This Broken Wondrous World (15 page)

“Recruiting us for what?” said Claire.

“Moreau must tell you that himself,” said Robert.

“And I suppose you're going to take us to see him on the secret, invisible Noble's Isle?” asked Mozart.

“It's not a secret any longer,” said Robert. “Stephen and I found it. We discovered a way to reverse the invisibility effect that cloaked the island. We set Moreau free.”

“Okay, Wolfie, start talking,” said Claire.

“I'll tell you what I know,” said Mozart. “Keep in mind, this all went down in 1890 or so. Werewolves age slower than humans, but not
that
slow. So everything I have is secondhand. The way Laurellen tells it, Moreau was this human who lived out on a tiny island in the Pacific where he conducted all kinds of biology experiments. He would cut up animals, still alive, combine them with other animals or sometimes even humans, and sew them back together in new and grotesque ways.”

“He was making his own monsters?” I asked.

“Apparently. Of course, the whole thing blew up in his face. The creatures went feral, killed his assistant and nearly killed him. But shortly after that, he met Ruthven and Kemp. I think they had some idea that he could be a bridge between monsters and humans. They worked together for a while, but then I guess they had some kind of big disagreement. Laurellen was a little vague on the details, but whatever Moreau did, it nearly blew our whole secret. Ruthven and Kemp were able to put a stop to it. But they had to decide what to do about Moreau.”

“They should have killed him,” said La Perricholi.

“I'm surprised they didn't,” said Mozart. “Ruthven's never
been shy about that. Whatever Moreau did, it must not have been all that bad or else there were mitigating circumstances. In any case, instead of killing him, they stranded him on his island and cloaked the whole thing in invisibility.”

“Like The Commune,” I said.

“They didn't want some human to accidentally come across the island and give Moreau a lift back to civilization.”

“Let me get this right,” said Claire. “So this island has been sitting out in the middle of the Pacific Ocean for over a hundred years and nobody knew about it?”

“It's a small island. Probably less than twenty miles long. But here's the question.” He turned back to Robert. “Even if you found it, and if you somehow reversed the invisibility—something I don't think even Kemp knows how to do—even then, how could Moreau possibly be alive? He must have been in his fifties when they imprisoned him. That would make him about a hundred and seventy-five years old now. He may have been brilliant, but in the end, he was only human.”

“Moreau will have to be the one to explain that as well,” said Robert.

“You really think we will follow you blindly across the sea to an unknown island that might contain a hostile presence?” said La Perricholi.

“I swear to you he's not your enemy!” said Robert. “He's asking for your help.”

“Help with
what
?” asked Mozart. “In light of everything else, it's a little hard to trust you when you won't even tell us what this is all about.”

“I couldn't tell you even if I wanted to. Please, you must believe me. Only Moreau himself can explain it all to you.”

“Then he should have come himself,” said La Perricholi.

“His work is at a crucial stage right now. He could not leave it, even for a day. But he needs your help now so he asked me to beg you to come to him. He didn't know Stephen would warp the request into an excuse for violence.”

Mozart looked at La Perricholi. “Noble's Isle is practically on your doorstep. The Perricholi order have any intel about Moreau?”

She shook her head. “I've never heard of the place. But Maria might know something.”

“Okay, you talk to her. I'm going to contact Ruthven.” He turned back to Robert. “Then we'll decide if we're going to help out this Dr. Moreau of yours.”

MOZART INSISTED ON
talking to Ruthven alone, which I thought was a little weird. While he went off to do that, the rest of us followed La Perricholi down a long hallway to another wing of the house.

“Henri,” said La Perricholi as we crossed an intersecting hallway. “Can you go tell Maria what we've learned and ask her to meet us in the gym?”

Henri's eyes lit up, like he was thrilled to be getting an assignment from her. “Of course, La Perricholi.”

She pointed down the side passageway. “Follow this to a staircase. Go up a flight and out the double doors. She should be out in the garden.”

He nodded and practically ran down the hallway.

Once he was out of sight, she turned to me and Claire. “Good, that will keep him out from underfoot for a little while. Now, it's time the two of you had some proper combat training.” Then she
turned abruptly and continued down the hallway.

“Uh, why is that?” I asked as Claire and I followed behind her.

“What Stephen said is true. You have power, but no training. You beat him with luck and rage. You can't count on either of those to last. If we decide to go to this island, we should be ready for anything. This whole thing could be an elaborate trap.”

I DECIDED THAT
I'd been wrong about this house being as big as Villa Diodati. Now I was pretty sure it was even bigger. Because the Frankensteins didn't have their own private gym. It was about the size of a basketball court. There was a large mat area in the center. Along the sides were weights, a treadmill, and other machines that looked more like torture devices than fitness equipment.

“Here.” La Perricholi tossed us each a small, tied bundle of clothes. “These should fit you. Or close enough.”

I opened mine up. Inside was a T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. “Why do you happen to have workout clothes in both our sizes?”

“Maria used to teach self-defense classes,” said La Perricholi. “She insisted that her students learn their form in nonrestrictive clothes, but some of her students couldn't afford to buy new clothes. So she required all students to wear this uniform that she provided. There are still plenty in the back. Now suit up. Let's see what you've got.”

Claire and I spent the next hour getting our asses kicked by La Perricholi. I tried to point out that I was actually still pretty sore and recovering from injuries, but that only seemed to make her want to hurt me more.

Claire gradually started to pick up on some of it. Each failure seemed to sharpen her focus, make her more determined. By the end of her time at the mat she was blocking a lot of La Perricholi's attacks and even connecting a few of her own.

But after I got knocked down for about the hundredth time, it was clear I wasn't getting any of it.

“Okay, I'm done.” My ribs ached as I picked myself up off the floor once again. “You proved your point. You're awesome, I suck.”

“What kind of attitude is that?” demanded La Perricholi. Her uniform T-shirt was drenched in sweat and her tan face was flushed red. “Come again.”

“No seriously,” I said. “Claire is the jock, I'm the nerd. This really isn't my thing.”

“So you're just giving up? Are you so lazy?”

“I'm just practical. I'm not athletic or even remotely coordinated. I'm never going to get this stuff. It's a waste of both our time.”

She glared at me for a moment, then turned to Claire. “Can you talk some sense into him?”

“Hardly ever.”

La Perricholi muttered something under her breath in Spanish that I'm pretty sure had the word
chucha
in it. Then she turned back to Claire.

“Fine, let's go again.”

As La Perricholi and Claire started beating on each other some more, I noticed Henri and Maria standing in the doorway. Henri still watched La Perricholi like a lost puppy. I had a feeling he was out of luck, because she really hadn't shown much interest in him. Then again, I wondered if she had interest in anything other than beating the crap out of people.

“Hey,” I said as I walked over to them. “I guess I'm not cut out for crime fighting or whatever.”

“La Perricholi is an excellent warrior,” said Maria, “but she still has much to learn about sharing her skill with others.”

“She said you used to hold classes here?” I asked.

Maria nodded. “It was at a time when the Shining Path, a group of militant Communists, held this country in a grip of fear. The terror they caused was matched only by the terror caused by the government itself. When the two clashed, the people were often caught in the middle. I could not turn them all into warriors, but I sought to give them at least enough knowledge to keep them alive.”

“I had a feeling I'd find everybody here,” came Mozart's voice from the hallway. He stepped into the room and watched the fight lesson for a moment. “Looks promising.”

“Yes,” said Maria. Then for some reason she looked over at me. Maybe I was supposed to feel guilty for quitting.

“Can you ask the ladies to take a breather?” asked Mozart.

Maria nodded. Then she clapped her hands twice. “Enough.” She said it calmly, but with a forcefulness that made the women stop immediately.

“Did you talk to Ruthven?” Claire asked as she and La Perricholi came over to join us.

Mozart shook his head. “I couldn't get anyone to pick up at The Show.”

“Not even the box office?” I asked.

“No. I wonder if they're having problems with the phone lines again. Damn trowe are always fiddling with that stuff.”

“Vi should be able to figure out if it's a network issue,” I said.

“Oh,” Henri handed Vi's phone to me. “I meant to ask you to take a look at her. Something's not working right and I don't
think it's a hardware problem. She hasn't been responding to me at all.”

“Vi?” I said, unlocking the phone.

A text message popped up:

TALK LATER. IN PRIVATE.

“Um, yeah, sure . . .” I wondered if this had something to do with Henri and his crush on La Perricholi. I slipped her into my pocket, then looked back at Henri, forcing a smile. “I'll . . . take a look a bit later.”

“Anyway,” said Mozart, “I left a cryptic message, but I don't know if we can sit and wait for Ruthven to get back to us on this one. Maria, do you know anything more about Moreau?”

“Most of our history is passed down orally,” said Maria. “So I have no precise records of that time. However, I did remember my predecessor telling me about a time when a Perricholi joined forces with Ruthven, Kemp, and Boy's father to stop Moreau from revealing the existence of monsters to the world.”

“What worries me is that he's planning on trying that again,” said Mozart. “Whether or not Moreau actually needs our help, if he's putting the secrecy of monsters at risk again, we need to handle this quickly and quietly.”

“What if Robert is lying?” asked La Perricholi. “You said yourself it seems very unlikely Moreau is still alive. What if there is no Moreau and Robert has laid a trap for us on the island?”

“It's a risk,” agreed Mozart.

“We could question him more . . . forcefully,” La Perricholi said.

“You didn't just suggest we torture Sophie's injured brother, did you?” demanded Claire.

“Do you think Stephen would even hesitate, if places were reversed?” asked La Perricholi.

“Who cares?” I said. “I'm not like Stephen. I don't ever want to be like Stephen.”

“Please, Perricholi,” said Maria. “It would sadden me if that was the path you chose to take.”

“Fine,” said La Perricholi. “Then the only option is to let Robert lead us to this island. If it is a trap, then we will deal with it.”

“All right then,” said Mozart. “We leave first thing in the morning. Except Henri. He's staying behind with Maria.”

“What?” said Henri.

“Sorry, kid,” said Mozart. “I know you mean well, but you're a liability. If things go bad, I don't want any of us to have to worry about saving your ass. Again.”