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I took a match from the stove in the kitchen, then paused. “We should check the servants’ quarters. I would hate to murder someone by accident.”

“We only plan to do that on purpose,” Mary added helpfully. “But if anyone were here, I think they would have responded to all the noise.”

“The servants left when Victor returned,” Adam said. “I have been watching.”

“Good.”

“Should we place the body on top?”

I looked at the ruined form of Judge Frankenstein. He had claimed me and held me captive, seeking to possess me for my money. He was not as bad as his son. But he was certainly part of the reason Victor was who he was.

“This is not for him. This is for me.” I threw the match onto the pyre. We stayed until the fire drove us from the house. Then we stood, side by side, and watched as Frankenstein Manor was consumed.

“What do we do now?” Mary asked.

“Victor said he would chase me to the ends of the earth. I think I should make it a challenge for him.”

Mary laughed. “I would love to make him suffer.”

“You cannot mean to come with me! My road will be long and lonely and dangerous.”

She stared ahead at the flames. “My uncle is dead. I loved the bookshop because I loved him. If I returned to it, I would spend the next years fighting to keep it and eventually losing it because I am a single woman and such is the nature of the law. Besides, Victor knows I know the truth about him. I cannot imagine he will forgive or forget my role.”

“I think,” Adam said, his deep voice like rocks scraping together, “I can give him a trail to follow. I am memorable.”

What a strange company we were! But I was gladder than I could say that I would not do this alone. “Trying to follow us will keep him moving, prevent him from being able to set up another laboratory. We can save others in that way. But we need to lure him as far away from people as we can. In case things do not go as planned.” After all, the three of us had failed once at killing him. “He hates the cold. So I say we move north as quickly as possible.”

“Oh, we three fugitives will make this hell for dear Victor.” Mary rubbed her hands together in delight.

I laughed, and Mary joined in, the noise brighter than the fire raging in front of us. Something in Adam seemed to release. He stood straighter, no longer turning his face from us. His black lips parted in a smile, and at last I saw the soul he carried. Victor had not made that. It was entirely Adam’s.

We settled into silence, listening to the rain sizzle as it hit the flames, the heat so intense that our clothes dried as fast as they got wet.

This house had been a refuge, and it had been a prison. But even watching it burn, I was not free. Victor was out there. He would follow me. I knew his singular intensity and devotion to a goal better than anyone. He would find me.

I would let him.

I ALWAYS KNEW I would see the world because of Victor.

I had never imagined it would be because I was running away from him.

We stood on a plain outside Saint Petersburg. It had been a long, frigid journey. And we had yet more long and even colder journeys ahead of us. But as we looked on the onion domes of that glittering, frosted city, I finally felt something like peace.

“It is beautiful,” I said.

“It is freezing,” Mary said.

“It is both,” Adam said.

I laughed, linking arms with Mary. And then, ever tentative, I reached out and linked my other arm through Adam’s. He flinched at the touch—he always did—but then he softened. I did not look up to see whether he was smiling. I was trying to do things simply because I wanted to, or because they felt right, rather than because I was trying to elicit a certain reaction for my own purposes.

“You two should go into the city,” Adam said. “Spend a few nights warm and cozy. I will wander the countryside and let people catch glimpses of me.”

“What if someone tries to harm you?” I feared this constantly, that his monstrous visage would inspire violence. “That is not fair to you. We should all be warm or none of us.”

He patted my hand. His dwarfed mine, at more than twice the size, but he was remarkably gentle. “I am faster and stronger than anyone who may wish me harm. I do not mind doing this task. The cold does not bother me. And I like the wide-open spaces. It is still exhilarating to run as fast as I can.” He paused, then smiled shyly. It was such a tentative smile, like a new bud of a flower. So fragile and unformed. “And I like being reunited with you after.”

I met his smile with my own, which helped his budding flower grow. “I like that, too. But I do not speak Russian. So we will be at a loss in the city and—”