Elizabeth and I began to laugh, soaked to the skin in the rain.
“We are fine, Henry!” she called. “Krake came to our assistance!”
I looked at Elizabeth in amazement. “You bit the vulture! In the throat!”
She looked confused for a moment, then slowly nodded, and began laughing even harder. “It seemed-like the only-thing to do.”
I could still see the savage expression on her face. It should have repelled me, but it only attracted me. I felt a powerful urge to crush her against me and drink in her heat and scent that had been distracting me all night. My eyes settled on her mouth. I shook my head to dislodge the thought.
“What did it taste like?” I asked.
“I have no idea,” she said, then wrinkled her nose and wiped her mouth, spitting. “Did I really bite it?”
I nodded. “Let’s get out of this tree.”
Carefully, for the tree was treacherously slippery and our limbs were weak, we climbed down through the branches to the rope. Elizabeth went first, and then I, hand over hand, my body shaking. Henry was there to wrap my cloak about me as my feet touched earth. I sank down next to Elizabeth to catch my breath.
Henry seemed the most shaken of all of us. His cheeks were flushed and he paced about in the lantern light and fired questions at us.
“Sparks rained down on me from above; I feared the whole forest would ignite!” he exclaimed. “And then a wildcat was leaping for me and up the tree! I had no idea what to think! Honestly, Polidori might have told us he was sending Krake!”
The lynx landed on the earth beside us. I reached out and scratched the fur between his ears. He purred loudly. I wondered if it was Krake I’d seen, keeping pace with us through the forest. His green eyes settled on me calmly, and I knew his intelligence was not to be underestimated. Polidori had obviously trained him well, so well that he could follow us to the Sturmwald and watch over us, should we encounter danger.
“What matters is that we got it,” I said. “The first ingredient!”
“I just hope it’s enough,” said Elizabeth with a frown, pulling the vial from her pocket.
The lynx butted me gently with his head, then again more insistently. Tied around his neck was a small pouch. He looked at me expectantly. I unclasped the pouch, and inside was a handwritten note. Dear Sir, I trust all went well in the Sturmwald, and that Krake was of some assistance. I hope his presence did not alarm you. To save you a trip to Geneva, you may place the lichen in Krake’s pouch and he will return it to me immediately. My work on the translation continues. Come again in three days if you so please.
Your humble servant,
Julius Polidori
I showed Elizabeth the letter.
“A strange messenger, but I’m sure most reliable,” she said, and placed the vial carefully within Krake’s pouch.
Without delay the lynx leapt into the forest, streaking back toward Geneva and his master.
CHAPTER SEVEN
I woke to the sounds of a chambermaid moving about my room. The curtains of my bed were still drawn, but I heard her opening my shutters and setting out my fresh wash basin, and tea. I waited for the sound of her picking up my chamber pot and leaving. But instead I heard her sit down with a contented sigh and start whistling. I frowned. What was she doing? Then came the sound of her pouring a cup of tea, and the clink of china as she sipped at it! We were a liberal household, but still, this was taking things a bit far!
“Are you going to lie there all day, you lazy carcass?” she asked.
Except that it wasn’t a she. It was a he, and I knew the voice as well as my own.
I tore my curtains aside and stared.
Wearing a white nightshirt, my twin sat calmly in the dappled morning sunlight, sipping my tea.
“Konrad!” I exclaimed, and then I felt dizzy and feared I was only dreaming. “Konrad?”
“Good heavens, Victor,” he said. “You’d think you’d seen a ghost!”
He smiled, and suddenly the fearful spell was broken. I leapt off the bed and ran to him. He stood to meet me, and we threw our arms about each other.
“You are all better?” I cried.
“Much improved, anyway,” he said.
Beneath his nightshirt I felt his bones. I pulled back to look at him. His face was still drawn, but his skin no longer had that papery look, and in his cheeks was a hint of color.
“Your fever is gone,” I said.
He nodded. “The good doctor’s medicine seems to be working.”
For a moment, just the smallest of moments, a curious thought swirled through my mind. I was meant to be the one to heal him, to put the Elixir of Life to his lips and watch as the color and vigor rushed back into his body.
But then I was overcome with shame for such a petty thought, and was once more flooded with relief and sheer joy.
“Do Mother and Father know?” I asked.
“Not yet. I wanted to see you first.”
“Let’s go tell everyone!” I said. “Right away!”
It was indescribably wonderful to have Konrad at our table for meals, to see him dressed and walking about, to hear his laughter.
He was much thinner, and weak still, but he had a good appetite, and in no time at all he would be his old self again.
It was like Christmas and everyone’s birthday combined. Mother and Father seemed suddenly younger, Elizabeth’s smile dimmed the sunshine, William and Ernest were giddy with excitement, and the servants fixed every single one of Konrad’s favorite dishes.
Every day for several hours he needed to return to his bed so that he could be pricked with Dr. Murnau’s needle and have more medicine dripped into his veins. Dr. Murnau said he had to get a good deal of rest and not overexert himself.
In another two days Konrad’s treatment was finished.
Dr. Murnau was greatly pleased with my brother’s progress and made arrangements to return in three months to check on him again.
I helped the doctor pack up his laboratory. His glassware and apparatus reminded me of Mr. Polidori’s, and I still wondered how different these two men were. But I felt foolish. I’d had such grand thoughts of helping create a fantastical elixir of life. But Dr. Murnau had been methodical and scientific, and he had succeeded. As usual it seemed Father was right and all these old books were nothing but nonsense.
“You have the fire of curiosity in you,” Dr. Murnau said to me as I finished replacing the last of the flasks in their velvet casings. “Do you have an interest in the natural sciences?”
“I am not sure,” I said. “I believe I may.”
“Ingolstadt has a very fine university,” said the doctor. “We are always glad of keen students who can help advance our learning in chemistry and biology. Perhaps one day I will see you there.”
“Perhaps,” I said.
He offered me his hand. “Good luck to you, young Victor.”
“Thank you, sir,” I said.
The day was warm and beautiful, and Father had canceled our morning lessons and ordered us to go outdoors and enjoy ourselves. Mother told us not to go far. We did not want to worry her-she had been through enough already-so we promised her we would stay within sight of the chateau at all times.
Moments after our boat sailed clear from the dock, Konrad looked at Elizabeth and Henry and me, and said,
