helping me read more quickly, like some new form of energy that speeds my mind.”
“How do you know you aren’t deceiving yourself?”
Yet he holds out his finger and clicks his tongue, as if summoning a cat. The butterfly, however, does not leave me.
“Well, we all want one now,” Elizabeth says with a laugh.
“It’s unbelievable,” I murmur, and with my empowered hand I inhale another book’s contents in a matter of seconds, and toss it to the floor.
“All nonsense,” I say. “I wouldn’t trust any of it.”
Across the room Konrad says, “How can you tell? All these books are filled with arcane spells and incantations. Why is one any less reliable than another?”
“The butterfly. It seems to know what I seek, and helps me sift the gold from the dross. But there’s no gold, not here. There’s something else,” I say, surprising myself.
“What do you mean?” Henry demands.
“Something I, we, should be looking for.”
“A different book?” Konrad wants to know.
“It’s hidden somewhere. I’ll know when I see it….”
The butterfly flies from my finger, and I give a cry of dismay. “Not yet!”
Henry immediately reaches out to lure it to him, but it avoids both our hands and settles instead on my temple, and in that same instant I see an arrangement of strange symbols in my head. I hardly dare breathe.
“I know these,” I mutter, closing my eyes, concentrating harder. They’re not symbols upon a page but cut into stone. Abruptly I stand.
“Where are you going?” Elizabeth demands.
The butterfly still rests on my temple, and I don’t want to lose it. “There’s writing in the caves.”
“What caves?” Konrad exclaims in frustration.
“Ah,” I say, “we forgot to tell you. We Frankensteins have the caves of an ancient culture under our château.”
“Are you mad?” I hear Konrad call out as I hurry down the stairs.
“No, it’s true,” says Elizabeth, following me. “Come see. It’s remarkable.”
“Anything else I should know about?” Konrad asks, exasperated. “In the few weeks I’ve been dead?”
I hurry to the bottom of the stairs and peer down into the fake well. I take hold of the ladder jutting up from the depths and swing myself onto its rungs.
“It was never a well?” Konrad asks in amazement as I climb down.
I reach bottom. The giant horses painted on the wall have an even greater force and dynamism, as if at any moment their muscular flanks will heave, their hooves kick up a cloud of grit. With my hand I reach up to make sure the butterfly is still poised on my head, but stop myself—I can sense it’s there, can feel the quiet, potent power it’s ready to bestow upon me.
Elizabeth is first to arrive. She looks about the cavern, but instead of wonder on her face, I see unease.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Don’t you feel it?”
I shake my head, bewildered.
“She’s right,” says Henry, stepping down and making room for Konrad to descend. “There’s a vile atmosphere it didn’t have before.”
“That sounds like the old Henry,” I say. “You can always wait in the library, if you like.”
“Don’t be an ass, Victor,” my brother says as he looks about the cavern. I notice his saber is in his belt. “There’s something not right about this place.”
Truly I feel no sense of foreboding, only a fierce impatience. “They’re just ancient, dank caves.”
“No. There’s something down here,” says Konrad.
“Yes, something we need.”
“That’s not what I meant,” my twin says, his hand on his hilt.
I think of the ominous sounds he’s heard from deep within the house. But fear does not touch me.
“All of you,” I say, “you have too much valor to hang back now! And we have nothing to fear.” I look at Henry and Elizabeth. “We’re the living! Light and heat pour off us. Nothing can harm us here! Trust me.”
With some reluctance they follow me through the high-vaulted galleries and chambers. This
“How do you know you aren’t deceiving yourself?”
Yet he holds out his finger and clicks his tongue, as if summoning a cat. The butterfly, however, does not leave me.
“Well, we all want one now,” Elizabeth says with a laugh.
“It’s unbelievable,” I murmur, and with my empowered hand I inhale another book’s contents in a matter of seconds, and toss it to the floor.
“All nonsense,” I say. “I wouldn’t trust any of it.”
Across the room Konrad says, “How can you tell? All these books are filled with arcane spells and incantations. Why is one any less reliable than another?”
“The butterfly. It seems to know what I seek, and helps me sift the gold from the dross. But there’s no gold, not here. There’s something else,” I say, surprising myself.
“What do you mean?” Henry demands.
“Something I, we, should be looking for.”
“A different book?” Konrad wants to know.
“It’s hidden somewhere. I’ll know when I see it….”
The butterfly flies from my finger, and I give a cry of dismay. “Not yet!”
Henry immediately reaches out to lure it to him, but it avoids both our hands and settles instead on my temple, and in that same instant I see an arrangement of strange symbols in my head. I hardly dare breathe.
“I know these,” I mutter, closing my eyes, concentrating harder. They’re not symbols upon a page but cut into stone. Abruptly I stand.
“Where are you going?” Elizabeth demands.
The butterfly still rests on my temple, and I don’t want to lose it. “There’s writing in the caves.”
“What caves?” Konrad exclaims in frustration.
“Ah,” I say, “we forgot to tell you. We Frankensteins have the caves of an ancient culture under our château.”
“Are you mad?” I hear Konrad call out as I hurry down the stairs.
“No, it’s true,” says Elizabeth, following me. “Come see. It’s remarkable.”
“Anything else I should know about?” Konrad asks, exasperated. “In the few weeks I’ve been dead?”
I hurry to the bottom of the stairs and peer down into the fake well. I take hold of the ladder jutting up from the depths and swing myself onto its rungs.
“It was never a well?” Konrad asks in amazement as I climb down.
I reach bottom. The giant horses painted on the wall have an even greater force and dynamism, as if at any moment their muscular flanks will heave, their hooves kick up a cloud of grit. With my hand I reach up to make sure the butterfly is still poised on my head, but stop myself—I can sense it’s there, can feel the quiet, potent power it’s ready to bestow upon me.
Elizabeth is first to arrive. She looks about the cavern, but instead of wonder on her face, I see unease.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Don’t you feel it?”
I shake my head, bewildered.
“She’s right,” says Henry, stepping down and making room for Konrad to descend. “There’s a vile atmosphere it didn’t have before.”
“That sounds like the old Henry,” I say. “You can always wait in the library, if you like.”
“Don’t be an ass, Victor,” my brother says as he looks about the cavern. I notice his saber is in his belt. “There’s something not right about this place.”
Truly I feel no sense of foreboding, only a fierce impatience. “They’re just ancient, dank caves.”
“No. There’s something down here,” says Konrad.
“Yes, something we need.”
“That’s not what I meant,” my twin says, his hand on his hilt.
I think of the ominous sounds he’s heard from deep within the house. But fear does not touch me.
“All of you,” I say, “you have too much valor to hang back now! And we have nothing to fear.” I look at Henry and Elizabeth. “We’re the living! Light and heat pour off us. Nothing can harm us here! Trust me.”
With some reluctance they follow me through the high-vaulted galleries and chambers. This
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