“If we are being foolish in our quest?” I said.
She nodded. “His knowledge seems so modern, and ours is ancient and-”
“Do you worry it is sinful?” I asked.
She took a breath. “No,” she said firmly. “God is the creator, and anything on this earth is here by His permission. I cannot think He minds if we use His creations-only how. For good or ill. What we seek is for good, so I will not worry about it.”
I wondered if she believed herself or merely wanted to.
“I felt the power of that book,” I said. “I cannot deny it.”
“Let us leave this place,” she said, “and get a little rest before tonight.”
Fitful starlight was our only guide as we left the chateau on foot. It was nearly midnight. Clouds streamed across the sky, driven by an icy northerly wind. We skirted the village of Bellerive and climbed up through alpine meadows toward the Sturmwald, a swath of deep blackness against the horizon. Resting for a moment, we looked back and saw the lake and the city glimmering below us. Far away a church bell tolled one in the morning. We hurried, and before long we reached the forest’s edge and found the place where Elizabeth and Henry had hidden our gear.
“There will be a storm,” Henry said with a shiver. Overhead, branches swayed with the wind.
I lit a lantern. It was most strange to see Elizabeth in my clothes. I was used to her in flowing dresses. My breeches, cinched tightly around her waist, made me aware of her hips for the first time. And I was aware too of the tightness of the tunic across her chest. Far from making her seem more boyish, my clothes made her young womanhood all the more obvious. She had knotted her long amber hair into a single braid.
“I do not enjoy the breeches,” she said to me. “They are tight on my thighs. But it is quite wonderful to feel so light, after so many layers.” She giggled as she gave a graceful pirouette. “No wonder you men manage the affairs of the world. It is far less tiring in lighter clothes!” She poked me in the chest. “I know your secret now.”
“Ha,” I said awkwardly. “Here.” I handed her a furred cloak, and passed another to Henry before putting on my own.
“The stars will soon be gone,” said Henry, peering out at the cloudy sky above the lake.
We each carried a rucksack and shouldered a coil of knotted rope. We lit two more lanterns.
I looked once more at Polidori’s map. “This way,” I said, venturing into the Sturmwald on a narrow path.
Among the tall trees, what little starlight remained was all but blocked. Though we each held a lantern, we could see no more than a few feet before us. We staggered on uphill. Sheathed in my belt was a dagger taken from our armory. It made me feel safer.
The sound of wind was building, and all around us in the undergrowth I heard animal noises. A distant pair of eyes flashed in the glare of our lanterns, and then was gone. They were not small eyes.
“Victor,” Henry said tightly, “there is an animal.”
“I saw it too,” said Elizabeth, and added hopefully, “perhaps a deer.”
“It’s long gone,” I said. “Nothing will come near the light.”
I said no more, but I sensed that the three of us were not alone. Some other presence kept pace with us, traveling on padded feet, its eyes capable of parting the night as easily as a curtain.
The trees grew taller. The wind moaned. The path narrowed, then seemed to disappear altogether. I paused to look again at the map.
“We should have reached a clearing by now,” I muttered.
“We’re lost, then,” said Henry.
“These lanterns are useless,” I said. “I feel trapped in their glare.”
I also felt vulnerable. Everything could see me, and I could see nothing. I envied the animals their dark vision. From my pocket I took the vial I had mixed earlier.
“Is that Polidori’s potion?” said Henry uneasily.
“The vision of the wolf,” I said, setting down my lantern. I pulled out the stopper, tilted my head, and tapped the vial. A thick drop welled out and hit my cheek. I tried again, and this time the liquid hit me squarely in the eye. I fought the urge to blink it away, and moved to my other eye. The next drop hit home.
“Is it working?” Elizabeth asked.
“It stings,” I said, and then suddenly the stinging became a searing pain. Instinctively I clenched my eyes shut. My fists flew up to scrub at them. What if I’d made the potion improperly? What if I were blinded? Fear broke free in me.
“Get me the water flask, Henry!” I cried.
“Here, here!” I heard him shout.
“I cannot see!” I bellowed.
“Give me the flask!” I heard Elizabeth tell him, and I felt her firm hand on my arm. “Stay still, Victor! Tip your head back. I will douse your eyes. Open them wide!”
I opened them wide-and abruptly the stinging stopped.
“Wait!” I said, and pulled roughly away from her. I blinked and stared about me.
The forest seemed eerily illuminated, the trunks painted silver, the earth beneath my feet glowing. Between the trees, amid the undergrowth, I caught sight of tiny animals, shrews and moles, going about their nighttime hunting.
Swarms of newly hatched mosquitoes scudded like clouds above the grass. From the base of a tree, a mouse tentatively lifted its head out from its nest, and higher up, an owl’s head swiveled, listening, predatory.
“Victor,” Elizabeth was saying. “Victor, are you all right?”
I realized I had not spoken a word for several seconds, had been looking all about me, drinking in the night with my eyes.
“Vision of the wolf,” I murmured. “It works. It works! ”
I turned toward Elizabeth, and her lantern’s light sent a piercing pain through my eyes.
“It is too bright for me,” I said, whirling away.
“Give me some,” said Elizabeth, setting down her lantern.
“It’s very painful at first,” I warned her.
“I want the vision too!”
“Very well. Come close.” I tipped her head back-and her lovely pale throat seemed to flash in the night. I tapped a drop into each of her hazel eyes.
“Ah!” she cried out, her hands flying to her face, just as mine had. “Water! Please, Victor, please!”
“No,” I said, and held her firmly as she struggled against me, whimpering. Then she opened her eyes and grew still. She drew away from me.
“I see you as though it were merely twilight,” she said.
“Yes.”
For a moment we just stared at each other with our wolf eyes. She looked different somehow. Perhaps it was the fur of her collar around her throat, but she was like some lithe animal.
“Henry,” I said, shielding my face from his lantern, “will you take some?”
“I will not,” he replied, and I could almost smell his fear as he beheld us warily, as though we were somehow changed.
“Put out the lanterns, then,” Elizabeth told him. Was her voice lower, almost hoarse, or was I imagining it?
“I think it wise to keep mine lit,” Henry said. “It will keep any animals at bay.”
“Very well,” I muttered, though I had no fear of other animals now. “Walk behind, so we are not blinded.”
“There is the clearing,” said Elizabeth, pointing.
Before, we might have walked right past it, but now it was obvious. I hurried through the trees and undergrowth and emerged before a vast heap of bones. I tilted my head to one side, trying to make sense of it. The hair lifted on the back of my neck. Elizabeth crouched beside me, breathing quietly. A moment later Henry’s lantern suddenly blazed off the bones, and he gave a cry.
It was hard to tell what animals the bones came from, since most were splintered and broken.
“What kind of creature could have done this?” Henry gasped.
