This Dark endeavor taovf-1

by Kenneth Oppel

  Konrad struck the coelacanth. His first two hits were deflected, but the third went deep. And yet the blade seemed to have no effect on the brute. Konrad yanked his sword out and drew back his arm for another strike.

  “Where should I aim?” he cried out.

  “Its eye!” yelled Elizabeth from the shore.

  “Watch my arm!” I hollered at my twin, for fear he’d impale me. “Hurry!”

  “Stay still!”

  “I can’t stay still!” I roared. “It’s eating my arm!”

  Konrad drove his saber into the fish’s right eye. It thrashed violently and its mouth opened. I yanked my numb arm clear.

  Konrad struck once more with his blade, a brilliant upward thrust through the roof of the creature’s gaping mouth and into its tiny brain. The fish gave a spasm and then was still, rolling over onto its side.

  “Come, let’s get you back.” Konrad helped drag me to the shore, and then turned back to retrieve the fish. Elizabeth pulled my body onto the ledge, which was now completely submerged under several inches of water.

  My arms and legs were almost too cold to bend. Elizabeth helped me to my feet. Luckily she’d found a deep ledge several feet up the wall where she’d jammed our packs. From one, she now pulled a dry blanket.

  “Take your shirt off!” she ordered me. My numb fingers could not manage the buttons, so she started to undo them. I stared at her, mesmerized by her beauty. Then, in exasperation, she just ripped the entire sodden shirt from my chest.

  I saw her gaze fly to my right arm, and I looked too. I’d actually forgotten my injury, for the cold numbed all pain. There were three blue triangular gashes where the coelacanth’s teeth had pierced and held me. The surrounding skin was blanched white, but even as I watched, the color began to return, and with it, the wounds slowly welled with blood.

  She put the blanket around my shoulders. “Dry off,” she told me.

  From her pack she produced bandages and a bottle of antiseptic unguent, which she applied on my wounds before wrapping the cloth tightly around my arm. I was shivering violently now.

  She came close and hugged me, rubbing my back and shoulders.

  “I like this,” I murmured, teeth chattering.

  Konrad reached the shore, gasping with exertion, dragging the fish. It took all three of us to wrestle its seven-foot bulk onto the ledge.

  “We did it!” Konrad said, grasping me by the shoulders.

  “I was just the bait,” I said.

  Elizabeth was looking at the pool in horror. “The water’s overflowing down the tunnel! We need to go!”

  There was no question of bringing the entire fish. Polidori had said the head was more than adequate, and so Konrad began to hack at it with his saber.

  “Hurry!” Elizabeth cried.

  Finally he severed the head, wrapped it tightly in oilcloth, and crammed it into his rucksack.

  We turned up the wicks of our lanterns and made all haste, for the water was up to our knees now. When the tunnel angled downward, the water pushed hard against our legs and, after a few minutes, our waists.

  “No,” breathed Konrad, peering into the distance.

  Then I saw. At the tunnel’s lowest point, before the passage tilted sharply up, the water was nearing the ceiling. We were being cut off.

  “Run!” I shouted.

  It was impossible to run, loaded down as we were, up to our armpits in water. Elizabeth tripped and nearly disappeared under the surface. Her lantern snuffed out instantly. With my good arm I grabbed her and dragged her back to her feet. Ahead the tunnel was all but sealed. We slogged on with all our strength and speed, the icy water at our necks, spilling down our collars.

  Konrad and I held our lanterns high. We had but seconds before our heads would be covered.

  “We must get through!” Konrad cried. “It’s only a few yards until the passage slopes up again on the other side!”

  “The water’s current will speed us!” I said. “Go, go now!” The water was at my mouth.

  “Hold hands!” Elizabeth cried, grasping out for us.

  Our lanterns fizzled out, and the darkness was more intense than anything I’d ever known. I gulped air and went under, half swimming, half trudging, clutching my lantern. My hand slipped from Elizabeth’s. The glacial water churned and pushed at me-and my greatest fear was that I’d get turned around and die in the flood.

  Was the tunnel floor rising now? It was hard to tell in all the darkness and crushing cold. I forged ahead until I had no more breath, and then pushed up, slapping about with my hands. Water. More water, and then Air! Was it air?

  My head came up and I gasped. I wallowed ahead, water still up to my shoulders and rising fast.

  “Konrad? Elizabeth?”

  “I’m here!” came my brother’s voice. “Elizabeth?”

  There was a splash, and coughing. “Victor! Konrad!”

  “We’re all here,” said Konrad, and I felt hands against me, all of us reaching out for the others.

  “Forward!” I cried. “The water’s still coming!”

  “Up ahead,” panted Konrad, “at the intersection, there’s another downward tunnel-”

  “The water will take that course,” I said.

  We slogged uphill, soaking cold and leaden with exhaustion. But we could not slow, for the flood was always at our armpits or necks. I fought for every step, every breath. We called out to one another, just to make sure we were all still there, all alive.

  The water was at my waist, then my calves, and then, suddenly, it gave me a last final push and I staggered and fell onto wet stone. On all fours I crawled until the floor beneath me was dry.

  “This way!” I called out.

  “Are we all here?” Konrad shouted.

  “Light the lanterns!” cried Elizabeth.

  “It’s no use,” came my twin’s voice. “The wicks are sodden. Victor-”

  “Half a moment,” I said, fumbling in my rucksack. My hands grasped the wet case, and I carefully slid out the glass container. At once the tunnel was bathed in a green glow.

  “We are glad of the flameless fire now, are we not?” I said to Konrad, my teeth chattering.

  “Glad indeed,” he said.

  “You’re a genius, Victor!” said Elizabeth, and her words warmed me.

  Behind us I saw the water, still welling up from the tunnel, curving round in a frothing serpentine torrent to plunge down the other descending passage. For a moment we all sat there and watched, numb and exhausted.

  “The light is wonderful,” said Elizabeth, “but did any of you think to bring a change of clothes?”

  Miserably I shook my head, as did Konrad.

  How could we not have thought of such a thing?

  “In that caving book I found,” Elizabeth said, shuddering, “it said the most common cause of death was getting wet and cold. So I packed a waterproof pouch and put in a change of clothes for myself-and you two as well.”

  “Elizabeth-,” I said, and was rendered speechless by my gratitude and admiration.

  “Thank you,” gasped Konrad.

  “Now,” she said, rooting around in her rucksack and producing dry clothing for us, “strip off your wet things. Get as dry as you can before putting on the fresh ones.” She looked at us impatiently. “Get on with it! I won’t peek, and you two mustn’t either.”

  She turned her back on us and went down the tunnel a ways to change.

  Shivering, I stripped, trying to mop the water off my skin. In the green light I looked like some shriveled goblin. As frigid as I was, it took a good deal of willpower not to turn my head and take a quick peek at Elizabeth.

  “It’s a pity we can’t have a fire to warm up,” she said when we were all changed.

  “We must get to the surface as quickly as we can,” I said.

  Even in the dry clothes I was cold. And our boots were still sodden, but there was nothing we could do about that.

  “What time is it?” Elizabeth asked.

>   Konrad fished about in his pocket and dragged out his clock. “The face is shattered. Yours, Victor?”

  When I retrieved mine, I saw that the glass was filled with water and the hands were motionless at three o’clock. I showed it to my brother.

  “Coming on four, then,” he said.

  “It took us three hours to get down here,” I said, “and that was downhill, and when we were rested.”

  “Let’s go,” said Elizabeth. “Our exertion will warm us. And your fabulous green light will make sure we don’t miss my markings.”

  We silently began our march. I couldn’t have talked if I’d wanted to, my teeth chattered so violently. Every so often we forced ourselves to eat some soggy food and drink cold water from our flasks.

  One foot after the other. I did not know if I was slowly warming, or getting number still. I was not sure what I felt-until I was suddenly on my knees, Elizabeth beside me.

  “His wound’s bleeding badly,” she said to Konrad.

  “It’s nothing,” I said.

  “You nearly fainted, Victor.” She was pulling bandages from her pack and removing the old bloodstained one. She dressed my wound once more. I stood.

  “Are you all right?” Konrad asked me.

  “Let’s just get out of here,” I said.

  Time did not exist down there. Ancient rock, ancient fish. I would not have been surprised if a century had passed aboveground. I might have been sleepwalking, even as I squeezed once more through the tunnel’s birth canal and jumped again over the waterfall’s chasm. And then more walking.

  We had our coelacanth head. That was what I kept telling myself as we carried on, dragging our bodies up from the bowels of the earth. That was all that kept me going.

  When we reached the cave with our rope, I nearly cried-with gratitude and despair both, for I feared I did not have the strength to make that final climb. I sat down on the lowest step of the stone pedestal to catch my breath.

  “Victor! Elizabeth! Konrad!”

  The voice came from overhead, and with it the blaze of a torch.

  “Henry?” I called. “Henry!”

  I peered up and saw his face leaning over the hole. It was impossible to imagine a more welcome sight.

  “You have been so long!” he called down. “It’s nearly nine o’clock! I was almost demented with worry!”

  “We’re here, Henry,” said Konrad. “Triumphantly here. Give us a hand, and we will all be up in a minute!”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  HOUSE ARREST

  We sent Henry straight back to Geneva with the coelacanth head. The city gates closed at ten o’clock, and he had little time to lose. I wanted it delivered to Polidori’s house as soon as possible.

  We’d told our parents that Henry would likely return straight home after our outing, so they wouldn’t think it strange when we arrived back at the chateau without him. The three of us made our way with all haste, for the light was quickly failing, and we knew that our parents would be worried-and likely furious.

  “There will be questions,” I said when we approached the stables, slowing our horses to a trot. “We must tell them as little as possible. We are wet because we fell into the water while fishing.”

  “We have no fish to show for ourselves,” said Elizabeth.

  “I should’ve thought of that,” I said. “But it can’t be helped now. We fished for the sport of it. We’re late because we lost track of the time.”

  “Most important of all,” said Konrad, “we do not mention anything about Polidori or our quest.”

  Mother and Father must have been listening for our horses, for they were in the courtyard scarcely before we had dismounted. On seeing us, Mother burst into tears and scolded, even as she embraced us. Her grief made me feel ashamed for the first time.

  We handed off our horses to the grooms and were ushered inside.

  “You have worried your poor mother to distraction, and me as well,” Father said angrily.

  When I removed my riding furs, Mother gasped.

  “Victor, your arm!” I looked to see the bloom of blood on my shirt.

  “A small wound, really,” I said, glad of the chance to appear brave before Elizabeth.

  “We must call for Dr. Lesage,” Mother said.

  “We won’t be able to reach him until morning,” said Father. “I will tend to it.” To Schultz, our butler, he said, “Konrad and Elizabeth will need warm baths drawn at once. Give them each a small glass of brandy. And have bed warmers between their sheets, please.”

  “Very good, Master Frankenstein,” said Schultz.

  I watched as my brother and Elizabeth were led off, as meekly as little children, to their separate baths.

  My father turned to me. “Come to my study.”

  Mother made to accompany us, but my father caught her eye and shook his head. Inside his study he sat me at the great oak desk and told me to remove my shirt. I did so, and he unwound the bandages.

  “You have been bitten,” he said calmly.

  I cleared my throat. “Yes,” I said. “It was a fish. A large one.”

  Father took a small valise from a cupboard and withdrew from it a clean white cloth, which he spread over the desk. Next he set out bundles of cotton batting, a packet of needles, and a spool of thread. I always knew that Father’s knowledge was impressive but had not known he was also capable of simple surgery.

  At the side table he filled a tumbler with brandy, and then placed it on the desk near me.

  “You may wish to fortify yourself,” he said.

  “I am fine,” I said, my mouth dry.

  “Very well. Hold out your arm.” He took a clear flask, unstoppered it, and poured a small amount of liquid directly into each of my wounds. It was worse than being bitten. The pain pierced my arm through and through, and I cried out.

  “Alcohol to disinfect,” my father said, “before we suture.” He started to thread a needle. “What possessed you to go underground?”

  “Underground?” I croaked, truly surprised.

  “I glanced inside your saddlebags,” he said, “and found a lantern and a flask of oil.”

  What a fool I’d been. I composed my answer carefully. “We’d heard tales that there was a pool beneath the earth where we might see a coelacanth.”

  “Are they not extinct?” my father asked, and inserted the needle into my flesh. I winced but kept myself from crying out.

  “No,” I grunted as the needle crisscrossed my wound. “They live… in the lake bottom and… spend their days in underground pools.”

  “And you were bitten while attempting to catch it?”

  I exhaled. “Yes, Father.”

  He made another two stitches, closing the first wound, and then tied off the threads and snipped them short with scissors.

  The room swam briefly before me. My father turned my arm so he could work on the second bite.

  “It was very foolish,” I said, hoping to distract him from his calm course of questioning. “I promise I will never enter those caves again. I am very sorry.”

  “Why did you try to catch the fish?” Father asked.

  “To catch such a rare thing-” I groaned. “We thought it would be remarkable.”

  “It seems,” said my father, “that you meant to explore these caves all along.”

  I said nothing. I could not think clearly. The pain was mounting, and my guilt with it. I wondered if Elizabeth and Konrad were undergoing a similar interrogation by my mother. At least they weren’t having their rent flesh sewn together. They should have been able to keep silent. I reached for the brandy, but my father moved it beyond my grasp.

  “Yes, it was planned all along, Father.”

  “You deliberately misled your mother and me.”

  I whimpered as the needle entered my flesh yet again. “Father, the pain is…” I reached out for the brandy, but once more he withheld it.

  “You have also visited the Dark Library again.”

  I said not
hing.

  “Yes or no, Victor?”

  “Yes, I did,” I said faintly. “How did you know?”

  “Footsteps in the dust. Books shelved in different places. It’s unlike you to deceive, Victor. And I can’t help wondering if these two deceptions-your forbidden visit to the library and your expedition today-are connected in some way.”

  Why had I thought I could fool him? He was one of the cleverest men in the republic, a magistrate who judged truth from lie in his daily work.

  “Are they connected, Victor?”

  I had no more fight left. I nodded. He pushed the brandy toward me, and I greedily drained the tumbler. The burn in my throat temporarily obliterated the pain.

  Father finished the last stitch and looked up. “Now I want to know why you did these things.”

  “It was my idea from the start,” I said quickly. Even in my suffering I was eager to take full credit for the enterprise-and also to control the story. “When Konrad was ill, and none of the doctors seemed to know how to cure him, we found a recipe for an elixir of life and decided it might be his only hope. So we set about searching for the ingredients.”

  Father’s face darkened. “Did you hear nothing of what I told you in the Dark Library? You disobeyed me to pursue some childish fancy!”

  He brought his fist down on the desk and I jumped, but the violence of his gesture sparked my own anger. I was being treated like a criminal. Interrogated. Tortured.

  “You’re wrong! It wasn’t childish! The vision of the wolf. The flameless fire! I made them both, and they worked!”

  I regretted my outburst immediately. Father’s eyebrows contracted and he sat forward in his chair.

  “You have been working alchemy?” he asked with disconcerting calm.

  “Only to help us find the elixir’s ingredients.”

  “And whose miraculous recipe have you been following? Master Caligula’s? Eclecti’s?”

  “Agrippa’s,” I told him.

  He shook his head. “No. You are not being honest. That recipe cannot be made.”

  “You seem to know a lot about it,” I countered, then said, lying only a little, “We found a translation of the Magi’s Alphabet.”