"Believe it or not, I'm glad to see you," Henry said. "It's nice to have someone I can properly gloat in front of."
When he spoke, Osseal's song grew louder, and his words took on an almost musical lilt. The flute's tone was a sad, haunting one, and even though I was protected from its influence by the Loa necklace, this close I could feel a slight pull from the instrument, as if it were calling to me. I knew that Victor Baron heard its music clearly, and that meant he was under Henry's control.
Henry looked at Burke and Hare. "You two can go now – and take the creatures with you." He gestured at our monstrous escorts.
Burke frowned. "You sure?"
Henry smiled. "Your concern for my safety is appreciated, but as formidable of opponents as Mr. Richter and Ms. Kanti may be, I believe I can handle them. Besides, I have Victor to protect me." He patted Baron on the shoulder, and while Baron's mouth tightened in anger, he gave no other reaction to Henry's touch.
Henry went on. "I want you two outside to direct the creatures at the gate. It won't be long before Quillion sends his Sentinels to pay us a visit. We'll need to be ready for them."
"Righto," Burke said before turning to me. "Pleasure seeing you again," he said to me with a mocking grin.
"Likewise," Hare said. "Call us the next time you need a trim. We'll be glad to take a little off the top."
Laughing, the two men left the room, taking the guardmonsters with them.
"So," Henry said once the others had departed, "are you surprised to discover I'm the ultimate villain in this little drama? Please tell me you didn't guess it was me. I'd be so disappointed if you had."
"I can truthfully say we didn't see it coming," I said. "So Baron had absolutely nothing to do with Osseal's theft?"
"Depends on how you look at it," Henry said. "In one sense he's responsible for everything that's happened." His jovial mood vanished then, and his tone grew cold. "Do you know how he came by his name? Victor Baron? He decided to take the name of his father, Baron Victor Frankenstein. Of course, he was determined to be his own man, too." He turned to Baron. "Didn't want to live his life in Daddy's shadow, did you?"
Baron glared at Henry but otherwise didn't respond.
Henry continued. "So instead of taking the Frankenstein surname, he indulged in a bit of juvenile wordplay and become Victor Baron. Pathetic, really, and more than a bit disrespectful, don't you think?"
As I listened to Henry talk, a suspicion began to form in my mind. "When we first met, I thought you were Baron's assistant. But you're not, are you?"
Devona looked at me, puzzled. "What do you mean?"
"When Henry rose from the chair and I saw he'd surgically grafted Osseal to himself, my first thought was that he was simply a disgruntled employee who was tired of being number two and wanted to take over his boss's business for himself." I turned to Henry. "But it's more than that, isn't it? A lot more."
Henry gave me a look so cold that, if he'd been Acantha, I'd have turned to stone on the spot.
Devona's eyes widened in sudden realization.
"You're Dr. Frankenstein!" she said.
Henry inclined his head. "At your service."
"If that's true, then why go by the name Henry?"
"It's my middle name. And I wasn't about to call myself Victor anymore. Not after he took the name."
I thought back to the interactions I'd observed between Baron and Henry. Henry had been more than a bit snarky toward Baron, but the latter had tolerantly accepted the other's behavior. At the time, I'd thought Baron had been simply too caught up in his work to care, but now I recognized his tolerance as that of an adult child good-naturedly putting up with the irritating behavior of an older relative.
"Why the resentment toward Baron?" I asked. "He seemed to treat you well enough. More like a partner than an assistant."
"That's what he wanted everyone to believe," Henry said. "But in truth he regards me as an inferior intellect, barely fit to wash out his test tubes."
A sorrowful look came into Baron's eyes, but he remained standing still at Henry's side.
"Is that what Baron thinks or what you think?" Devona asked gently, but Henry ignored her.
"When we met I told you that Shelley's novel got some of our story right, though many of the specific details are different. Suffice it to say that I'd attempted to create a perfect man, only to realize I'd fallen far short of that too-lofty goal and instead created a monster. I attempted to rectify that mistake and destroy the beast I'd made, and he in turn tried to destroy me. In the end I died and my monster lived and I went into the darkness with the consolation of knowing I was at least free of the grotesque abomination I'd brought into the world. But do you know what he did? He refused to let me stay dead! He claimed he did it out of love, because he didn't want to lose the only family he had in the world. But I knew the truth. He did it out of spite – for vengeance's sake! He brought my body to my lab and using my notes and equipment, he went to work. The result? He succeeded in returning me to life, but trapped inside this twisted joke of a body. He apologized for the crudity of his work, saying said it was because this was his first attempt at the reanimatory arts. He promised to continue, experimenting and learning, until he'd obtained the knowledge and skill to fully restore me. What a laugh! As if he ever had any intention of doing so!"
"Judging by how he looks, I'd say he succeeded in mastering his craft," I said. "Has he never offered to operate on you again?"
"Numerous times," Henry said. "But do you think I'd ever allow him to come near me with surgical tools again after what he did to me?"
I thought to Devona, Sounds to me like what Henry needs isn't a medical doctor as much as a really good psychiatrist.
No kidding, she replied.
He's already more unstable than a house of cards in a hurricane. Let's see if we can't push him the rest of the way over the edge, maybe get him to make a mistake.
Maybe get him to kill us, you mean, Devona thought.
What's life without a little risk? I countered.
Easy for you to say – you're already dead!
I had to keep from smiling at that. Aloud, I said, "It must've eaten away at you, coming to Nekropolis and working alongside Baron all these years, watching him improve himself physically while he became increasingly successful."
Henry nodded emphatically. "So successful that people started calling him the Sixth Lord? Can you believe it? What hubris!"
"And all the different refinements and applications he came up with were based on your original work," Devona added.
"That's right! And what's tattooed on everything that leaves the Foundry, on the laborers, voxes, Mind's Eye sets? Another Victor Baron Creation. As if I'd never existed!"
"Worst of all, Baron succeeded where you failed," I said. "Thanks to his efforts to continually improve himself over the years, he did become the perfect man. Or at least as close to perfect as possible."
Henry had become more and more agitated as we'd talked and now his face was red with fury and spittle flew from his mouth as he spoke.
Henry whirled on me. "Ye s, damn you, yes! " He practically screamed these words and beneath his voice Osseal's tone became a highpitched shrill.
Now! I thought to Devona.
With Henry's full attention focused on me, Devona seized the opportunity to make a lunge for Osseal. As strong as she was, if she could grab hold of the instrument and rip it free from Henry's chest -
SEVENTEEN
– but before she could reach the magical artifact, Victor Baron, who'd stood motionless while his creator ranted, now burst into sudden motion.