Kenneth Oppel - This Dark endeavor

As children we had seen the crypt only once, after Father’s younger brother had died in a hunting accident. Konrad, Elizabeth, and I had stood, blue-lipped and silent, as the coffin had been lowered into its stone sarcophagus. Afterward, during our lessons, Father had told us that because the temperature never rose above freezing, a body in that crypt would be miraculously preserved.

No worms or bugs would infest it, no water would rot it, no elements would corrode it.

Konrad. What if it was I who killed you?

It was close to noon when we reached the crypt.

Our footman came and lowered the steps of the carriage for us. I was glad of my cloak, for the air was very cold. The path to the crypt entrance had already been cleared of ice and snow, but all around, on the mountain slopes, it glittered painfully and almost cruelly in the sunlight.

I stared briefly into the darkness of the crypt, then went to the back of the hearse to join Father and the other casket bearers. I was glad Henry was among them. Carefully we pulled out the coffin.

Though there were three of us on either side, and the coffin contained only my brother, when I took my handle and lifted-that coffin was as heavy as the earth itself. I could imagine nothing heavier.

It took all my strength to keep from losing my grip. As we started to move toward the crypt, for a moment I thought I might faint. Torches had been lit inside, flickering orange. I was shaking as we crossed the threshold. Ancient walls of stone and ice. Huge sarcophagi ranged to the right and left, centuries of Frankenstein ancestors.

And straight ahead, an open sarcophagus.

My step faltered. If we put Konrad inside there and closed the lid, how could he ever breathe?

I staggered on. I did not know how I managed it, but I helped lift the casket over the lip of the sarcophagus and lowered it inside.

There was no priest or minister to preside over the ceremony, so we all stood in silence. The crypt was full, and people were standing outside, too.

I shuffled back to my mother and Elizabeth. Her hand slipped into mine and squeezed.

I thought of Konrad in his sarcophagus, never aging, his perfect body useless to him.

I tried to pray- Dear God, please — but could not.

My father went alone and slid the stone lid into place-and that was when I wept.

Konrad had gone to the New World without me, and no matter how fast I ran westward, how close I kept to the sunsets, I would never catch up with him now. My tears were filled with fury-for I had failed him.

I’d tried to save him, but I had not been smart enough, or diligent enough.

I covered my face with my hands.

And I made an icy promise to myself.

I promised that I would see my brother again-even if it meant unlocking every secret law of this earth, to bring him back.