Kenneth Oppel - Such Wicked Intent

He cannot rip his gaze from my ring and clock, the two things that will take him back to the real world, in my body. I can see the hunger in his eyes.

“Don’t tempt me this way,” he murmurs.

“For God’s sake, Konrad,” I growl, “don’t be a bloody fool. Do it before I change my mind!”

He takes a step closer to the ring and clock. “It’s like murder, don’t you see?” he says. “It is me stealing your life.”

“No. I’m giving it to you!”

He tears his gaze away and looks at me. “Your light’s dimmer than ever, Victor, and scarcely any heat comes off you. You’ve weakened yourself more just coming here. Now say good-bye to me, Victor. And do not come back!”

I shake my head.

He storms out of the chapel. I stand there, and wait. He’ll return. How can he resist such an offer? I couldn’t. But he doesn’t come back. The stubborn idiot! Doesn’t he know what it cost me to make such an offer? Does he think I can be noble for much longer? Cursing under my breath, I pocket the ring and spirit clock and go to find him.

In the hallway I see Analiese at the foot of the great staircase.

“Analiese,” I call out, surprising her, “have you seen Konrad?”

“Going upstairs in great distress. I was about to follow to see what the matter was.”

“It was my doing,” I tell her. Her face is so sympathetic, I find myself telling her about our conversation, the offer I made.

For a moment she says nothing, and when she does, her voice is thick with emotion. “From the very first your love for your brother was obvious, but I don’t think I’ve ever known such selflessness.”

She has never been so close to me, and she is so beautiful. If I reached out, I could touch her.

“Are you really so willing to part with your life?” she asks me.

I look away. “I can’t fail him again. If this is to be the only way, so be it.” I think of Elizabeth in anguish, knowing she’ll never properly love me, knowing my very nature makes me unlovable. I think of my many faults, the unceasing pain in my hand. Right now to be free of these things would be almost a relief.

“Did you know,” Analiese says calmly, “that your light has gone out altogether?”

Stupidly I hold out my arms, as if I’ll see a difference. How could this happen? Panicked, I cast around, but I see no sign of colorful butterflies. Then I look down. On the floor three of them scuttle silently under my pants and up my legs. Whirling, I look over my shoulder and see six of them on my back, blazing with light, feeding on me.

“Did you see them coming?” I cry out, knocking them off in a crazed fury. I try to catch some of them as they abscond with the last of my light, but they are hummingbird-quick.

Devastated, I turn back to Analiese, and she punches me hard in the face. This is no breezy touch, like the last time Konrad struck me. This is real contact, without any protective veil. Her fist snaps my head back with a sickening crack, and my legs buckle. I hit the floor. Dazed, I watch as this small young woman strides toward me with a terrifying detachment and kicks me in the stomach. A wave of nausea breaks through me, stealing my breath.

“Your idea isn’t new, you know,” she says as she plunges her hands into my pockets and plucks out the spirit clock and ring. “A clever fellow thought of it some three hundred years ago when he stole my body.”

As I cough and retch, she steps back, mutters some words I don’t comprehend, and grasps the neckline of her black dress. A single downward rip, and the dress explodes toward me like a jigsaw puzzle, each piece a black butterfly, its wings perforated with suture marks and trailing the threads that once bound it into this supernatural fabric. When the cloud of butterflies disperses, I see that Analiese is gone and before me stands Wilhelm Frankenstein, as though he’s just stepped from his portrait.

“I lingered too long here, just like you,” he says, “seduced by the power of the place. I didn’t realize that my living presence woke the monster from its slumber. There were other human spirits here then, and I became too friendly with one of them. He waited till I lost my light, then stole my talisman and rode off in my body.”

I start to push myself to my feet, but with a savage, well-aimed kick he knocks my legs out from beneath.

“But now,” he says, “your life is mine.”

He is already running. I scramble up and give chase, down the hallway toward the grand staircase.

“Stop!” I bellow like a child. “You can’t leave me here!”

At the top of the stairs he turns instinctively toward my bedchamber, drawn by my ring. I know this is a race I must not lose, and I put on a burst of speed. Halfway down the hallway I hurl myself at his legs and bring him to the floor. I still have some strength left. I punch at him, trying to claw the ring from his finger.

From beneath the chateau rises the loudest, most terrifying shriek I’ve yet heard-because this one is unmistakably filled with triumph.

For a split second Wilhelm’s eyes meet mine, and I see his utter horror. Then he drives an elbow into my face and sends me skidding against the wall.

He’s up again, running, hurtling through the doorway of my bedchamber.

“No!” I roar. I burst in, murderous with fury, and see him reclining on my bed, clutching the spirit clock and ring. I launch myself at him, ready to bite his hand off if need be But he’s gone. I land atop an empty bed.

Panic pounds at all the doors of my mind, hungry for entry. I touch my chest, grip my arms. The missing fingers of my right hand are still there, but they are fiery with pain. I can’t be dead. Nothing dead could feel such pain. My body lives on, elsewhere, but inhabited by another. I jump off my bed and pace the room, as though some other exit will magically present itself.

This isn’t happening. It’s not true. Please let it not be true.

Black butterflies swirl about my room but leave me unmolested. I’m no use to them anymore.

“No, no!” I bellow, and sink to the floor.

And the moment my eyes shut, I am seeing***

— through the eyes of another. I am in my room, sitting up on the edge of my bed as Henry and Elizabeth burst in, their faces alive with dread.

“Did you go back inside?” Henry demands.

“I needed to make sure all was well,” I hear my voice-my very own voice-say. And I realize I’m seeing through the eyes of my thief, Wilhelm Frankenstein. The sensation is indescribable, to be within and without oneself simultaneously, to hear myself, to feel myself move, without having any control whatsoever.

“The pit monster is lapsing back into its dormant state,” I lie to Henry and Elizabeth.

“You went to see it?” Henry asks, incredulous.

“I had to, to make certain. And it already looks more firmly entombed in cocoon and stone.”

Elizabeth lets out a long-held breath. “That’s good news, truly good news.”

“Konrad will be gathered,” my voice says. “I have no doubt, his heart is so pure.”

“It’s a pure heart,” Elizabeth says, her eyes moist. “I’ve got so much to atone for. What we did was a terrible interference with God’s law. And yet…” She bites her lip. “I want to say good-bye to him.”

Henry scratches his chin uncertainly. “Isn’t that too risky? Victor, there must still be so many butterflies about…”

“They’re numerous, though they seem to be getting sluggish too, without nourishment.”

“Don’t go,” Henry tells Elizabeth.

“I must,” she insists.

“Yes, of course, of course,” I hear my imposter’s voice say.

But Henry holds firm. “No, Victor. What if they feed on her and wake the pit god fully?”