I wasn’t surprised by Elizabeth’s frown of displeasure.
“Just in case he makes noises, we won’t be heard.”
“He’s not likely to make any noise unless frightened,” Henry said.
I looked at the child’s strangely impassive face. How much of what we said did it actually understand? “We’ll have to administer the potion to it, and it might not like that. What if it fights?”
“He’ll do whatever I ask him to do,” Elizabeth said.
“Maybe. But the dungeon’s the only place for it. Remember, we’ve got to keep Konrad hidden until we have a chance to tell Father and Mother. We can’t have the servants seeing him. And we’ll need to make preparations to speed him off to Greece.”
“Surely he could come to Italy with us, though!” said Elizabeth.
Henry and I exchanged a look.
I said, “I still think it’s better if he’s properly separated from us-to avoid any suspicion.”
“How will you tell your father what we’ve done?” asked Henry.
“Or your mother,” added Elizabeth. “I worry her health isn’t strong enough to endure such a shock.”
I’d worried about the same thing. In her present weakened state, if Konrad appeared before her, would she think she’d gone mad?
“We’ll tell Father first and let him advise us. But you two,” I added, “are wordsmiths. Please, I need you to start scripting some calming speech to tell Father what we’ve done.”
Henry laughed nervously. “I don’t think such a speech has ever been written.”
“Yours will be the first, then,” I said. “I’ve no doubt you can do it. The day after tomorrow I’ll place the elixir and spirit clock in the dungeon, and all will be ready.”
“And we must pick a talisman for Konrad,” Elizabeth said.
“Of course,” I said.
At that moment a gray rabbit flashed across the glade, and the child’s eyes locked on to it with a hunter’s speed. In a second the child was up and after it, running for the forest.
I launched myself in pursuit, for I was, as always, afraid of someone spotting us. The child’s speed was amazing, and when I entered the trees, I couldn’t see it anywhere. Panicked, I turned in a full circle and then saw it, crouched low and absolutely still, eyes fixed intently on the rabbit witlessly nibbling in the distance.
I approached the child from behind. Before my hand even touched its shoulder, its head jerked round, and its face was not Konrad’s but that same fierce and brutal mask I’d seen the day before-only larger and stronger. It all happened incredibly quickly. Its mouth opened, faster and wider than seemed natural, revealing teeth, including one serrated into four sharp points. When the jaws clamped down on my hand, the pain was enough to bring a curse to my lips.
“Did he bite you?” Elizabeth asked in surprise, hurrying over.
“Yes, he bit me!” I looked at the teeth marks on my flesh, two matching curves of short dashes, except for four little points, each of which welled with a tiny drop of blood.
“Konrad, you shouldn’t bite,” said Elizabeth mildly, but the child’s face had resumed its characteristic tameness. It yawned and rubbed its eyes with a fist.
“Little monster,” I muttered.
Elizabeth began to laugh. “It hardly broke the skin.”
“I’m glad you find it so amusing,” I said.
“He takes after you.”
“What does that mean?”
“Your mother once told me what biters you and Konrad both were, when you were little. Always chomping on each other. She was quite appalled by it.”
“Victor, you’re pale,” Henry remarked, joining us.
“He has a tooth,” I said quietly, “pointed like a saw.”
“Oh, that,” said Elizabeth carelessly. “I noticed that yesterday.”
“It’s not natural.”
“Likely it’s just two teeth that’ve come in too close together. He’s growing so quickly, I’m not surprised.”
“I’ve never seen a tooth like that,” I persisted, unconvinced by her remarks. “And it wasn’t just the tooth. Its whole face changed. It happened yesterday, too. You’ve never noticed anything odd about the child?”
“No.”
I looked over at Henry hopefully, but he too shook his head.
“There’s something not right about it,” I said. The child was staring right at me, and even though I knew it understood nothing, its gaze unnerved me. “When its face changes like that, it’s like another creature altogether. It’s not Konrad.”
Elizabeth looked at me sternly. “Of course it is.”
And certainly, at that moment, the child’s resemblance to Konrad was uncanny.
“Look,” said Henry, “his eyelids are already drooping. He’ll not last the walk back.”
And with that he scooped the child up in his arms and headed for the cottage, Elizabeth at his side.
“Victor, will you gather our picnic things?” she called back over her shoulder.
“Oh, absolutely,” I said, watching them venture up the hill and into the trees, like some lovely family I was no longer part of. “Please allow me to just clean up after everyone.”
Muttering under my breath, I returned to the glade and packed up the hamper. I was about to set off when I saw I’d missed the beloved rag doll. I scooped it up and was about to cram it into my pocket when something stopped me. I looked again at the doll. On the right hand the fourth and fifth fingers had been chewed off.
“You’re making too much of it,” Elizabeth said as we locked the cottage behind us. “Children chew on things all the time.”
“It doesn’t strike you as eerie, or at least odd, that he chewed off the exact same fingers that I’m missing?”
We began our walk back toward the chateau under the unseasonable warmth of the October sun.
“He’s very observant,” Henry said. “Maybe he already recognizes the similarity between you and he’s trying to imitate you.”
“You should be flattered,” Elizabeth added.
“Hah! I don’t think it’s kindly disposed toward me.”
She exhaled angrily. “Well, no wonder, since you seem intent on denying him the least scrap of humanity!”
“Because he’s not human, not yet!” I said, and then added, “Maybe not ever.”
“What are you trying to say, Victor?” Henry asked with a frown.
“I wonder if this creature isn’t… abnormal in some way. If you’d seen the way it looked those two times, you’d wonder the same.”
“Curious, that you’re the only one who sees this,” said Elizabeth. “Have you wondered if maybe you’re seeing things? How many spirit butterflies do you have on you, by the way? Two, three?”
“Two,” I said.
“Maybe they’re clouding your perceptions, like an opiate.”
“I see very well indeed, thank you,” I retorted.
“Well, you’re certainly blind to your own jealousy,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“I sometimes wonder if you’ve really accepted the fact that your brother is growing up and truly coming back!”
“Of course I have,” I said, wondering if she were right.
And then I stared, for I thought I saw something dark move across the nape of Elizabeth’s beautiful neck and disappear beneath the collar of her dress.
“You have one on you too,” I murmured before I could check myself.
“What?” she said.
“There was… something on your neck. It looked like one of the shadow butterflies.”
