This Dark endeavor taovf-1

by Kenneth Oppel

  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 FINAL 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 asked 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.”

  I wiggled my soon to be amputated fingers. “‘Close at hand,’” I said to Polidori. “That was what you said earlier. Was that a joke?”

  “I did not realize it,” the alchemist said with a small smile.

  I looked down at my fingers. I did not really believe I was about to lose them, for my mind kept veering away from the idea, refusing to let me comprehend it completely. But:

  They would be gone.

  Suddenly I felt a greedy animal fear keen within me. I could not be brave much longer.

  “Do it!” I cried. “Do it now!”

  “Young miss, if you would make sure the site is kept clean.”

  Elizabeth sat down on a small stool, her back to me, and I was very grateful she blocked my view. I felt my smallest finger separated from its fellows by a large wooden peg-splayed off to one side to make it easier for my surgeon.

  “I will be quick,” Polidori promised.

  I felt the brief, light touch of a chisel’s edge against the place where my fifth finger met my hand. Then the instrument was lifted away.

  “No, the narrower one, I think, please,” Polidori told Elizabeth.

  A second cold chisel was placed against my hand, its pressure firmer and sharper this time, testing. I caught a glimpse of Polidori’s arm raised high with the mallet, and I clenched my eyes shut. What followed was a blow that seemed to travel through every bone and ligament of my body, to the very roots of my teeth.

  There was no pain, not one bit-not yet.

  “Please staunch the flow of blood,” I heard the alchemist tell Elizabeth, “while I proceed with the second finger.”

  Dimly I felt the wooden peg separate my fourth finger from the others, felt a chisel tap once more against my flesh. I scarcely felt the blow that severed my finger forever from my body.

  “It is done,” said Polidori And then came the pain, twin lightning bolts coursing through my missing fingers, my wrist, and up my arm.

  I cried out. I do not know what I uttered, only that noise and curses came in a torrent from my mouth, and my body arched. I was vaguely aware of Polidori saying to Henry:

  “Bring me the poker from the fire, please.”

  Time was not making sense anymore, for almost immediately Henry stood there with a metal rod, three inches of its tip glowing orange, making my friend look altogether devilish. Light-headed, I managed to croak:

  “What is that for?”

  Huge thudding pain pulsed in my hand, in sync with my racing heartbeat. I imagined all my blood pumping out through the twin wounds, and my vision swam.

  “We must cauterize the wounds, young master,” Polidori said. “To stop the bleeding and prevent infection.”

  I caught sight of Henry glimpsing my hand, and saw his face lose all its color.

  Swiftly Polidori took the poker. “Remove the cotton,” he told Elizabeth. She turned to me. Her face was drawn, but she gave a valiant smile. She put her hands on my shoulders, pressed her cheek against mine.

  “It’s almost over,” she whispered, and then came a searing pain so overwhelming that it bundled me up inside it and tumbled me over and over into darkness.

  When I regained consciousness, Elizabeth was standing over me, mopping my forehead with a cool cloth. I just stared at her, and thought her the most beautiful thing in all the wide world. If only I could be allowed to stare at her like this, I would be a happy man.

  “He’s awake!” she said, and I realized Henry was standing at my other side, looking at me with concern.

  “How long?” I croaked.

  “Two hours,” she said, and leaned forward and kissed my forehead. “Thank God, thank God.”

  Her hair fell around me, and her scent embraced me, but it wasn’t enough to ward off the pain. It came with a fury, a hot rhythmic anvil pounding.

  “How’s my hand?” I asked.

  “It was well done,” said Elizabeth, nodding as though to reassure herself as much as me. “Very clean and quick. And the bleeding has all but stopped.”

  She stepped to one side so I could look down at my hand. Bandages bound my palm, wrapped round and round the place where my fourth and fifth fingers had once been. I wiggled my remaining three fingers, just to assure myself that they were still attached. It did not look so very odd. One would scarcely notice. But for a moment I imagined Mother’s heartbroken face when she next beheld me, and tears welled up in my eyes.

  “What have I done?” I whispered. “Dear God…”

  “You have done the bravest thing I’ve ever seen, my friend,” said Henry fervently.

  “Indeed you have,” said Elizabeth.

  I tore my gaze from my forever crippled hand an
d saw, across the cellar, Polidori hunched industriously over a worktable.

  I tried to sit up, and a wave of queasiness crested over me.

  “Slowly does it,” said Henry, taking hold of my left arm to steady me. “You lost a good deal of blood.”

  “Did I?” I asked Elizabeth.

  “Not so very much,” she said, and narrowed her eyes at Henry. “It looked more than it was.”

  I swung my legs over the side of the table, paused to let my stomach settle, and then stood. The floor seemed a very great distance away. It took me several moments to catch my breath. Henry and Elizabeth each took an arm. I shuffled over to Polidori.

  “How goes it with the elixir?”

  He did not look up from his work. “Young master, you’d be better off resting comfortably. Your body has suffered quite an insult, and you might not enjoy seeing my work.”

  I saw it. I heard Henry’s swallow. My two severed fingers rested on a metal tray. The skin and tissue and muscle had already been removed from one of them, leaving only the bones themselves. There was a good amount of blood and pulpy matter.

  “I will not watch,” said Henry. He crossed the room and sat at Polidori’s paper-strewn desk.

  Elizabeth and I remained. She pulled a stool over for me, and helped me sit upon it, for I was still very weak and shaky.

  It was horrible yet strangely fascinating to watch Polidori as he picked up a short brutal-looking instrument and sawed through one of the bones. Then, with an ingeniously thin, hooked pick, he started to extract the marrow and deposit it in a small vial that rested within a larger flask filled with ice.

  “It is important the marrow be kept cold,” he murmured as he worked.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “To prolong the life of the animating spirit that dwells within it,” he replied. “Of all human marvels, it is believed that the greatest healing properties lie within the marrow.”

  It sounded most strange and wondrous to me-but not so very different from Dr. Murnau’s pronouncements on human blood, and the many cells that lived within it.

  “How many doses will it yield?” I asked. “How shall we administer it to my brother?”

  “It will be just one dose,” said Polidori, “and must all be taken at once, by mouth.”