“You said it was Mother’s wish that Elizabeth marry one of us. Wasn’t that right?”
“Yes. Why?”
“So she wasn’t picky about which one?”
Konrad dropped his guard for a moment, but was quick enough to parry when I lunged.
“What if,” I panted, “you and I were to love the same person? What if I loved Elizabeth too?”
We circled warily.
“But you don’t.”
“Pretend I do.”
He shrugged. “It would be a disappointment to you. Because she loves me.”
In my temper I lunged clumsily. He knocked my blade to the side and hit me.
“A point,” he said. “We are tied. En garde. ”
“Allez!” I said. “Are you so sure she could love only you? That you’re so much better than me?”
“Victor, I didn’t say that.”
“But you think it.”
“Why are you so angry?”
“Because people will always love you best,” I said. “You are… a more charming person. No doubt kinder, too.”
He laughed. “I’ve never thought so.” Backward and forward we tested each other.
“You do not really love Elizabeth, do you?” he said.
“No,” I lied.
Konrad lunged and scored his winning hit, right on my heart.
He sighed, lifting his mask. “That is a relief. A fine bout. I am still out of shape. We must do this more often.”
My brother had kept a secret from me, and now I would keep one from him.
I will have Elizabeth as my own.
CHAPTER TEN
Someone should stay behind with the horses,” said Konrad.
Despite Temerlin’s careful map, it had taken us a good half hour to find the entrance to the cave in the foothills. It was a man-size cleft in a rocky outcropping, partly hidden behind shrubs. The four of us dismounted and started to unload the gear from our saddlebags.
“The horses can take care of themselves,” Elizabeth said. “We’ll hobble them, and they can graze. I saw a creek just over there where they can drink.”
“I think you should stay with the horses,” said Konrad.
I smiled to myself, knowing what was coming.
“I’ll do no such thing,” she said indignantly. “Victor knows how capable I am.”
“I’ll vouch for it a hundred times over,” I said.
“I didn’t say you weren’t-,” Konrad tried to say.
“Then, please don’t insult me by suggesting I shouldn’t come. You stay with the horses if you like.”
“I will stay with them,” said Henry, eyeing the cave opening with some horror. “There is the small matter of my claustrophobia.”
I looked at Henry. “I didn’t know you suffered from that affliction as well.”
“Oh, yes,” he said. “Quite badly. In combination with my fear of heights and my general excess of imagination, it creates a veritable typhoon of fear.”
“A very nice turn of phrase,” said Elizabeth, filling her pack.
“Thank you,” said Henry. “In any event, you’ll want someone out here in case you get lost and need rescuing. I have brought some books to read.”
“An excellent idea,” I said, thumping him on the shoulder. “Write some poetry too while you wait.”
“Indeed,” he said, inspecting his pocket watch. “It is now nine in the morning. In order to reach the chateau before sundown, you will need to be back here no later than six o’clock.”
“Nine hours,” I said. “More than enough time for a stroll and a bit of fishing, eh, Konrad?”
“Don’t be surprised if we’re back before lunch, Henry,” he said, shouldering his rucksack.
“Be careful,” said Henry as I buckled on my scabbard. Just knowing my saber was at my hip made me feel armored, invincible.
“Konrad, you have your clock?” Henry asked.
“Of course,” he said, nodding at me. “We both do.”
We passed through the opening, and in that one step, summer evaporated. An ancient cold emanated from the stone. We’d done well in dressing warmly. The cave was large, and clearly no stranger to humans. Near the entrance the remnants of campfires were scattered about, and pictures and names were scratched on the stone walls. There was the whiff of urine and animal scat.
“Is your pack too heavy?” Konrad asked Elizabeth.
“I’ll manage it,” she said.
Mine was certainly heavier than I would’ve liked. Outside, when Konrad and I had divided up the gear, we’d made sure to make our two packs the weightiest. Elizabeth set hers down and, without preamble, pulled her skirt off over her boots. Beneath she wore a pair of pantaloons.
She caught me staring at her. “You didn’t think I was going to go caving in a dress, did you?”
“Of course not. Very sensible,” I said, hoping she couldn’t see the heat in my cheeks.
Konrad made to light the lanterns.
“Wait,” I said. “We may not need them.”
I’d been looking forward to this moment. From my rucksack I took a sealed glass container. Inside was neither oil nor wick, just a fist-size lump of dull white matter.
“What is that?” Elizabeth asked.
“Behold,” I said, “the flameless fire!”
I opened a small vent in the side of the container, and at once the white matter began to glow green, dimly at first, but then with greater intensity, casting a ghostly light about the cave.
Elizabeth gasped, drawing closer. “How does it do that? It does not burn.”
“Nor give off heat. It needs only a bit of oxygen to glow.” I sealed off the vent, and still the lump emitted its green light.
“How did you make this?” she demanded. “It’s miraculous.”
“Polidori told me where I could find the recipe.”
“You are turning into an accomplished alchemist, Victor,” she said, but I wasn’t sure her remark was entirely complimentary. “Its glow is unsettling.”
“Not at all,” I replied. “It’s merely one of earth’s elements. Phosphorous.”
“Very impressive,” said Konrad. “But I think, for exploring, our lanterns are still better.”
On point of pride I was about to protest, but I could see he was right. The lantern flames would be much brighter.
“I never meant for us to use it the whole time,” I lied. “It is in case our lanterns run out-or get wet.”
I carefully put the container back into its protective case.
Our three lanterns lit, I led the way to the back of the cave, Temerlin’s map in my hand. There were three tunnels.
“This is ours,” I said, nodding at the middle one.
With white chalk Elizabeth clearly marked the corner, and we started down the gentle slope. I took a quick glance back, at the gash of daylight from the cave mouth, and then squinted ahead into the lantern’s glow.
We were lucky. The tunnels might have been mud, but they were stone, and high-ceilinged, and we were
