Such Wicked Intent by Kenneth Oppel Page A

should’ve known this was your intent all along. Just when I think your egotism has found its limit, you amaze me afresh. Yes, we’ve passed into the realm of the dead—a placewe likely shouldn’t have—and yes, we saw Konrad’s spirit. But do you actually think you have any authority in that place?”
    “We’ll see.”
    “No. We will not see. Only God resurrects people, Victor, and, as startling as this might be to you, you are not God !”
    “I never said I was,” I retorted. “You see, this is exactly my point. You think only your God has the power to govern these worlds. All I’m doing is raising a question: Might we as well?”
    She swallowed. “I feel sickened by all this. It was a mistake.”
    “What about Konrad? I thought you loved—”
    “Yes, and that’s precisely why I can’t bear it again. It’s torture, Victor, for him and me. I vowed to let him go.” More quietly she said, “Nothing good can come of it. I won’t go again.”
    I took a moment to marshal my thoughts. I nodded. “I understand. If this is something I have to do alone, so be it. All I know is that Wilhelm Frankenstein somehow found a way into the spirit world, and who knows what else he found? He might’ve made all sorts of incredible discoveries. Maybe he even knew how to bring the dead back to life. If he did, there must be some record of it.”
    “The Dark Library is ash now,” said Henry.
    This stopped me for a moment, and then I realized something.
    “Only in our world,” I said with a grin. “In the spirit world it’s still there. Every book that ever came into this house will still be there, unburned, unblemished.”
    “Books,” said Henry wearily. “Our last adventure was filled with books, and—”
    “It ended with failure, yes. Alchemy and science, primitive and modern, they failed us. But clearly the occult holds more wisdom than I gave it credit for. There will be a great many books to read….” I looked over at Henry. “For someone as clever as you, it would not be nearly so great a chore.”
    “Your flattery’s shameless,” Elizabeth said. “Henry’s too sane to help you with such a mad plan.”
    I sighed, nodding. “It’s too bad, though, Henry. Inside the spirit world there’s such total… vitality . Elizabeth felt it too. Somehow it makes us more of what we are. It gave me my fingers back. What might it give you?”
    I saw him chew at his lip.
    “It’s remarkable.” I watched his face, trying to gauge if I were swaying him. “You’ll find what’s best about you, what’s most powerful. It allows you to be the self you always wanted to be but kept hidden, or thwarted. I felt I could do anything—”
    Henry laughed sarcastically. “That’s nothing new!”
    I chuckled. “No, maybe not. But inside it just might be true.”
    “I’ve had enough of this blasphemous talk,” said Elizabeth. “Good night, both of you.”
    “Don’t forget your prayers,” I said before she shut the door.
    “That was a bit sharp,” said Henry.
    “But funny,” I replied, and we both laughed.
    Henry looked at me, intent. “What else?”
    “Inside it’s simpler, truer.” I thought of Elizabeth, how our feelings for each other had been raw and uncomplicated, animal in their urgency. “There’s nothing stopping you from doing anything you might like.”
    He looked away, as though afraid of betraying some secret. “Truly?”
    “Truly.”
    He blinked and pushed his wispy blond hair back from his forehead. “When you next go, I’ll come with you.”
    *   *   *
    I woke early the next morning, dressed, and waited in the music room for Elizabeth to pass by on her way to breakfast. When I heard her footfalls in the hallway, I trilled a few notes on the piano—the same melody that Konrad had played the night before—and heard her stop. Hesitantly she entered the room.
    I improvised a tune on the keys and quietly sang, “I don’t think someone’s quite ready for the convent