“That will not make it so,” said Henry.
Before I could reply, Elizabeth said fervently, “If our prayers to God have any influence on the workings of this world, we can make it so. We must! Banish your doubts if you have them. Konrad will be well again.”
She spoke with utter conviction, her face gleaming, and although I did not believe in God as she did, I found myself nodding. And the familiar, hateful thought stole into my head once more.
She could be mine if…
Right then I wished I could pray. I would pray to be free of my wayward thoughts. I would pray, Let him live. How reassuring it would be to believe there was a kindly God looking over us, that he would take pity on our toil and suffering and grant us what we asked.
But I knew it was not true, and there was no point indulging in such fantasy. The only source of power on this earth was our own.
We sailed on through the night, and though Henry reassured me again and again that hardly any time had passed, our voyage seemed to be taking forever. The dark line of the shore never grew any closer. We merely hovered in darkness.
The pain in my right hand increased. The pain itself I could endure, but nothing would bring my fingers back. For the first time I felt resentment.
I had sacrificed a part of my body.
I had given something away.
And in return I would get my brother’s life. He would live-and not just live. He would be immune to all illness, a paragon of health and strength. He would be even more beautiful and skilled than before. What chance would I have then with Elizabeth?
Even if I bent my entire will to the task, tried my hardest, could I win her? I had kissed her lips too. I had sniffed her wolf scent and tasted her blood, like some vampire, always hungry for more. Konrad knew only part of her. Her sweetness and goodness and good humor and intelligence. But he had not witnessed her full power and fury and passion.
I knew her better, and now I could never have her-and would be crippled for life.
I felt the vial against my leg, its weight far greater than seemed right for its small size. Almost without realizing it, I drew it out.
What would a drop do? I wondered. Just a drop. There would be enough for Konrad still. Would a drop ease my pain? Would it cause new fingers to grow, starfishlike, from the blackened stumps?
I pulled the vial from its sheath and beheld its dark luster in the moonlight. If Polidori had thought it would heal his shattered legs, then surely it could birth two small fingers…
“Victor,” said Henry.
“Hmm, what?” I said testily.
“Best put it back into your pocket. If the boat heels, you may drop it.”
I noticed that Elizabeth too watched me closely.
I sniffed. “Very well.” I slid it into my pocket.
From within the boat’s cabin something shifted.
“It is just a stray fish flopping about,” I said with a laugh. But I looked to shore. We were still a good thirty minutes away.
Elizabeth stepped back toward me. “Victor, there is something in there.”
I saw the flash of eyes. A dreadful elongated shadow burst from the cabin, aimed directly at me, and sank its teeth into my leg. I bellowed, but not in pain. Somehow the long teeth had pierced only my trousers.
It took me a moment to realize what this thing was, for the moon had transformed Krake into a ghostly apparition, with black eyes and a jagged, cratered mouth. Jaws clenched, he pulled back, tearing out my pocket.
“The elixir!” I cried as the vial flew out and hit the deck. At once the lynx pounced upon it, mouth wide, as if to snap it up and crush it.
Henry was closest, and immediately clouted Krake on the side of the head. The lynx recoiled with a snarl, spitting, and sprang up onto the cabin roof, his head swinging swiftly from Henry to Elizabeth to me, unsure of whom to attack. He showed his teeth, and they seemed unnaturally numerous-and sharp.
We all faltered. Henry took a step back. On the floor of the cockpit the vial rolled to and fro. Krake’s eyes impaled it. Before I could make a move, Elizabeth ran for it. The lynx pounced, slamming against her legs and knocking her off her feet. With one paw he swiped at her face. She raised her arm to ward off the blow, but not quickly enough. She gave a cry. I saw bloody claw marks across her cheek.
I let go the tiller and lunged at Krake, but in one supple move he avoided me and scooped the vial into his jaws.
“No!” I bellowed, as the beast nimbly vaulted onto the cabin roof. I looked over at Elizabeth. “Are you all right?”
“He wants the elixir for Polidori!” she shouted. “Look how he holds it in his mouth!”
I too saw how the fiendish beast did not chew the vial but with his tongue pushed it delicately to one side. He was as wicked and clever as a witch’s familiar. He’d sat on the hearth, mesmerized by the hiss of his master’s voice snaking up the chimney, and received his orders.
Krake looked now in all directions as if trying to decide which way was closest to land.
“He means to jump!” I cried. “Elizabeth, take the tiller!”
Overmastered by my panic and anger, I hurled myself again at the lynx, knowing he would fight me tooth and claw. But I had tooth and claw too, and meant to use them. Krake seemed to sense my bloody resolve, and darted toward the bow.
“Come here, you overgrown puss!” I scrambled after him.
Henry reached the lynx first and threw his body on top of him. Krake snarled and scratched, and the vial fell from his mouth and rolled along the deck toward the starboard edge. I watched in horror as it knocked against the low railing. A good jostle would send it into the lake.
Henry was trying his best to grip Krake around the neck, but the lynx suddenly made himself skinny and squirted through his arms. The cat looked around wildly. I cursed myself for wasting time, and lunged now for the vial. But the lynx’s speed was unnatural, and once more he took it into his mouth And jumped into the black water.
I had time only to shout “Heave to!” before I threw myself over the side. It was like plunging into night, so silky and dark was it beneath the surface. I came up, treading water, casting about, trying to spot Krake.
“Where is he?” I shouted back to the boat.
“There! There!” cried Henry, pointing.
I looked and caught sight of the slick hump of Krake’s head, so low to the surface that it was almost impossible to track. He swam with surprising speed, and I started after him, pulling and kicking hard. After the glacial coelacanth pool, I scarcely noticed the coldness of the lake. In the moonlight I saw Krake outstripping me.
My spirit faltered, and I felt a great grief well up inside me and weaken me further. We had lost the elixir. We had failed. I had failed.
Then I heard the low gurgle of a hull moving through water, and turned to see the boat slice past me, Elizabeth at the tiller and Henry in the prow, spotting, speeding after Krake. Then, when they were abreast of him, Elizabeth let the sails go slack. I saw her bend down and from the cockpit throw one of the fishermen’s nets. It flew beautifully, unfurling in the moonlight and settling over a large patch of the water, like a great web.
“We have him!” she cried. “Henry, help me pull!”
Within the net thrashed Krake, getting dragged back toward the boat. The sight charged me with hope, and I swam hard, barely noticing the pain in my hand. Elizabeth and Henry hauled Krake alongside the hull and tied up the net tightly to the starboard cleats so that the lynx hung suspended just above the water’s surface. Breathless, I reached the boat, and Henry helped me aboard. I was streaming wet.
Elizabeth fetched more lanterns and lit them so we could see the sodden lynx properly, green eyes flashing malevolently.
“He still holds the vial!” cried Elizabeth. “It’s unbroken!”
I saw it, tossing about in the lynx’s mouth as he yowled balefully at us.
