Kenneth Oppel - Such Wicked Intent

“ That’s how it found us,” I said, suddenly realizing. “The smell of the doll.”

She looked at me dubiously.

“Remember, outside, I saw the way it sniffed it and looked straight toward the chateau. He could smell it in the wind. Like a hunting dog.”

“That seems far-fetched.”

“Any more far-fetched than birthing a body from mud?”

We left and locked the cottage, and pulled the cloaks about ourselves, for the wind was at our faces now. As we hunched our way toward home, my words finally burst out of me.

“Did you see the way it looked in the nursery?” I demanded. “The way it was staring down at William? That was hunger!”

“It was curiosity! He was giving him back his doll!”

“Or maybe the thing just dropped it so it could grab William!”

“What did you think he was going to do?”

My response was instant. “Eat him!”

She stared at me as though I were a lunatic.

“You talk about him like he’s a monster!”

“Elizabeth, you can’t tell me you didn’t notice this time. When we first entered, it didn’t even look properly human! Its face was completely transformed, and-”

She was shaking her head. “Did you take laudanum tonight?”

I forced myself to draw a calming breath. “I’ve never taken the laudanum. Listen to me. Are you absolutely sure this is the body we want Konrad’s spirit to inhabit?”

“It’s the butterflies, just as I suspected!” she said, voice raised against the wind. “You’ve abused their power, and now you’re seeing things, Victor. How many do you have on you right now?”

“None,” I said. “I left them behind.”

“So you went again tonight. I’ve told you, that place is best avoided!”

A sudden wave of nausea crested over me as I remembered my last visit. My mind felt filled to bursting. “I think you might be right. The thing in the pit is growing. Not growing, exactly…” The proper word came to me with a chill of cold wind. “We’re waking it.”

“What?”

I told her how I’d seen my butterflies disgorge their color into the massive form, invigorating it. “They’re like worker bees, or termites, feeding the queen. And the food is us.”

“Dear God,” she murmured. She took my hands and looked at me urgently. “Victor, you’ve strayed too long in that place, and I scarcely know whether to trust you. One thing I do know. We need to get Konrad out of there as soon as possible. And this body we’ve grown is his only way out. That is our goal. And after tomorrow night you must bid that place farewell forever. Do you understand?” She took a breath, and her eyes softened. “I know how hard you’ve worked to bring Konrad back. I’m sorry I’ve been so severe with you. You were the one who brought us this wonderful plan, and I know you’ll have the strength to follow through with it. But first you need to rest properly. You’ve let these spirits suckle on you, and they’ve clouded your judgment. You can’t expect to see things clearly and make sound decisions when you’re perpetually exhausted.”

“I… I don’t recognize myself sometimes,” I murmured, feeling overwhelmed.

She led me like a child across the fields the rest of the way to the chateau. Inside, I was surprised when she accompanied me all the way to my bedchamber.

“Into bed now,” she instructed.

I did as I was told.

“You’ll take some laudanum to help you sleep,” she said.

I looked at the unopened bottle the doctor had left me. My missing fingers throbbed, and I felt fatigued beyond endurance. I sighed, wanting to surrender, wanting sleep. “One measure, no more,” I said.

“There now,” she said as she held up the dropper and dripped the opiate onto my tongue. She leaned over me and gave me a kiss that almost grazed my mouth, and seemed to promise more. Then she stood and wished me good night.

After she left, I could still feel the imprint of her lips on my cheek, feel the heat of her face against mine.

But even as my body grew heavier, and my eyes drooped, I could not forget the creature’s monstrous face in the nursery.

And then I slept, and dreamed.

I am on a sled pulled by a pack of dogs, hurtling over a plain of ice, exhilarated. The sky is molten lead, lit from the west by a sinking sun. I am traveling north. At the summit of a low hill, the dogs falter, exhausted.

Before me a massive plate of ice, as big as a field, juts up and grinds over the frozen ground, and I realize that this is not ground at all but the sea, hardened by the same cold that turns the vapor of my breath to ice crystals the moment it leaves my mouth.

What am I doing in such a forlorn place? Surely I must be nearly at the pole. Are Konrad and I finally having our adventure, just the two of us? But as I cast my eyes to all horizons, I see that I am alone.

Mercilessly I drive the dogs onward, intent only on moving north, on finding Konrad. Each pulse of my fevered heart is filled with yearning.

Silhouetted in the distance like a frozen city, great jagged ramparts of ice lean and shriek and crack. My gloved hands are clawed around the reins of the sled.

My exhilaration is congealing to despair as darkness fast approaches. But then I catch sight of a smudge of movement on the white wastes. Squinting, I make out the telltale shape of a sledge in motion, and standing upon it is a fur-clad figure so familiar that I give a cry of ecstasy. Tears flood my eyes and threaten to freeze them shut before I can clumsily wipe them away with my leather mitt.

I urge the dogs to give me the last of their flagging strength, to speed me to my heart’s desire.

I feel as if a promise has been made.

It is Konrad. My brother lives again.

I slept hard and woke to a morning so bright and still that the tempestuous events of the previous night seemed pure impossibility. A maid must already have been to my room, for my curtains were drawn and on my bureau rested a basin of fresh water and a tray of tea and rolls. I stared out at the blue sky and mountains, and remembered my dream of Konrad and me on the ice. For the first time in a long time I felt calm and properly anchored.

When I looked at my clock, I was surprised to see that it was close to noon. I dressed, and when I stepped out into the hallway, Maria was passing.

“It seems I’ve overslept,” I said.

“And I’m glad of it,” she replied, smiling with satisfaction. “You still look peaky, though. You need feeding up.”

“Have you seen Elizabeth and Henry?” I asked.

“They checked in on you, but you were dead to the world. I told them to let you sleep.”

“Where are they?”

“They headed off on their picnic about an hour ago. They said you’d find them in their usual place. But let me fix you something in the kitchen to tide you over.”

“Thank you, Maria,” I said, and we walked together toward the main staircase.

The house was bustling with servants carrying traveling cases and dust sheets, simultaneously starting to put our chateau to bed for the winter while preparing for our hasty departure to Italy in two days.

As we passed the library, Professor Neumeyer emerged, looking distinctly dusty and more than a little excited.

“Ah, good,” he said. “Is your father at home?”

“He’s gone to Geneva to attend to some business, sir,” said Maria stiffly, scarcely concealing her distaste for this man. To her way of thinking, he’d opened a tomb within our family home and unleashed more misery into it. “And Madame Frankenstein is not to be disturbed.”

“Of course, of course,” he said, looking expectantly at me now.

“What have you discovered?” I asked, feeling uneasy.