”

  “He’s not likely to make any noise unless frightened,” Henry said.

  I looked at the child’s strangely impassive face. How much of what we said did it actually understand? “We’ll have to administer the potion to it, and it might not like that. What if it fights?”

  “He’ll do whatever I ask him to do,” Elizabeth said.

  “Maybe. But the dungeon’s the only place for it. Remember, we’ve got to keep Konrad hidden until we have a chance to tell Father and Mother. We can’t have the servants seeing him. And we’ll need to make preparations to speed him off to Greece.”

  “Surely he could come to Italy with us, though!” said Elizabeth.

  Henry and I exchanged a look.

  I said, “I still think it’s better if he’s properly separated from us—to avoid any suspicion.”

  “How will you tell your father what we’ve done?” asked Henry.

  “Or your mother,” added Elizabeth. “I worry her health isn’t strong enough to endure such a shock.”

  I’d worried about the same thing. In her present weakened state, if Konrad appeared before her, would she think she’d gone mad?

  “We’ll tell Father first and let him advise us. But you two,” I added, “are wordsmiths. Please, I need you to start scripting some calming speech to tell Father what we’ve done.”

  Henry laughed nervously. “I don’t think such a speech has ever been written.”

  “Yours will be the first, then,” I said. “I’ve no doubt you can do it. The day after tomorrow I’ll place the elixir and spirit clock in the dungeon, and all will be ready.”

  “And we must pick a talisman for Konrad,” Elizabeth said.

  “Of course,” I said.

  At that moment a gray rabbit flashed across the glade, and the child’s eyes locked on to it with a hunter’s speed. In a second the child was up and after it, running for the forest.

  I launched myself in pursuit, for I was, as always, afraid of someone spotting us. The child’s speed was amazing, and when I entered the trees, I couldn’t see it anywhere. Panicked, I turned in a full circle and then saw it, crouched low and absolutely still, eyes fixed intently on the rabbit witlessly nibbling in the distance.