I nodded. “With his help we’ve been assembling the ingredients for the Elixir of Life.”
Her eyes widened. “But surely your father-”
“Knows nothing of Polidori’s involvement, no. And mustn’t. But we are very close to creating the elixir, and I must get word to Mr. Polidori of our predicament.”
“Victor,” she said, and paused as someone passed the door, “surely there’s no need, now that Konrad is healed.”
“It may only be a temporary cure,” I said. “Father does not want that known, even by Mother.”
“I see,” she said. I did not like divulging this information, but I needed all the ammunition at my disposal.
“Will you deliver my note?” I asked.
“I am loathe to do it,” she said bluntly. “When I heard of your adventuring in the caves… It’s a miracle you did not all perish.”
“But, Maria, you helped set us on this path,” I reminded her.
The fingers of her left hand rubbed nervously against her arm-rest. “I know, and it was wrong of me, I think.”
“It’s but a small matter of delivering a letter to his house-and awaiting his reply.”
“Your Father would be furious if he found out.”
“But he will not find out,” I said. “Just as he never found out it was you who told us about Julius Polidori in the first place.”
She looked at me carefully. “I did it only for Konrad’s sake.”
“I know,” I said. “I know. But we must keep each other’s secrets, mustn’t we?”
I daresay she thought I was threatening her. I would never have done anything to get her in trouble-but perhaps it was best to let her imagine I might.
“Very well,” she said with heavy reluctance. “Give me the address. I will be your messenger.”
I passed her the note, already written and sealed with wax.
“And one last thing, Maria. Do not tell him who you are, or for whom you work.”
In the evening I slid downstairs and found Maria again. She scarcely looked at me as she handed me a sealed letter. And then she gave a shiver, as though relieved to be rid of the thing. Instantly I slipped it into my pocket.
“To be in that shop of his gave me grave doubts,” she whispered. “And the fellow himself… and that cat of his!”
I kissed Maria on the cheek, as I used to do when little.
“Thank you,” I said. “You have done a great service.”
“I hope it is the last.” She looked at me, and I thought I saw a flicker of fear on her face.
I went upstairs to my bedchamber, closed and locked the door, and opened the letter. Dear Sir, Thank you for your letter. Please rest assured that I did indeed receive the coelacanth head from your friend and that it yielded oils ample for the purpose.
I now understand that you are temporarily detained, and I am most relieved that our venture remains secret-as it must. If I do not hear otherwise from you, I will assume you wish me to continue my work. The translation is cumbersome, but proceeds apace, and I have no doubt I will soon know the third and final ingredient. When I have succeeded, I will leave a message for you, as per your instructions, by the Gallimard crypt in the Bellerive graveyard. Until then, I remain,
Your humble servant,
Julius Polidori
For the moment I had done all I could. Now I had to wait.
I became a keeper of secrets.
I did not tell Konrad or Elizabeth of Father’s alchemy. I did not tell them of my resolve to pursue our adventure. What good would it do? It wouldn’t change their minds. They were too busy being in love. If Konrad did not have the sense to obtain the elixir, I would have to do it for him.
If he were to get sick again, I would have his cure. I would have the power to bring him back from the dead.
And what else might I have the power to do?
That night, sleep would not come to me, and by candlelight I once more opened the slim green volume, the last remnant of the forbidden Dark Library.
The love potion was so childishly simple that I almost doubted it: A drop of fish oil. Sugar to mask the fish oil. A drop of clover honey to sweeten it further. A pinch of thyme. The juice of three crushed rose petals. A small measure of pure glacier water. Two pinches of rosemary. A strand of the maker’s hair, cut and ground as finely as possible. A drop of blood from your heart’s desire.
These items would be easy to come by. Only the last worried me-until I remembered my handkerchief. I had kept it hidden away in my chest of drawers. I did not want it laundered, for upon it was a spot of Elizabeth’s blood, from her sweet lips.
I could cut out the spot and drop the bit of linen into my mixture.
The recipe called for the liquid to sit for a day and night, and then be drunk by my heart’s desire.
That would not be so hard. During our fencing practice we often had a refreshing cordial. I would pour a goblet for Elizabeth and deftly add the sweet potion to her glass.
She would love me. The tincture would make her love me.
A sudden fury overpowered me, and I hurled the book against the wall.
This I knew: There would be no victory in winning Elizabeth through alchemical tricks.
I was not so lovable as Konrad, no. I would never have his charm, or grace or patience or effortless skill at things. But I had the same fine body, and what mine contained had more grit and determination and passion.
Were these not things worth loving?
I’d felt her wolf’s heat that night in the Sturmwald. She’d been mine then, and I would make her mine again.
On my own, and for good.
Afterward I fell into a fitful sleep. I dreamed I was trekking through the Alps and Krake was my only companion. I was searching for something but did not know what. I looked everywhere, with more and more desperation. Krake’s green eyes regarded me solemnly, but he could not help me.
Night came on, and I found a cave and lay down to sleep. Krake stretched out beside me, and I was glad of his comforting warmth.
The dream dissolved, but the warmth remained. Half-awake, I thought nothing of it at first. But then it seemed to intensify, and suddenly I was fully awake, like a desperate swimmer breaching the water’s surface, hungry for air.
I was not alone in my bed.
I lay very still on my right side. Something warm and soft pressed snugly against my back. An arm was draped over my chest. A hand rested against my pounding heart.
I inhaled shakily-breathing in the heady scent of Elizabeth’s hair and skin.
She must have been sleepwalking again, and had once more found her way into my bed, just as she had as a little girl. But she was no longer seven years old, and as I lay there, I was all too aware of the new curves of her woman’s body.
Her heat seemed to travel through me, blooming in my cheeks, under my arms, between my legs. I scarcely dared breathe, for fear of waking her, for fear of ending this moment.
But I had to do something. I could not let her sleep the night there. Panicked thoughts galloped through my head. Imagine if a servant came in to find us like this. How could I explain it? Sweat prickled my forehead.
Gently I pulled away and slowly rolled over to face her.
My breath caught in my throat. I’d expected to find her fast asleep, but her eyes were wide open. Her cheek rested on my pillow, and her lips were twitched into a mischievous smile-one that I had never before seen on her. I gazed, transfixed by her beauty, at once familiar and foreign. Was this really the Elizabeth I had grown up with?
Almost at once I could tell she wasn’t truly looking at me. Like the last time, she gazed through me, at her
