This Dark Endeavour (with Bonus Material) by Kenneth Oppel Page A

lantern?” Henry demanded. “Two free hands are needed!”
    “Dr. Polidori has done it, and we can do it too,” said Elizabeth, her eyes flashing angrily at Henry.
    “But your friend is right,” said Polidori. “Climbing a tree at night is a tricky business. A torch would set the tree alight, and a lantern is too cumbersome. I have something that may be of even greater use.”
    He passed me a thick padded wallet.
    “What is this?” I asked.
    “The ingredients for a simple compound. I would mix it for you myself, but its potency is brief and must be used within hours of being prepared. I have written instructions inside. And it will make your nighttime journey much easier.”
    I saw Elizabeth and Henry look at me uneasily.
    “Does this involve the devil’s works in any way?” Henry asked.
    Polidori laughed. “Good sir, neither the devil nor the angels have any part in my work.”
    “What exactly does the mixture do?” Elizabeth asked.
    “It gives you,” Polidori said, “the vision of the wolf.”
    When we returned home from the city, I was passing Dr. Murnau’s rooms and saw the door to his laboratory ajar.
    I stuck my head in and could see no sign of the doctor. But on a long trestle table was a great array of apparatus, and among them an open box filled with metal needles, glinting in the light. There was a whole row of them, of varying lengths. As if drawn, I stepped closer. The needles were hollow, their points more wickedly tapered than a serpent’s fang.
    My eyes travelled over the table to a rack that held six slim stoppered vials of ruby red blood. In shallow round glass dishes still more red fluid rested. Konrad’s blood. It was everywhere.
    I felt a chill. When I’d said to Elizabeth that the doctor was like a vampyre, it had been half in jest, but now I was not so sure. Why would one collect a person’s blood?
    “Would you like to look?” a voice said, and I jerked round with a start, to see Dr. Murnau emerging from his bedchamber, dressed for dinner.
    “I am sorry for intruding, sir,” I said, but his gaunt face showed no signs of anger.
    “You seem a curious lad,” he said. “Come here. Let me show you.”
    Near the window was set up an impressive microscope, the mirror angled to catch the light and illuminate the specimen. On the tray was a glass slide, with a bright red smear in the centre.
    “This is Konrad’s blood,” I said.
    “Please.” With his bony finger he gestured for me to look through the eyepiece.
    I lowered my face and closed one eye to peer in—
    And was astounded. There was a living world before me. Rounded objects moved and collided. As I watched, some pinched in half and became two. Others clung to one another until one withered and died.
    “This is all in his blood?” I said, terrified.
    “Your blood wouldn’t look dissimilar.”
    “What are they all doing?”
    “Ah.” He raised his eyebrows. “I’ll share my thoughts with all of you tonight.”
    I said nothing, staring into the microscope. We were all hosts, it seemed, to countless millions of organisms, each with its own complicated intelligence.
    “Fascinating, isn’t it?” he said.
    I nodded, still staring. The world was filled with mystery, and I wanted to discover all its secrets.
    “Is his blood normal?” I asked.
    “No.”
    I looked up at him quickly. “Can you make it so?”
    “That is a matter of further investigation,” he said. “And a matter for your father and me to discuss.”
    “Of course,” I said, standing.
    “In future, Victor, I’d rather you didn’t enter my laboratory unless I’m here. My equipment’s delicate. I’ll see you at dinner,” he said, and I realized I had been dismissed.
    I returned to my room to dress.
    “I believe that your son has a self-generated abnormality of the blood,” said Dr. Murnau.
    It was after dinner. William and Ernest had been taken to the nursery by Justine, and the rest of the family had retired to the west sitting room. I