when we didn’t have our ears pressed to the door. When the doctor finally emerged, he actually gave a little jump of surprise when he saw us.
“So. What is your diagnosis, Doctor?” I asked.
“Oh, I’m afraid I don’t have one yet,” he said in a nasal voice.
I blinked in surprise and disappointment, for the other doctors had needed no more than twenty minutes to make their decisions.
“I’ll have to conduct many other examinations,” he said with a nervous smile. “After lunch I’ll bleed him. Now, if you’ll excuse-”
“He’s already been bled,” I said, thinking of the useless Dr. Bartonne.
“Yes, so I understand,” replied Dr. Murnau.
“It did no good,” Elizabeth added. “Only weakened him further.”
Dr. Murnau nodded so vigorously that his glasses slipped down his nose a bit, and he pushed them back with a bony finger. “Don’t worry. Listen, I know there are many doctors who put great store in bleeding, but I’m not one of them. It’s completely useless. You might as well-I don’t know-chant druidic incantations.” He gave a strange little titter of laughter. “But when I said I’d bleed your brother, I only meant I’m going to take some of his blood-to study.”
“Study?” Elizabeth said with a frown.
“Exactly.” He licked his lips. “Just a small quantity, mind you. Now, there’s some reading I really must do.”
And with an awkward bow he left us alone in the hallway.
“What do you make of him?” I asked Elizabeth.
“Apart from the fact he’s clearly insane?” she said.
“What can he learn from Konrad’s blood?” I wondered. “Except that he needs it in his body to live!”
“There is something ghoulish about it.”
“He’s like a vampire,” I said.
When I’d first heard about Dr. Murnau, I’d felt hopeful-and more than a bit foolish. This man had spent years of his life studying, practicing his discipline. And here I was, with books of alchemy, seeking out a legendary elixir of life.
But now that I knew of his outlandish plans-to study blood! — they seemed even more fantastical than any tome of ancient spells.
The next day we would return to Mr. Polidori, to see what success he’d had translating the Alphabet of the Magi.
“I have made progress,” Polidori said, ushering us into his musty parlor.
“That is excellent news!” said Elizabeth.
Once more the three of us had come into the city with Father and secretly made our way to Wollstonekraft Alley. Polidori had greeted us eagerly.
“So you were able to translate the alphabet?” I asked.
“It is a devious thing,” he replied, leading us to a table covered with books and parchments. “Not all the alphabet could be recovered. And it is no simple matter of substituting a letter of our own alphabet for each arcane symbol. No, no. It’s an ever-changing cipher, you see, and every twenty-six letters, the meaning of the symbols alters completely.”
“Good Lord,” exclaimed Henry, “then how can you discern the meaning of the next characters?”
The alchemist wagged a finger. “The clues, you see, are implanted in the previous transcription, and from there you must riddle out the rest. As you might imagine, this is time-consuming. And even when one has a small triumph, what is produced is an archaic form of Latin that necessitates a further translation-”
“But you have made progress,” I prompted.
“Oh, indeed. I have translated the preface.”
“Just the preface?” I said, and felt myself sag in disappointment. Why would he waste time with the preface? I never read prefaces. Skip the preface and move on to the meat of the thing! Curled near the hearth, Krake the lynx gave a low purr and stared at me, as though chiding me for my impatience.
“In the preface,” said Polidori, “there is important information. Agrippa tells us there are three ingredients.”
“Three is not so many,” said Elizabeth, sounding encouraged.
“And,” said Polidori, smiling at us, “just last night I discovered the first of them.”
“You have the first ingredient!” I cried in delight. “That truly is excellent news. Well done, sir! Do you have it here?”
“Unfortunately I do not, young master.”
“Do you need us to purchase it elsewhere?” Elizabeth asked helpfully.
“There is no apothecary that will sell this,” said Polidori. “Come, and I will show you.”
On the table a great volume lay open. “Here it is. Look,” he said, pointing to a colored engraving.
“It is a fungus, or lichen, of some sort,” I said.
“Very good,” said Polidori. “A lichen. Usnea lunaria.”
“It is beautiful,” said Elizabeth.
The engraving had been rendered with painstaking detail. The lichen was a brownish-gray, its complicated filaments as delicate as lacework. I stared at the image a long time, trying to memorize its shape, color, and texture.
“It has healing properties, then?” Henry said.
“It is a toxin,” Polidori replied simply.
“A toxin?” Elizabeth said in alarm. “You mean a poison?”
“Yes, but a poison to destroy other poisons,” Polidori said. And then he must have seen the uncertain look on my face, for he added, “Healing is a complicated business. To heal, sometimes we must harm the body, but hope that the overall effect is beneficial.”
“It is true,” Henry said to me. “I remember your father saying arsenic was sometimes administered as a curative.”
“The dose is critical,” Polidori said. “And Agrippa is very specific about it. Let me worry about that. Right now our first task is to procure the lichen.”
“Where does it grow?” Elizabeth asked.
“It is a tree lichen,” said Polidori. “I once collected it myself, but”-he waved a hand at his withered legs-“that is no longer possible.”
“Where do we find it?” I asked.
“We are most fortunate. It can be found not half a day’s ride from here. Throughout the year it migrates across the trunks of the tree to follow the moon. Not surprisingly, it grows at the summit of only the tallest trees.”
“The tallest trees are in the Sturmwald,” I said.
I knew the forest well, since it rose from the steep hills behind our chateau in Bellerive. The trees that tended to thrive there were strong, for in winter they were racked by terrible winds. Some had reached great heights, and were said to have been growing since before the time of Christ.
“I have here a map,” said Polidori, producing a piece of paper so many times folded that it was almost in tatters. “I kept it, you see, in case I ever had need of the lichen again. You will see here some landmarks to help you on your way. On the actual tree where I found the lichen, I cut a blaze in the bark, but there is no guarantee it will still be seen. It was many years ago, before I lost the use of my legs.”
I glanced again at his legs, and thought how I would hate to have that freedom taken from me.
“Thank you,” I said, placing his map carefully inside my pocket.
“It will not be easy,” he said. “Though the lichen needs the moon to live, it can only be seen on the darkest nights.”
I shook my head, not understanding.
“It must be the exact same color as the bark on which it grows,” said Elizabeth, looking at the engraving.
“Exactly so,” said Polidori. “Even in the moon’s full glare you will not be able to discern it. But in the darkness
