This Dark Endeavour (with Bonus Material) by Kenneth Oppel Read Free Book Online Page B

think me angry.”
    “No, ma’am. It’s just—I overheard what the doctor said about … not knowing how to treat him, and how, if he continues to weaken …”
    My blood congealed in my veins as I strained to listen. What had the doctor said? But there were no more words spoken, only sniffing, and little sobs, and I sensed the two of them were embracing and comforting each other. Then came my mother’s voice, a little shaky.
    “You are a dear, dear member of our family, Maria,” she said.
    “I could not love him more were he my own son.”
    “We are doing all we can. Alphonse has heard of another doctor, a Dr. Murnau, who’s a specialist in rare diseases at the university in Ingolstadt. We’ve sent a messenger to make inquiries.”
    “I will keep praying, then, ma’am,” said Maria, “if that does not offend you.”
    “Of course not, Maria, certainly not. I must confess, I have found myself praying too of late. I doubt anyone hears but me, though.”
    “With respect, ma’am, someone is listening. You mustn’t despair so.”
    I turned and silently walked away down the corridor, for I did not want them to know I’d been eavesdropping.
    I desperately wished I knew what Maria had said earlier, about alchemy.
    Did she know of some treatment that might help Konrad?
    That night as I slept, my mind took me to Father’s library, and there I sat, surrounded by medical books, struggling with Latin and Greek, striving to cure Konrad.
    I turned a page and there, embedded in the thick paper, was a seed. With great excitement I plucked it out and cradled it in my cupped hands, for I knew I had to plant it immediately or it would perish. But the door to the great hallway was locked, and though I rattled it and shouted, no one came to open it.
    My panic grew, for the seed was already starting to decay. There was a stirring of air, though no windows were open, and I looked across the library to see the secret door ajar.
    I’d promised Father, but what else could I do? The seed must be planted and I knew there was a well, and water, and earth down there.
    The seed gripped in my hand, I hurried through the door to find no splintered planks, but a swirling marble staircase. At the bottom, bathed in impossible sunlight, was the well, surrounded by fragrant and fertile soil.
    I dug a small hole with my hands and planted the seed. Almost at once a green tendril shot up, thickening and sending out slender branches—and from the branches dangled little white bones.
    I was frightened by this and stepped backward, but I could see that growing among the bones was also fruit—red and luscious. And from the highest branch—for the tree was already taller than me—blossomed a book.
    I started to climb up, but the tree kept growing, taking the book higher still.
    I climbed faster, and with increasing desperation and rage, knowing that I must have that book.
    But I could not reach it.
    “We must return to the Dark Library,” I said fiercely.
    It was the morning after my dream and we were hiking in the hills behind Bellerive—Elizabeth, Henry, and me. The day could not have been more beautiful. An unblemished blue sky spanned the white-capped mountain ranges encircling the lake. Everywhere things were growing: wildflowers sprang from the fields, trees bloomed, new leaves unfolded from branches. Life everywhere—and Konrad trapped at home in his sickbed.
    “For what purpose, Victor?” Elizabeth asked.
    “So we can heal Konrad,” I said.
    “Isn’t that best left to the doctors?” said Henry.
    “Damn the doctors!” I said. “They’re little more than barbers with pills. I wouldn’t trust them to groom my dog! Konrad’s getting weaker by the day. We must take action.”
    “Action?” said Henry. “What manner of action?”
    “For someone whose imagination is so ripe, you can be a bit dim sometimes, Henry,” I said. “We must seek our own cure.”
    Henry looked shocked, as did Elizabeth, who said, “Victor, we made