Agatha H and the Voice of the Castle

CHAPTER 6

For the jaded epicure, Romania’s Mechanicsburg is a delightful respite in an area otherwise awash in excess amounts of paprika-saturated pork products, as it is the home of the ever-delightful Mechanicsburg Giant Snail (Helix Quimperiana Mechanicsburg Gigantus).

Local legend claims that cultivation of these gastropods began almost two centuries ago during the Storm King’s prolonged siege of the town. Since then, they have been embraced as a delectable homegrown resource. Within the last twenty years, it has, through clever marketing, been introduced to the outside world and the cuisine of Europa has benefited.

Most of my readers will be familiar with the familiar Green Tri-horns, the spicy Red Pepper Snails, the buttery Golden Spiral, as well as the now traditional Prester John Day’s Eve favorite, the gloriously marbled Double-Shelled Feast.

But even the true gastronome might not be aware that these are but the snails that Mechanicsburg chooses to export. They may well be delicious, but, like the white wines of the Rhine Valley, the best are kept for the educated palates of the folk back home and never go farther than a hundred kilometers from their place of origin.

Thus, even the most ardent mollusk aficionado should prepare to be astonished at the scope and variety of snails available for consumption at the meanest Mechanicsburg inn or Escar-To-Go^® peddler’s cart.

We suggest that you start with some of the favorite local varietals, such as the Carpathian Mauve, the Cerulean Giant, the Orange Snap-Shell, the Variegated Spine-Tail, or (from February to April) the surprisingly minty Phosphorescent Devil.”

—Go To Your Food: Local Delicacies and Culinary Secrets for the Sophisticated Traveler by the Lady Flora Alomari/ Constantinople Press

Agatha dusted her hands together. “So, let’s get to this library, shall we?” She waved her hand towards the glittering stone confection that hung over the courtyard. “Back over the bridge?”

The Castle chuckled and the bridge collapsed back into individual bricks and tumbled lifelessly to the ground. “Oh, my, no.” The wall behind them crumbled to the ground, revealing a stairway that descended into the earth. “This way, Mistress.”

Guided by the ever-present red lights, Agatha and Moloch picked their way down the winding stairwell.

“My Lady?” the Castle asked after a while. “Do you have a… boyfriend?”

Agatha almost missed a step and it was only by grabbing the banister that she refrained from pitching forward into the darkness at the center of the stairwell. “A what?”

“A boyfriend,” the Castle repeated helpfully. “A sweetheart.”

Agatha made a strangled sound.

The Castle doggedly continued. “A swain. A beau. A lover. An intended consort. A fiancé. A stud.”

Agatha realized with horror that, unchecked, the Castle might very well continue listing possibilities, like an increasingly salacious thesaurus. “No!” she shouted.

“What?” Moloch was clearly shocked. “Are you serious? What happened to that thing with Gilgamesh Wulfenbach? You two have a fight or something?”

Agatha stared at him.

“O-HO!” the Castle boomed with obvious pleasure. “The young man who single-handedly stopped the invaders. A very good choice.”

“We do not have a…a thing!” Agatha retorted hotly.

“Really?” The Castle sounded skeptical. “In my opinion he was certainly trying to impress someone. Yessss…he’ll do nicely.”

“Do for what?” Agatha demanded. “And don’t you dare tell me. He sent a thug to try to kill me!” She paused. “Probably. Maybe.”

Moloch whistled. “Wow, you two did have a fight. Back on Castle Wulfenbach, he wouldn’t shut up about you.”

“Oh reeeeally?!” The Castle was intrigued.

Agatha whirled and shook a finger at Moloch and then up at the ceiling. “Silence! Not another word!” They walked on for a while and then, despising herself, she asked quietly: “So…what did he say?”

Moloch was spared by the Castle’s deep chuckle filling the stairwell. “Oh, this all takes me back. Four centuries ago, the Skull-Queen of Skral sent two hundred warrior homunculi to kill Dagon Heterodyne—just to pique his interest. I expect standards have slipped a bit since then.”

Agatha looked puzzled. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Why, you remind me of her. She was your ancestress, you know. So it obviously worked out rather well.” The Castle’s voice was nostalgic. “Lovely woman. Master Dagon and she were so happy together.”

“Wait a minute,” Moloch said. “My grand-nana used to scare us kids with stories about the Skull Queen of Skral if we got out of line. She’s a…she was a real person? That whole ‘souring of the mountains’ thing…that really happened?”

The Castle sighed. “Very happy indeed.”

Agatha looked tired. “Why am I not surprised?”

Moloch stopped briefly, and watched as Agatha moved ahead. He clutched his load a bit tighter. “Is she…” he whispered, “a lot like her?”

“Ah, it’s too soon to tell,” the Castle replied conspiratorially. “But I do have cause for hope.” It continued, “So, this Gilgamesh. He is Klaus’s sole heir?”

Moloch shrugged. “That’s what I’ve heard, but what do I know?”

“You would be astonished,” the Castle admonished, “with what people ‘like you’ know. I know that I no longer am. The Wulfenbachs never were known for producing large families. A pity.”

Agatha reached the bottom of the stair and spun around, her face almost glowing in the dim light. “I cannot believe this! I hardly know him!”

Moloch realized that she wasn’t arguing with him, and wisely kept silent.

“What’s to know?” the Castle asked. “His family is powerful. His Spark burns bright. He’s already taken with you…”

“But—”

“And you cannot deny that he has a magnificent death ray.”

Moloch had thought that Agatha couldn’t possibly be any more embarrassed. He was wrong.

“That’s…” She shivered and her voice came out in a conflicted little gasp. “That’s hardly a basis for a stable, long-term relationship.”

The Castle continued. “Heh heh heh. All of the Wulfenbachs have been known for their oversized machinery, you know.”

Agatha had the feeling that the conversation was sliding out of control. “I’m sure I hadn’t noticed.”

“I mean, look at that Castle Wulfenbach. What exactly are we trying to say here?”

Moloch looked confused. “Well, it’s obviously—”

“Is there a point to all of this?” Agatha shrieked.

The Castle paused. “Why, yes. A young gentleman and his attendant have just slipped in through the Phosphorus Gate. I was wondering if he was yours?”

Agatha’s heart gave a thump. “Is it Gilgamesh?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him. He’s not throwing lightning around, but that’s not—”

Moloch cleared his throat. “Tall. Fit. Aristocratic. Weird hair.”

“Nice hair,” Agatha snapped.

“It’s hard to say,” the castle confessed. “They are wearing stealth cloaks, and they are proceeding with extreme caution, which is why they are still alive. Well…barely alive.”

Agatha felt her chest grow tight. “What did you do?”

“I? Nothing. They are in a dead zone. All I can do is observe. But there are independent guardian systems in the area.”

Agatha looked wary. “Independent guardian systems? What, like those flying things?”

“Similar,” the Castle confessed. “But I no longer control them.”

Suddenly Moloch froze and dropped his bundle. “Wait! Are you talking about the Steam Cats?”

“Technically, they’re called ‘fun-sized mobile agony and death dispensers.’”

“Geargrit, no!” Moloch moaned. “Those things are almost impossible to kill!” He slid down the wall until he collapsed onto the floor. “We’re finally in an area where nothing is trying to kill us and now she’s going to drag me along while she commits suicide trying to rescue her crazy boyfriend from a bunch of unholy killing machines!”

Agatha sighed in exasperation. “He’s not actually—”

“And if I don’t go along,” Moloch yelled, “you’ll amuse yourself by squashing me like a bug! I’m doomed either way!”

“You have a remarkably astute grasp of the situation,” the Castle said with a grudging respect.

“I’ve been around way too many Sparks,” Moloch sobbed.

“And yet, even after dealing with them all, you are still alive,” the Castle pointed out.

Moloch raised his head in surprise. “I…well, I…I guess I am.”

“Amateurs!” the Castle sneered.

Moloch looked beseechingly at Agatha. “Come on—can’t you just find a new boyfriend?”

But Agatha was already running. “Hurry!”

Almost five minutes later, they topped yet another stairwell. As they ran, Agatha’s mind raced.

“So how do I beat these things?” she asked.

Moloch groaned. “You can’t! All you can do is get to a place where they can’t reach you. They’re really strong, really fast, and really well-built.”

Agatha considered this. “Are they really smart?”

The Castle answered. “Without me controlling them? Not very.”

Agatha grinned. “Okay, I can work with that.” She looked at the closed doors. “You could take them out, right?”

The Castle paused. “Yesssss…”

Moloch perked up. “Hey! I get it! Lure them out here and the Castle can smash them for us!”

“Destroy my own security systems?” The Castle sounded shocked.

Agatha cleared her throat.

“Oh, very well, but I’ll want them repaired later.”

“Holy smokes,” Moloch marveled. “That is a good plan.”

Agatha smiled as she slowly opened one of the doors. “Isn’t it, though?” Beyond was a large open room, some sort of feast hall. In the dim light, they could see that there was a long open fireplace along one wall—and the rest were hung with musty tapestries. It was impossible to see what was actually depicted upon them, but from what Agatha could see, the artist had liked using a lot of red. Above was an impressive set of exposed ceiling beams. A row of tall windows, the glass long smashed out, allowed a breeze to blow through the room. The furniture had fallen into ruin due to rain rot and insects.

Agatha stepped through the door. Nothing moved. Moloch crept in behind her. She pointed to a set of doors located in a far corner. They moved quietly towards them. “Now we just have to find them,” she said in a low voice. “Castle? How close to those things are we?”

A huge golden claw erupted from the shadows and slammed the door through which they had entered. A deep mechanical growl rose behind them.

Moloch closed his eyes. “Pretty close,” he whispered. “Don’t move!”

Agatha’s eyes ached from strain as she tried to look behind her—but she froze in place. “Are you kidding me?”

A metallic sound, like a mechanism slowly walking, came from behind them. “They react to movement,” Moloch said urgently. “So we want to get out of its line of sight, and then run like mad for someplace it can’t get to.”

Another step. Very close now. Agatha could hear poorly maintained gears grinding as it took yet another step towards them. Agatha frantically swept her eyes across the room.

“I don’t think that’s really an option here. I don’t see anywhere we can hide.”

A gigantic metal paw crashed to the ground between them. It was lovingly engraved with swirls and arabesques and had once been polished to a high gleam, but now it was encrusted with oil, dust, and what was very probably old blood.

Agatha felt her heart pounding so hard that she was sure her skin must be vibrating…But nothing more happened.

We can’t keep this up forever, Agatha thought. We’ll get tired or get a cramp or an itch—just like the one that has magically bloomed on my knee. Great. She realized that her breathing had sped up. She tried to remember the breathing exercises that Zeetha had taught her but they shot out of her head when a metal muzzle—festooned with cruel looking spines—eased into her peripheral vision. She saw Moloch close his eyes and heard a faint whimper. The head began to swing her way—when a boot sailed out of the darkness, bounced off the top of the automaton’s head, and flew into a corner.

With a sound like a locomotive, the mechanical creature dived after it. As it passed between Agatha and Moloch, a woman’s voice from the blackness above called out: “Sit down! Cover your mouth with your hands, and don’t move!”

They did so, and could see the “steam cat” now. In Agatha’s opinion, it did look like an enormous cat, but easily the size of one of the draft horses that had pulled wagons in the circus. Armored and covered in spines, hooks, and sharp edges, it had a large mouthful of jagged metal teeth which snapped open and shut in a idle mechanical reflex as it quested about the room.

Finding nothing, it swung about, red-lit eyes gleaming, and after a moment slowly padded back towards them.

“You can talk,” the mysterious voice from above informed them. “Just don’t let it see your mouth moving.” The steam cat didn’t react to this voice, just continued to slowly advance. It came up to Moloch and the red eyes swept over him once…twice… and then with a clank, the thing turned away and moved off back towards the door they had come in by.

Agatha swallowed the lump in her throat. “It—” she realized that she would have to speak loudly from behind her hands. “It can’t hear us?”

No reaction from the device, which had begun a slow circuit of the room.

“Apparently,” said the helpful voice, “it can’t even see us unless we’re actually moving. What? Like a what?”

Agatha heard murmuring and realized that there was at least another person above them. They must be up on the rafters, she realized.

“Oh, thank you, yes, like a frog.” The voice was annoyed now. “Thank you for that piece of incredibly useless information. Now shut up and if you open your mouth again I will gut you like a trout!”

From behind her cupped hands, Agatha spoke up. “It’s not supposed to work like this! It’s another rogue system. It doesn’t work properly if it isn’t linked with the Castle.”

The voice from above sighed in obvious exasperation. “You Sparks can’t keep from running your mouths even when you have nothing useful to say. It doesn’t have to be working right. All it has to do is stay here not seeing us—yes, okay, like a giant metal frog with claws—until we fall over from thirst and exhaustion!”

Agatha waited until the voice wound down. “I have a way to stop it,” she said.

A brief silence. “You do?”

“Yes. I need to lure it through the door we just came through.” The giant metal creature padded over to them and sank to its haunches, its glowing eyes fixed upon the door in question. Agatha took a deep breath. “But we need it…distracted.”

The voice considered this. “Well…that should—what?” More low murmuring came from above. “I swear to the Mother of Knives, if this is more idiocy—all right! All right!” Another sigh. “You—what did you do to Vrin?”

Agatha was so surprised that she started slightly. Instantly, the automaton’s attention snapped to her. Agatha held her breath while her mind raced.

“Vrin? I don’t—”

The voice from above prodded her. “Lady Vrin. In Sturmhalten. What did you do to her?”

“Who are you?” Agatha felt a flush of sweat. The voice didn’t sound like one of the strange warrior women she had fled from in Sturmhalten, but how many others even knew of Lady Vrin’s existence?

“Please. This is very important.” Despite this statement, it was obvious that the speaker thought it a waste of time.

Agatha didn’t want to make an enemy of the owner of the voice, but…

“You won’t be mad?”

“I’m already mad!” the voice growled, “But not about whatever stupid thing this is about. Please.”

“Well, I kind of hit her with a broom.”

Moloch interrupted. “A broom?”

“I…kind of hit her with a broom a lot.”

A different voice sounded above. “Thank God—it is you. Agatha…”

Agatha realized that she recognized the second voice. “Tarvek?”

“Okay, get ready to run!”

With a crash, Tarvek Sturmvoraus leaped from the shadows above and landed square on the back of the giant machine. He appeared to be wearing hastily wrapped sheets, and little else. “Run!” he yelled. Above them, the other voice shrieked in furious protest.

The automaton leapt into the air and gave a shrill mechanical roar. It then began a twisting set of gyrations, trying to dislodge its rider.

As Agatha and Moloch leapt to their feet, a girl dressed in deep shades of black and purple dropped to the floor beside them. She was staring at Tarvek with rage boiling off her. “What are you doing, you idiot?”

Tarvek, still hanging on to the monster, ignored her and called to Agatha, “The door! GO!”

The girl looked like she was about to leap straight into the fight. Both Agatha and Moloch grabbed her and began to drag her along with them towards the doors. “No!” she shrieked. “After all that trouble getting your useless butt out of that hospital, you are not going to commit suicide! Grandma will have me flayed!”

The automaton stopped its attempts to throw Tarvek off and lunged after the fleeing trio with a roar. Quickly, Tarvek threw his sheet over its eyes, and it stopped dead for a moment, as if puzzled. Then it shook itself like a dog and roared again, clawing at the fabric that hid its face.

Agatha shouted: “Everybody scatter!” If it doesn’t follow you, get the door open!”

The three ran in different directions as the device cleared the sheet from its eyes.

“Don’t follow me. Don’t follow me…” Moloch’s frantic voice could be heard as he pelted his way across the room. With a howl, the creature bounded off after him. “I knew it!”

Agatha forced herself to ignore Moloch’s scream of rage and ran for the door. “I made it!” she called out exultantly, and she gave the great door a tug. Nothing. “And it’s locked!”

“Oh, that’s just perfect!” Agatha realized the girl in purple was at her side. She pushed Agatha away. Dipping a hand into one of the pouches at her waist, she extracted a slim, hooked rod. “Move! Highly trained Smoke Knight comin’ through!”

The girl slid the rod into the keyhole and twirled it about. A look of surprise flitted across her face. “This isn’t locked.” Another twirl in the opposite direction. “This is jammed.”

Agatha closed her eyes. “Yes, that happens a lot around here, apparently.”

“Yeah, but I can’t do anything about that. I’m not a weight lifter. How am I supposed to deal with this?”

Agatha glanced behind, and saw the creature, with Tarvek still astride it, galloping towards them. “Really quickly!”

“Violetta,” Tarvek shouted. “Take her up!”

“You think? Idiot.” In a single movement, the girl produced a chubby little air-pistol, pointed it straight up, and fired, grabbing Agatha around the waist.

Agatha felt a jerk as she was hauled upwards, the reel on the device screaming in protest. Centimeters below her feet, the automaton’s jaws closed on empty air with a ringing snap.

A shove and a quick grab for support, and Agatha found herself hauled atop a thick wooden ceiling beam.

The girl examined the smoking device, then, with a curse, she tossed it towards the ground. The automaton leapt again, and snapped the little device out of the air, crushing it in shining metal jaws. Tarvek was still hanging on as the automaton dashed about, but his sheets were becoming more tattered and disheveled by the minute. He really wasn’t wearing anything else underneath. Agatha tried hard not to notice. Instead, she concentrated on the question of what he was doing here, in Castle Heterodyne, and what she should do about it.

On the one hand, his family was mixed up with a shadowy plot to overthrow the Empire, and they had been working with Lucrezia—the Other—to do it. The Other’s creatures and devices had been all over their castle. Tarvek himself had been working with Lucrezia and her servants—and had actively thwarted Agatha’s efforts to warn the Baron about the Other’s return.

On the other hand, Tarvek had rebelled—had tried to get Agatha away from Sturmhalten Castle before the Other’s servants could catch her. When Agatha had been caught anyway, and it looked as if Lucrezia’s presence in her mind would extinguish her altogether, he had helped her fight back. She was still alive because of him.

Plus—and there was no denying it—she had found him very attractive. Different than Gil, there was no question of that, but still…

It was all very frustrating, she thought. Definitely the sort of thing a girl needs to sort out…over time…with the aid of knowledgeable friends, a good wine, and several kilograms of good chocolate. None of which were now present.

“Okay,” Violetta muttered. “So here I am, back where we started.” She gave Agatha a sour look. “Without, I might add, the fool I’m supposed to keep alive. Great plan, my Lady.”

Agatha tore her gaze from Tarvek. “Wait! Where’s von Zinzer?”

“Over here.” They looked up in surprise, to see Moloch sitting astride another beam. He waved at them amiably, and the tone of his voice conveyed a pleased surprise. “Thanks for asking.”

Violetta stared at him in astonishment. Then glanced back down at the floor, which was easily five meters below. “You’ve trained in the way of the Smoke?”

Moloch shrugged and waved a hand. “Nah. My mother always said that stuff would kill you.”

Agatha ignored them and looked around. Below them, the creature had changed tactics. It was by turns freezing in place and then suddenly shaking itself violently. Tarvek was managing to hold on, but Agatha knew it was only a matter of time. She had to try something.

The beam she was on was filthy. Encrusted with centuries worth of dust, grime, and cooking smoke. Luckily, it was also enormous, hewn centuries ago from some primeval oak tree, and was easily a meter wide. Agatha gingerly swung her legs up and eased herself onto her hands and knees. She eyed the doors she had spotted at the other end of the room and started forward.

“What are you doing?” Violetta asked from behind her.

“I’m wondering what’s through that other door.”

There was a soft whoosh through the air and the lightest of thumps, and Violetta was now standing before Agatha. “There’s three more of those monsters on the other side. That’s the way we came in,” Violetta said wearily.

“Ah.” Agatha thought about this. “Is there any other way out?”

Violetta shook her head. “No.”

Agatha glanced about. The upper reaches of the vast room were shrouded in darkness. “How can you be so sure? It’s pretty dark up here.”

Violetta reached up to her brow. A strap ran across her forehead, with a small device attached. She snapped it on and an intense red beam blinked into existence. “Only got my hunting light, don’t I?” She slowly began to pivot in place. “Let’s have a look around.”

The light drifted up, revealing a small square of darker black. “Air vent of some sort up there, but even if we could get you up to it, that hole is too small even for me.” The light moved to the left and Agatha gasped as hundreds of small bright dots gleamed in the darkness. “But I guess it’s big enough for those bloodbats.⁴⁹ The moon’s coming up, so I figure they’re almost ready to fly. We’d better get out of here soon.”

The light now skittered up along the beam they were on. “Oh, and it’s a good thing you didn’t crawl much further.” The light revealed a delicate lattice of threads. Dark shapes scurried away as they were illuminated. “If you had, you’d’ve got caught in that spiderroach web.⁵⁰ Once they know you’re helpless, they’ll pour out and strip the flesh from your bones.”

Agatha slowly backed up, but stopped when she heard a meaty “thunk” near her left foot. Looking behind her, she saw a small creature squirming furiously, pinned by a slim black blade.

“Look at that,” said Violetta with a touch of surprise. “Venomous Rafter Toad.⁵¹ I didn’t know they were active at this time of the year.”

Agatha tried to pull herself into the smallest amount of space possible.

Violetta sighed and sat down beside her, turning off her light. “See? Nothing up here that’s of any use to us at all.”

Agatha blinked and then smiled. “Actually, you’re quite wrong.” Violetta frowned.

On the ground below, or rather, on the back of the rampaging automaton, Tarvek was coming to terms with his imminent death.

He had heard the stories about the castle, of course, but had assumed they were exaggerated. This had proven to be hubris on his part and the reality would have been challenging enough, even had he been fully fit and dressed. As it was, he was injured, practically naked, and depressed because he was about to die. He had always planned to die while ranting atop a tower or something—he had a very nice outfit all designed for the occasion and everything—and now all that effort would be wasted. Plus, he was worried that his mind might not be as properly focused as it should be.

But it would all be irrelevant anyway, at least to those people who wouldn’t have to scrub his remains off of the floor, because now he was going rather numb and his hands were starting to slip and it was getting awfully cold and…

“Tarvek!” That was Agatha’s voice. That opened another steamer trunk full of regrets… “Tarvek! Get ready to let go!”

Let go? Was she insane?

A bright red dot of light blinked into existence on the floor in front off them. The steam cat tensed. The dot wavered and then skittered off across the floor. With a roar, the creature leapt after it.

Instead of letting go, Tarvek reflexively gripped harder and then realized his error as he saw the dot dancing merrily upon the jammed door.

He screamed as the steam cat plowed through the ancient wood like a battering ram and slammed into the opposite wall. It shook itself and spun about just as Agatha stumbled through the shattered door after it. “Castle! Can you hear me? Destroy it! Now!”

“Of course, my Lady.” The Castle’s voice was nearly drowned out by Tarvek screaming her name in panic and she quickly added:

“And don’t hurt the person on its back!”

“Of course not.” As the Castle spoke, parts of the floor rose up and crushed the clank with a squeal of metal and a shower of sparks. The crushed mechanism clattered over, sending Tarvek rolling to land Agatha’s feet.

“Amazing,” he breathed, staggering as he tried to stand. He felt a bit dazed. “And…and I’m completely unhurt!”

A thrown boot—the mate to the one on his left foot—smashed into his face. “Are you done?” Violetta shrieked. “Are you finished?” She strode over to Tarvek, who was dazedly trying to determine where the stars that drifted across his field of vision belonged on the Hertzsprung-Russell diagram. “No, wait, you can’t be! You’re still alive!”

Tarvek focused on her. “You know, I really hate you,” he muttered.

“You hate me? How dare you!” Violetta began kicking the prone man in the head. “Feel my hate! Feel it!” Tarvek rolled over and feebly waved his hands in a parody of self-defense. “You aren’t allowed to commit suicide,” Violetta continued. “Only I must kill you!”

Agatha watched this with strong mixed feelings.

Since she had first met him in Sturmhalten, Tarvek had both supported and betrayed her in such quick alternating succession that she was unable to decide what she really felt for him. At the moment, impatience was winning out.

“Stop it!” Agatha’s yell froze both combatants. “What is wrong with you two?”

Violetta grabbed Tarvek’s hair and yanked his head up. “I’m responsible for this slug’s continued existence.”

Tarvek painfully pulled himself free from her grip. “And this useless nitwit is my loyal servant!” So saying, he delivered a sock to her sternum, causing Violetta to gasp.

Moloch strolled out the door and cocked an eyebrow. “Are you sure the two of you aren’t married?”

Violetta looked like she was about to be violently sick. “Oh, eewww!”

Agatha turned to Tarvek, who was fastidiously fashioning an elegant toga. “This is loyal?”

Tarvek tucked in the final fold and bent to put on his boot. “It’s not like she has a lot of choice. She’s my cousin. Her branch of the family has served mine for generations. She’s been trained since birth.”

“And I hate it!” Violetta declared. “I’m awful at it! I’m so bad at it that I got posted way out here, where all I had to do was play secretary to the local Burgermeister! It was easy! He’s such a fool that I still can’t believe he’s running this dump!”

She turned back to Tarvek, who flinched. “And then this fool gets captured! ‘So what?’ says me. ‘Not my problem.’ Wrong! ’cause the moron they have positioned in the hospital gets herself killed while trying to off the Baron—and suddenly it’s my job to drag the Royal Pain here out of the fire!”

By now, Violetta was punctuating her words by thumping Tarvek on the head with one fist.

“Not! My! Fault!” he wailed.

She gave Tarvek’s head another smack. “Shut up!” She looked to Agatha with eyes full of weariness. “And then we’re being chased by Wulfenbach troops and our own people and everyone’s shooting to kill and there’s nowhere to go, thanks to those flaming gargoyles, so Bright Boy here, he says,” Violetta mimicked Tarvek’s voice with the skill of long practice, “‘We’ll head for the Castle! They won’t chase us in there!’”

“Wait.” Moloch looked confused. “He wanted to come in here to be safe?”

Violetta grabbed Moloch’s shirt and looked at him imploringly. “Yes! Now do you understand what I have to work with?”

“But why did you listen to him?”

“I panicked! I told you, I’m not very good at this!”

Moloch surprised her by gently patting her on the shoulder. “You’re not dead. In here, that counts for a lot.”

Agatha was eyeing Tarvek with an unnerving glare. “I want to know what all of these agents of yours were doing in my town.” A thought struck her. “Flaming gargoyles… That pink airship! That pink tart! They’re yours?”

Tarvek rolled his eyes. “The pink thing was not my idea.”

Agatha grabbed the front of Tarvek’s toga and leaned in. Her voice took on a dangerous harmonic. “This is all your fault?”

Agatha’s eyes were only inches from his, and it was obvious she was furious. Tarvek’s voice rose to match hers: “No! It’s yours!”

She shook him so hard his teeth rattled. “You’re trying to take over my town and it’s my fault?” Suddenly, a cold metal blade was gently touching her throat.

“Okay, you, back way off,” Violetta said from behind.

“My Lady?” The Castle waited for instructions.

“Alive and unharmed,” Agatha said to the air.

A set of iron rods slammed up from the floor and Violetta suddenly found herself in a very tight cage. It was difficult to breathe. “As you wish, Mistress,” the Castle said conversationally.

Agatha continued to glare into Tarvek’s eyes. “Now. You. Talk.”

Tarvek took a deep breath. “Okay. I’m sorry. It’s not exactly your fault, but it is happening because you showed up. Yes, there was a plot to install a false Heterodyne girl. My father and his people have been working on it for a long time.” He sighed. “They were nowhere near ready.” He looked thoughtful. “I guess between your performance over Sturmhalten and the Baron’s injuries, it must have seemed too good an opportunity to pass up.”

Agatha snorted. “Did they really think that the Baron’s son would do nothing?”

Now Tarvek was angry. “I didn’t say they weren’t idiots! I didn’t tell them to go ahead. We know nothing about this son of the Baron’s! I’ve never met him! No one has!” He paused. “Actually, from what you told us at dinner back in Sturmhalten, it sounds like you know more about him than anyone else in Europa.”

Agatha sighed. Her initial anger had mostly passed, but she was still far from pleased. “He’s a bossy, violent idiot who thinks he knows what’s best for everyone, even though he can’t even keep himself in one piece.” She gave Tarvek a pointed look. “You’ll like him.”

Gil was peering between two shutters onto the busy street below. The crowd was dispersing and he was relieved to see that his father’s troops were letting them go.

“Get away from that window, you fool!”

Gil closed the shutters and grinned. He had been astonished to see two of his dearest friends, Theopholous DuMedd and Sleipnir O’Hara, appear out of nowhere in the streets of Mechanicsburg.

Theo and Sleipnir were two of the students that Gilgamesh had grown up with aboard Castle Wulfenbach,⁵² and they had fled, along with several other of Gil’s acquaintances, during the chaos that had attended Agatha’s own escape.

They had used an invisibility device he had given them back on Castle Wulfenbach to whisk him out from under Captain Vole’s nose, leaving his new group of friends behind. Ha. Friends…he had his doubts about that cat…

“Well, excuse me for being concerned. There are people I know down there.”

Theo paused, a bottle tipped upwards. He caught himself just before the drink he was pouring sloshed over the edge of his glass. “Anyone you want us to go get?”

Sleipnir looked up from the device she was tinkering with. “It wouldn’t be any trouble. We can get at least another hour’s use out of your little invisibility lamp dingus here.”

“It’s not a lamp.” Gil’s reply was almost automatic by now. Why did everyone think it was a lamp?⁵³ “No. Leave them be,” he answered. “They’d only insist on coming along, and I don’t want to take anyone into the Castle who doesn’t deserve it.”

Sleipnir tossed a screwdriver at him without rancor. “Nice.”

Gil snatched it out of the air and threw it back. “I am not taking you in with me.”

Sleipnir caught it and slid it back into the loop on her belt. “Of course you are.” Gil opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off. “And the last time you won an argument with me was…?”

Gil frowned, and changed the subject. “What are the two of you even doing here? Theo, you said you were going to search for your father’s lost laboratory.”

Theo looked uncomfortable and sipped at his drink. “Well…I still am. I mean, I will. We have some map fragments and I’m pretty close to cracking the cipher he used in his journal.”

Sleipnir spoke up, “And I think I’ve got a pretty good idea of where the Eye of the Snake Eater is hidden.”⁵⁴

“But,” Theo admitted, “I did promise Agatha that I’d catch up with her here.”

Gil looked at Theo. “You promised Agatha…but why didn’t you tell me that before you left?”

Theo and Sleipnir looked at each other. Then Sleipnir turned back to him. “I’m sorry, Gil. It was…well…it was because we didn’t entirely trust you.”

The awkward moment stretched out until Gil shrugged and turned away. “Can’t blame you, I guess. You hadn’t seen me in years and I suppose it was a bit of a shock, finding out who I really am.”

Sleipnir snorted. “You think?”

Gil smiled mirthlessly. “If we’re talking about trust, I guess I felt more betrayed than you did because I never got any mail.” He raised a preemptive hand. “I’m still trying to find out what that was all about. But…I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you. Really sorry, it would’ve been…nice to tell someone about it,” he admitted. “Anyway, you were right. I probably would have made things worse. Agatha didn’t trust me either.”

Everyone was silent for a moment. Then Theo stepped forward and put his hand on Gil’s arm. “For what it’s worth,” he said quietly, “I trust you now.”

Gil looked surprised. “Oh?”

Theo gestured towards the street below. “I was standing right behind you when the soldiers found you. I listened. You really do want to help her. Out there? You sounded just like the Gil I grew up with.”

“I’m not,” Gil said flatly. “Too many things have changed. I’ll never be that person again.” He smiled and punched Theo in the arm. “But I can remember the important bits.”

With that, it was like a switch had been thrown and the tension drained from the room. Minutes later, they were lounging about the room’s settees, drinks in hand. Gil had protested but Theo had pointed out that they couldn’t really do anything until the streets were clear of Wulfenbach soldiers.

Sleipnir leaned forward. “So Agatha is in the Castle and the Baron is going to destroy it. Why?”

Gil paused. “Because he thinks Agatha is the Other.”

Both Theo and Sleipnir looked horrified. “Is she?”

“No!” Gil paused. “Well, yes. Sometimes…” He saw the two of them staring at him. “She’s…possessed.”

Sleipnir stared at him for another second, and then deliberately put her drink down. “Possessed.”

Gil spent several minutes bringing them up to speed. He sighed as he finished. “I know it sounds crazy! It is crazy! But the important point is that if it’s true, it’s not actually Agatha who’s the problem, and that means that there’s got to be something I can do to save her!”

Sleipnir folded her arms together. “And if you can’t?”

Gil drained his glass and slammed it down onto the table. “Then I’ll take care of her myself. But, unlike my father, I’m willing to give her a chance.”

Sleipnir and Theo glanced at each other and suddenly grinned. They turned back. “Listen to you!” Sleipnir snagged the bottle and poured Gil another drink. “That’s why we can trust you.”

Gil stared at them and suddenly slumped back into his seat. “I am so glad to see you guys again. My head is spinning. I…” He suddenly examined the drink in his hand. “What am I drinking?”

Theo grinned. “I cooked it up myself! It’s a new recipe!”

Gil looked alarmed. “And you let me drink this?”

Sleipnir shrugged. “It’s great. It helps you open up. Express your inner thoughts. In vino veritas and all that.”

Gil frowned “Yessss… that sounds like one of Theo’s. I remember his ‘Electrical Acid Two Hundred Proof Jolly Sugar Doom.’” He carefully put his glass down.

Theo looked offended. “This from a guy who once concocted an aperitif from toothpaste and hedgehogs.”

“They’re still selling that,” Gil said breezily. He caught himself. “Oh dear, it’s still building, isn’t it?”

Theo pulled out a pocket watch. “Relax, you just had the one, yes?”

Gil racked his brain. “I…I can’t remember.”

Theo waved a hand. “If you’d had more than one, then by now you’d be weeping maudlin tears over all those hedgehogs.”

“Poor little hedgehogs,” Gil whispered. Then he shook himself. “Yeah, that would be bad.” He looked at them. “What were we talking about?”

Sleipnir smiled. “About how we were going to storm the Castle?”

Gil’s head tipped back and he closed his eyes. “Riiight. Right, right, right. That’s gonna be tricky. I should pick up some tools and… stuff. Tool stuff.” He glanced at a clock on the mantle. “But it’s late. All’a shops’ll be closed.” He turned to the two of them “Gunna have to build a mechanical shoplifter.” A tear welled up in his eye and dripped off his nose. “Gunna be a criminal.” His head lolled until he was looking at Sleipnir. “Agatha’s not like you. She’s not gunna wanna be in love with a criminal.”

Sleipnir snorted. “It is an acquired taste.”

Theo rolled his eyes. “Relax. Tools we have. We’ve been outfitting for an expedition, remember?”

Gil visibly brightened. “Excellent! Give ’em here!”

Sleipnir pushed him back into his seat. “Nuh-uh. We’ll carry the supplies.”

Gil frowned. “Why?”

“Because if we give them to you, you’ll try to leave us outside.”

Gil slumped back again. “Curses,” he mumbled. “Another brilliant plan, foiled.”

Sleipnir smiled serenely. “If you try to steal them, I’ll have to fight you.”

Gil recoiled. “No! You fight dirty!”

“A base canard.”

Theo hiccupped and clapped his hands together. “I think we’re as ready as we’re going to get! Let’s move out!”

A short time later, two Wulfenbach troopers were leaning on a balustrade outside one of Castle Heterodyne’s smaller gates. There were troops at every entrance now. The Baron had acknowledged that it was unlikely that there were any more Heterodyne claimants waiting to push their way into the ancient deathtrap, but one never knew. At least with any luck, they’d be able to catch one of the ones already inside on her way out.

There had certainly been some excitement earlier in the evening when the Torchmen had activated and launched skyward, but since they seemed to have no interest in anyone on the ground, the troops had eventually relaxed and were gazing upwards, enjoying the show.

Castle Wulfenbach and its attendant flotilla had managed to outrun the Torchmen. Several smaller ships had fallen to Earth, some in more control than others, and at least a dozen more had successfully managed to contain the fires.

The Torchmen themselves had circled the town three times and even now the last of them were drifting back to their posts like flaming snowflakes. Every now and then, one of the aged mechanisms suddenly seized up and plummeted to the ground. At least two fires were burning, one in a small shop right below the troopers’ post. Even as the two men watched, one of the great metal fire-fighting dragons of Mechanicsburg lumbered around a corner. The driver waddled the thing up close to the fire and the crew leapt off. They unreeled the canvas hose hidden in the tail and dragged it to the nearest of the many canals that wove through the city.

Then they signaled the driver. With a roar, pumps started, the metal neck swung up, and the mouth spat a highly pressurized stream of water. The attendant crowd cheered.

The two guards nodded in professional appreciation and returned their gaze to the returning Torchmen.

“The Castle is still flyin’,” the younger guard said with evident relief.

“Yup.” The older man said. “And those flaming things are coming back home.”

The younger guard thought about this. “Um…But we’re still here… so who won?”

The older one clapped him on the shoulder. “Charge your gun and live in the moment, kid.”

A murmur caught their attention. Three people were climbing up the stairway, a touch unsteadily. The older soldier instantly identified them as a bunch of tipsy kids. This wouldn’t be the first batch of revelers to have climbed up the Castle stairs for a better look.

“Look,” the kid in the lead said with exaggerated reasonableness. “You really don’t have to come in. You just give me all the equipment, and—”

“No way,” said a second young man. “This is our stuff. We collected it for our trip. If we give it to you, you’ll just break it or use it to build twisted mockeries of science. Probably both.”

“Yeah,” the girl with them chimed in. “No way we’re going to let you have all that fun without us.”

The old soldier sighed. Wannabe Sparks.⁵⁵ There were a lot of them in Mechanicsburg. Time to send them packing.

“Halt!”

The group stumbled into each other at the top of the stairs. The old soldier was struck by the fact that they didn’t look startled or even particularly guilty. This was ridiculous. Students were always guilty of something.

The lead fellow nudged his companion and murmured, “Here we go.” Then he stood straight and bellowed, “Know that I—!”

“Wait!” The other one frantically tugged at the speaker’s sleeve. The girl leaned in as well. “We forgot the crowd!”

The loud kid deflated and turned to them with a look of incredulity upon his face. “You are kidding me.” He looked around and saw nothing but the two stolid soldiers. “I didn’t think I could go three meters in this town without attracting a crowd.” He waved at the soldiers and called out: “Hold on, we’ll be right back!” Then the three of them clattered noisily back down the stairs.

The two soldiers waited for the regulation minute and then lowered their rifles. The older soldier turned to his companion. “See? That’s what college’ll do to you. Now go brew us up a mug.”

Gil and Theo tried to ignore Sleipnir’s giggles as they all clumped down the stairs. “Maybe we could just leave a note,” she suggested.

“No!” Gil was emphatic. A part of his brain noted with relief that the fresh air seemed to be clearing the last of Theo’s concoction from his head. “We need a crowd. A big crowd. They’ve got to see us going in.” He rolled his eyes. “What’s driving me crazy is that I had a crowd, and I let them get away.”

Theo dramatically placed a hand to his forehead. “Ah, the fickleness of the mob. Their love, once gone, is gone forever. You are a has-been, my friend. Yesterday’s news.”

Sleipnir waited until Theo wound down. “We’ll just have to build a new crowd.”

Gil stopped dead on the stairs. “That would take weeks!”

Theo nodded, “And the graveyard is all the way across town.”

Sleipnir nodded. “Stand a little closer so I can slap the two of you at once.” With the ease of practice, the two stepped away from each other. “I mean,” she continued, “that we have to do something exciting to get people’s attention!”

Theo nodded. “Oh. Yeah, that would work, too.”

They reached the bottom of the stairs, and Gil turned towards the tourist district. “Let’s go.”

They soon found that there were lots of people on the streets already—many of them drinking.

Theo looked around. “Standing out in this is going to be tough,” he admitted.

Suddenly a familiar voice rang out. “There you are!”

Gil turned and saw Zeetha, a half-eaten honey-glazed “trilobiteon-a-stick” in her hand. Behind her stood Krosp and a bemused Airman Higgs, still cradling Gil’s hat. “We knew you’d wander out here eventually. Still planning on going into the Castle?”

Gil nodded. “Yesss. But first we need a good fight.”

Theo looked surprised, then nodded. “Oh. Yes, that would do it.”

Zeetha’s face went blank. Gil took a large step back and leveled a stern finger at her. “That’s right, you brazen hussy!” he roared. A few of the people in the surrounding crowd turned towards them. “I, Gilgamesh Wulfenbach, will enter Castle Heterodyne! And if you try to stop me, I will fight you in a suitably noisy and crowd-gathering manner! Let all who gather see that I—Gilgamesh Wulfenbach—will defend the Heterodyne girl with my life!”

Zeetha’s trilobite dripped honey onto her hand. “What?”

Gil opened his eyes wide and stared at her pointedly—willing her to play along. “No one will keep me from her side! She is my chosen bride and any who harm her will answer to me!” Gil stopped. “Whoa, did I really just say that?”

Theo nodded. “Yes.”

Sleipnir nodded.

Zeetha stared at him.

Gil waved his hands. “Okay, nobody heard that.”

“I heard it,” Krosp said.

Zeetha stared at Krosp.

Gil gave up. “O-ho! So your vile cat slanders my good name! Now we must fight!!”

The crowd held its breath. Zeetha opened her mouth wider than one would have thought possible and stuffed the rest of the trilobite inside. She then spat the clean stick at Gil’s feet and grinned. “You are such a dork. Fine. You want to get into the Castle?”

There was a shining blur and her swords were in her hands, glinting in the lights. The crowd moved back quickly and a clear space opened around the combatants. “I am going to kick your butt, hogtie you, and drag you to Agatha myself. She could probably use a good laugh right now.”

Gil held a hand up and Sleipnir tossed an odd-looking tube weapon into it. Zeetha’s eyes narrowed. Gil spoke to her, more quietly now. “I have a better idea. We’ll fight, I’ll win, and you’ll stay safely outside.”

The tube weapon began to whirr as it warmed up.

“Agatha will be mad at me if I let her friends get hurt. So come on! We’ve got to make it an entertaining fight!” His voice rose to a theatrical shout again and he looked comically alarmed. “Oooh. Swords! You’re gonna beat me up? I’m scared!”

He aimed up overhead and pulled a trigger. In a lightning-fast series of soft explosions, he emptied the weapon towards the sky. “Scared it’ll be over too soon, that is.”

Zeetha had leapt back from the flash of heat from the weapon’s muzzle. “Whoa! Hey! Watch where you’re pointing the death ray, Madboy!” she yelled. “What exactly is your idea of ‘safe’?”

Fireworks exploded overhead. Gil tossed the shooter away. “Ooh. The mean ol’ swordswoman is afraid of a little boom!” he mocked. “Don’t worry, I wasn’t trying to hit you. I just wanted people to know there was a show.”

Zeetha stared into the sky. “Whoo! Good job!” she sneered. “You found a target even you couldn’t miss!”

“Kind of like your big mouth!” Gil returned. He flipped over the next device that was handed to him and turned a crank, ejecting a stream of what appeared to be forks. He raised his voice. “Now—face the terror of my hand-cranked runcible gun!”

Zeetha was having fun. Her swords moved in a swirling pattern—and she smirked as Gil found himself dodging his own forks. “Ha! Pathetic! Better a big mouth than a big empty space where my brain should be! Nyeah!”

“Oh, that’s really mature—ow!” Gil shouted. He spun and weaved, but when he tossed aside the weapon and faced Zeetha he realized that she was nowhere to be seen. There were just Krosp and Higgs, standing there, gazing upwards wide-eyed. Gil threw himself backwards so that Zeetha’s boots barely missed his head. He continued rolling, avoiding her kicks and lunges, until he doubled back and she sailed past him, giving him enough time to slap a small device onto her back.

Zeetha froze and then frantically tried to reach the small of her back. “What is that?”

“Nothing serious,” Gil said, “Just one of Dr. Prometheus Bunbury’s ‘Jolly Fun Oxidation Enhancers.’ You can buy ’em in any novelty store in Paris. Unless you toss aside those swords, in five seconds, they’re going to go ‘poof’!”

Zeetha glared at him and tossed her swords straight up into the air, where they spun in two glittering arcs. There was indeed a ‘Thoof’ sound, and Zeetha’s clothing disintegrated in a small cloud of dust, fibers, and metal bits that clattered to the ground. The crowd “oooohed” appreciatively. Zeetha’s swords dropped into her outstretched hands.

Gil’s face went scarlet. “…Unless I used the ‘Wacky Weave Destabilizer’ instead, which is possible, since they all look quite similar…but!” He rallied quickly. “Well—um—well, now we’re even. I guess you’re staying behind after all. You can’t go into the Castle like that! A pity the fight was so short, but—” Zeetha’s foot caught him in the side of the head and he slammed into the pavement.

She stood over him laughing. “The Warriors of the Double Guard always train naked, little boy.” She glanced about, “Besides, you wanted a crowd? You’ll get a crowd.” She waved to a group of soldiers, who responded with enthusiastic whistles.

“Not that kind of crowd!” Gil snarled.

Zeetha laughed and kicked him again, sending him sprawling, to the crowd’s delight. “To an entertainer, there’s no such thing as a bad audience.” She sashayed towards him. “Besides what kind of Spark are you if you let something like this distract you?”

“The kind of Spark that lets other people get distracted.”

Without thinking, Zeetha somersaulted backwards, which was why the cage produced by the little device Gil had slid towards her feet snapped shut on empty air.

Gil stared at her in admiration. “You’re fast, I’ll give you that…” A movement at the corner of his eye was all the warning he had. He dodged to one side and again the cage closed on nothing. As he scrambled back, Gil saw that the device had raised itself on a number of thin, spider-like legs. I don’t remember building those, he thought worriedly. In his effort to escape, he ran into something soft.

“What is that thing?” Zeetha demanded.

“Well… It’s a sort of automatic cage-trap…thing. It was supposed to pop up and grab you.”

The device had seen the two of them, and now trundled towards them. “I based it on those little things that Agatha makes,” Gil admitted. “But something seems a bit off.”

The cage mechanism snapped out at the two of them. If they hadn’t moved quickly, it would have trapped them both.

Gil looked down at it from the wall on which he perched. “Interesting. I guess it’ll just keep going until it catches something.”

“Idiot!” Zeetha smacked the back of his head and pointed. “You mean it could try to grab someone in the crowd?”

The device had been staring upwards at the two of them but at Zeetha’s words, it paused, wheeled around and regarded the staring crowd. Its cage mechanism flexed and it moved off towards them.

Gil smacked the back of Zeetha’s head. “Yeah, maybe.” He stood and yelled at the crowd. “Don’t let it get too close!” Unfortunately, the crowd had solidified nicely and things were so entertaining that they were loath to leave.

“Great!” Zeetha leapt towards it, “Can we stop it?”

“It should be easy,” Gil said. Zeetha sliced through the clank’s thin metal arms, then had to leap backwards as several dozen more unfolded and reached for her. Her next swipe cut halfway through one of the thin rods and stuck. She frantically tugged it free a half-second before she would have been trapped. The crowd applauded.

Gil stared. “It’s…it’s learning.”

Krosp spoke up. “Yeah, Agatha’s do that, too. Well done.” Another set of arms unfolded. Several of these were equipped with tips that resembled policemen’s sword-breakers. Zeetha swore and dodged a concerted attack by no less than five of them at once. The crowd cheered.

Gil turned towards Theo and Sleipnir. “A little help here?”

Their eyes lit up. “Really?”

Sleipnir pulled a large sack open and began tossing out devices. “I thought you’d never ask!”

Gil felt a sense of dread as he dodged a series of arms equipped with clasping pinchers.

Theo brandished a device with glowing orange lights. “I’ll separate the crowd from the thing with my Stalagmite Gun!” He pulled the trigger and swept the resulting beam across the street. Wherever it touched, cobblestones melted and erupted upward into superheated glowing spikes, causing the crowd to shriek.

Sleipnir took a deep breath. She had a large oily bag festooned with glowing rods and pipes that began to pour out an acrid smoke. “And I’ll get that beastie with my Hot Pipes!” She blew into a mouthpiece, spitting out an earsplitting shriek along with a thin stream of brilliant green flame. This enveloped a set of the device’s arms, covering them with a sticky, burning coating.

Krosp took in the resulting chaos. “Great. Now the crowd is hemmed in by the stalagmites while the flaming clank advances.”

Theo and Sleipnir looked abashed. “We can fix that,” Theo assured the cat.

Zeetha dodged a set of metal hooks. “They are trying to help, yes?”

Gil sighed. “It’s my fault, really. I make it look easy.”

Another set of manipulators burst forth. “How many arms did you build into this thing?”

“It’s making more,” Gil told her.

“Hi! Are you a tramp?”

While they were chopping arms, neither one of them had noticed that a small girl had wandered up to them. She was obviously fascinated by Zeetha. “Mama says you must be a tramp ’cause of the way you’re dressed.” Zeetha frantically swiped away a set of arms that were reaching for the girl. “Either that, or you’re an actress.” The girl turned to Krosp. “You’re a kitty.”

Krosp grabbed the girl and swung her away from a large grasping hand. “Do you like cheese?” she asked.

“Hey!” Krosp yelled at Gil. “Prince Myshkin! This thing just wants to catch someone, right?”

“Yes!”

“Would it hurt them?”

“No!”

Krosp smiled. “Fine. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to get involved, but if I don’t, we’ll be stuck here all night.”

Gil looked alarmed. “Krosp, wait! Don’t do anything dangerous!”

“Relax. I’ll be fine.” The cat shoved the little girl directly into the grasp of the device. Instantly it formed a cage. There was a “pop” and a small burst of confetti, followed by a few bars of victorious music. Then the clank stood still.

The girl’s eyes went wide with delight. “MOMMA!” she squealed, “I’M INNA SHOW!”

The audience cheered.

Zeetha grabbed the cat by the scruff of his neck. “Krosp!”

“What? No one got hurt!” This was so evidently true that Zeetha could only glare.

Gil smiled charmingly as the little girl’s mother strode forward. “Don’t worry, ma’am, she’s—oof!” He gasped as the woman sank her fist into his stomach.

“Hyu peeg!” the woman hissed. “Get her out, now!”

Krosp shrugged. “Well, no one important.” He eyed the surrounding sea of faces. “So, showbiz girl, big enough crowd?”

“Yeah.” Zeetha graciously accepted a robe from an admiring monk, who was having serious second thoughts about his current lifestyle choices, and donned it to a wave of collective disappointment. “This should be good.”

Meanwhile, Sleipnir had twisted back enough of the bars that the little girl could wriggle free. “There you go, kid.”

The girl twirled and curtsied at Gil. “Thanks! So long, funny man.”

Gil gave a wan smile. “So lo—gooorgh!” Another sock to the gut caused him to drop to his knees.

“Hyu bad man,” the woman hissed. “Hyu no talk to my leedle gurl.”

Theo helped Gil to his feet. “Wow. Still the ladies’ man.”

“Will you give it a rest,” Gil snarled. He looked around at the crowd and nodded. “Okay, I’m ready to speak.”

Krosp and Zeetha glanced at each other. “Maybe you should let someone introduce you.”

Zeetha nodded. “Yeah. On your own, you’re too—”

Gil impatiently waved them off. “I can introduce myself.” He turned to the crowd. “People of Mechanicsburg,” he shouted. “I suppose you’re wondering what this is all about?”

Actually, everyone in the crowd was already pretty sure. A shower of coins hit the ground around Gil’s feet.

Gil waved his arms. “No! No! This isn’t a show! I’m serious!”

The audience laughed. One wag called out, “So what’s your name, kid?”

Krosp rubbed his forehead with his paw. “I knew we should’ve introduced him,” he muttered.

Gil squared his shoulders. “I am Gilgamesh Wulfenbach. I’m the Baron’s son.”

The crowd stared at him. Then erupted with howls of laughter. The wag pointed to Krosp. “I get it! And that’s the Baron’s dog, isn’t it?”

“And she’s the Baron’s daughter!” Zeetha’s face went red.

“And those are your oafish minions!” Theo and Sleipnir looked around until they realized where the crowd was pointing.

“And you must also be the gol-danged Storm King!” The sight of Gil’s face sent the crowd into such peals of laughter that many of them collapsed to the ground.

“What’ll we do?” Zeetha hissed. “He’s going to kill them.”

Suddenly Gil threw his head back and laughed. Krosp and Zeetha jumped. “That’s right, folks!”

Then Gil, lightning stick glowing, started back up the stairway to the castle entrance. “So follow me! The second act is just about to start!” And with that, he turned and bounded up the stairs.

Theo and Sleipnir looked at each other. “Uh-oh.”

They rushed over to Krosp and Zeetha just as Airman Higgs ambled up. “Nice moves,” he remarked to Zeetha.

For some reason, the realization that the airman had seen the whole performance—including her state of undress—caused Zeetha to blush furiously. That he had so little to say about it only annoyed her further. “Come on,” she said brusquely. “We can’t let him get too far ahead.”

The two soldiers guarding the castle gate were gazing skyward again. Gil’s fireworks display had died down but they were still hopeful and it provided a convenient hook for another of the old soldier’s recollections. “And that was the last time Professor Phosphorous visited the fireworks factory.” He thought for a moment. “Or anything else, really.”

The younger soldier digested this. “Wow. So is that what you think we saw?”

The old soldier shrugged. “Wouldn’t surprise me, kid.” He waved a knowing hand at the brightly lit town below. “Lotsa loony Sparks come through Mechanicsburg.”

The younger man, whose career as a raconteur was doomed by an unshakable respect for actual facts, pointed towards the East. “But they only got the one factory here and I don’t see anything going on with it.”

“In this town? It could’ve been an explosion in a coffee shop. I heard from one of the guys on the day shift that—”

This interesting line of discourse was silenced by the sound of footsteps at the top of the stairs. The soldiers looked down and recognized the three young people who had appeared before, now accompanied by a throng of townspeople and delighted tourists. Their voices grew louder as they drew near.

“Gil, you’re making me nervous…”

“How can that be?” Both of the guards snapped to attention. There was something about the young man’s voice now that made them uneasy. “A jolly entertainer like myself? A spreader of mirth?”

“At least…stop smiling like that. It’s creepy.”

“But everyone is having such a good time!”

“If you look like a demented idiot, no one will take you seriously.”

This voice appeared to come from a midget in a cat costume. The guards looked at each other. Street performers. Simultaneously, they thumbed the safeties of their rifles off.

“But no one takes me seriously now!” Gil waved at the soldiers and took another step towards them, grinning maniacally.

“HALT!” The older soldier raised a hand while the younger ostentatiously cocked his weapon.⁵⁶ “You young’uns just turn around and head back to whatever tavern you came out of!”

Gil turned around and mugged at the crowd which began chuckling even before he faced back towards the troopers. He grinned. “Hi! I’m Gilgamesh Wulfenbach! Can I please go into the castle?”

“NO!”

Gil again turned back to the laughing crowd. “There, everyone! You heard me! I asked nice!”

The old soldier blinked. “Wait… You’re who?”

But, of course, by then it was much too late.

The explosion caused the Castle itself to shudder. Agatha reeled as debris pitter-pattered down around her. “What was that?”

“The Gate of Lamps is under attack,” the Castle replied.

“Who’s attacking?”

“It appears to be a mob of some sort.” The Castle sounded offended. “That’s rather unfair, you haven’t even done anything yet.”

Tarvek was thinking. “The Gate of Lamps…” He grabbed Agatha’s sleeve and hauled her down a different hallway. “Come on,” he shouted. “We should be able to see that from the windows of the next gallery!”

Agatha was impressed. “You know a lot about the layout of this place.”

Tarvek dodged a hole in the floor. “Well, we have had people in here for years plotting on the best way to take it, haven’t we? I did read the reports.”

They stumbled past a shattered door and found themselves in a long airy room lined with windows. Broken glassware and dust-covered equipment littered the floor, almost obscuring the faded rugs.

“The Laboratory of Light,” the Castle announced. Your great-grandmother was so very fond of it.”

The lights here were dim and they had to step carefully past the machinery. The windows were filthy but an entire panel had been shattered at some time in the past so they clustered in front of the opening and peered out. The ground was easily three stories down and the excitement seemed to be taking place in front of a side entrance hung with glowing lamps. Far below, a crowd of tiny people was surging back and forth. Some were pouring down the long stairway that led back to the town proper. Many seemed to be just milling about in a panic. This was stopped by a lone figure gesturing towards the castle doors. A bolt of lightning leaped from his hand—no, from some sort of stick—and blew apart the great doors.

Tarvek gasped. “Was that lightning?”

Agatha leaned forward. “Is that Gil?”

Gilgamesh stood in front of the smoking entrance, flaming bits of doorway raining down around him. The two guards were huddled against the stonework of the castle itself, so terrified they couldn’t even flee. The crowd that remained had also dropped to the ground, and now peered up at Gil, their eyes wide. This included Zeetha, Krosp, Sleipnir, and Theo, who at least were already rising to their feet. The only odd touch was Higgs. He alone remained standing patiently, Gil’s magnificent hat cradled in one arm.

“Are we all paying attention now?” The madboy harmonics roaring through Gil’s voice made sure that this was the case, even if he had not just blown down the castle door. “Good! I, Gilgamesh Wulfenbach, am now entering the castle to aid the true Heterodyne heir!”

The older soldier stared up at him and dared to speak. “You… you’re really him? But…but you can’t be…”

Gil glared down at him. “I don’t know what I have to do to prove it to you—”

At which point Airman Higgs stepped up behind him and gently placed the magnificent hat upon his head. Higgs lit the flame on its top with his pipe, stood back, and calmly struck a theatrical pose. Krosp, Zeetha, Theo, and Sleipnir—with somewhat more enthusiasm—followed suit. Zeetha added a hearty “Ta dahh!” as she gestured.

The crowd gasped in awe.

Gil felt a brief wave of sympathy for every rogue Spark who’d ever turned a town of peasants into squirrels.

High overhead, Violetta looked up from her spyglass. She had been giving the others a running report on what was going on below. “But where did he get that incredible hat?”

Agatha closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I can guess.”

Tarvek looked worried. “Let me see this guy.” Violetta smacked his hand away. “No. Designed for my body chemistry, remember? If you try to use it, it’ll send a spike into your eye.” She paused. “Here you go.”

Tarvek ignored her and turned to Agatha. “He says he’s coming to help you. Do you trust him?”

Agatha blushed slightly. “Well…not really. Not yet.” She looked at Tarvek frankly. “About as much as I trust you.”

Tarvek frowned. “What did he do to you?”

From the crowd below, they could hear a tiny voice rising above the hubbub.

If Zeetha had learned anything during her travels with Master Payne’s Circus of Adventure, it was how to shout coherently. “Yes indeed, ladies and gentlemen—the dangerously handsome young man who stands before you is indeed the son of Baron Wulfenbach!

Aaaand he has personally vowed to woo, win, and wed the Lady Heterodyne—and bring peace to all Europa!”

Gil’s infuriated shrieks were nearly drowned out by a huge cheer from the crowd. “It’s true, Ladies and Gentlemen!” she continued. “And never fear, folks, I’m sure he intends to wed her most vigorously!” This time, the colossal roar of approval completely obliterated Gil’s screams of protest.

Agatha looked upwards. It was hard not to when addressing the Castle’s invisible omnipresence. “Castle? You can kill me, now.”

The Castle chuckled. “As if I hadn’t heard that one before. Rest assured, my Lady, by this time tomorrow, I have every confidence that you’ll be happy to still be alive.” It paused. “If indeed you are.”

“Ooh!” Violetta was glued to her spyglass again. “The guy in the hat is trying to kill the girl with the green hair.” She looked up. “The others are holding him back but he’s making them work at it.”

“What an unspeakable cad!” Tarvek’s face was almost as red as Agatha’s. “Does he always have his lackeys announce his planned conquests?”

“Well, the crowd’s for it,” Violetta remarked, and indeed the sound of cheering had yet to die down.

Moloch snorted. “The crowd is always for that.”

Tarvek dropped his voice. “Agatha, just say the word—and I’ll do everything in my power to sort this fellow out for you—him and his uncouth minions…”

Agatha had a brief mental image of Tarvek trying to “sort out” Zeetha. Brief, because she figured it would be over in less than ten seconds, once Zeetha stopped laughing. “I appreciate the offer,” she said, “because by the time I get through with him, I expect there will be a lot of pieces to sort!”

“What are you idiots trying to do to me?!” Gil shouted, waving the glowing walking stick he carried. “When Agatha hears about that—Argh! Not to mention that my Father will level this place because I’ve obviously gone insane!”

Zeetha looked like she was enjoying his misery. “Phooey. You said you wanted people to talk about it, and besides…it was funny!”

Despite his mood, Gil knew better than to ignore his surroundings. They were well worth the attention. Once they had entered through the now ruined gate, the architecture of Castle Heterodyne had proved impossible to ignore. The old Heterodynes had known the importance of architecture as a method of intimidation, and had used it well.

The effect was only emphasized by the ubiquitous red lights. The majority of the group stepped carefully, nervous about the traps that were supposed to be everywhere. The only exceptions were Gil, who was stomping furiously on ahead of the rest of the group, and Airman Higgs, who was apparently taking his order to stay by Gil’s side as literally as possible.

Higgs spoke up. “Um…sir? I would like to point out that we are now inside Castle Heterodyne? A hideous uncontrolled engine of death?”

Gil scowled. “Now you’re just trying to cheer me up. Well, it won’t work. I’m still mad.”

But Gil realized that he might be leading the loyal airman into danger and the thought brought him up short. He allowed the others to catch up and they proceeded more cautiously.

Zeetha caught him in a friendly headlock. She laughed. “Aww, you are so cute. Relax. Agatha is a smart girl. She’ll be mad at me.” Gil considered this. Zeetha continued, “And if she is mad at you, think of all the fun you’ll have making up.”

Gil growled at her. “I want you to know that, although I currently hate my life, I hate all of you more.”

“Aw! So grumpy!” Zeetha rubbed his untidy hair with one fist and then allowed him to spin away from her. He harrumphed and again strode forward. Higgs scurried to keep up.

They heard a gasp from the doorway in front of them.

“Gil? Is that you?”

High above Mechanicsburg, the last of the Torchmen were beating their way back to their lampposts. Two of the last were working very hard. They had responded to signals while attacking Castle Wulfenbach, and the protocols had checked out. A passenger had been transferred to their care. They had actually been on their way back to the twinkling lights of Mechanicsburg with their new burden while the rest of the flock had still been driving the great airship and its attendant fleet towards the border.

At last the heights of Castle Heterodyne were coming into focus. A particular balcony lit up, torches puffing into explosive light one after the other, until a relatively undamaged area was clearly lit.

Wings working furiously, the Torchmen angled for the designated area. Once they were close enough, a great wood and iron door squealed ponderously open.

“Ah,” the Castle said. “You’ve returned.”

Their passenger, a tall woman sheathed in black leather adorned with a profusion of straps and buckles revealed her needle sharp teeth. Once they were over the balcony, she released her hold upon the strap held by the Torchmen and effortlessly dropped to the balcony. The clanks flapped off. She didn’t bother to watch them go.

“Of course I’ve returned,” Mistress Von Pinn hissed. “A Heterodyne has come home.” She glided towards the open door. “And thus, so must I.”

_______________

⁴⁹ Bloodbat (Desmodontinœ Extremum Sanguine Comedenti) An interesting variety of blood-drinking bat said to have been introduced to the Mechanicsburg area by the Black Heterodyne, who discovered them on one of his adventures in the Subterranean Kingdoms. Apparently he was so enchanted by the thought of nature having produced something so dreadful, all by itself, that he wanted to share it with the world.

⁵⁰ Spiderroach (Loxosceles Blattella Stamina Telœ Heterodyne). These creatures, on the other hand, were created by the Red Heterodyne, who was convinced that the works of Nature could always be improved. The Red and Black Heterodynes were brothers who were always involved in philosophical arguments that had horrendous real-world consequences.

⁵¹ Venomous Rafter Toad (Bufo Venenatorum Trabe Heterodyne) Actually, nobody is quite sure where these horrid little amphibians came from. They are only tolerated because they feed almost exclusively on bloodbats and spiderroaches.

⁵² For assorted political reasons, The Baron had acumulated many of the children of various Sparks, rulers and troublemakers throughout the Empire—officially as hostages against their parents’ good behavior. While they stayed on Castle Wulfenbach, he had them educated in political theory, business management, the sciences, the humanities, and charm and deportment. While history has shown that this resulted in an unprecidented sophisticated and well-rounded ruling class, Klaus frankly admitted that he had started the program “to keep them busy and out from underfoot.”

⁵³ Because it was a lamp. The device, which students will find first described in Agatha H. and The Airship City, was apparently looted from Castle Heterodyne, and, in addition to being a lamp, was both an energy source and a device capable of generating a small portable invisibility field. The Heterodynes liked to design mechanisms that had multiple functions, one of which was usually to cause surprise.

⁵⁴ This sort of rigmarole is actually fairly standard when talking about “lost laboratories.” Sparks are a secretive lot, and they keep their blasphemous secrets held close to their vests. On average, a good Spark will invest anywhere from one-half to two-thirds of his or her time and energy on the design and hiding of an elaborate lair, as they seem to have an instinctual understanding that people work best in an environment where the controls to all the deathtraps are right at their fingertips. This is a good thing, overall, as time spent digging an elaborate “Maze of Madness” is less time spent trying to find a way to turn the nearest city into a beautiful volcanic moonscape. Thus, it should come as no surprise to those who knows his modus operandi that it was Baron Wulfenbach who lavishly bankrolled a very effective advertising campaign that let people know that “You Can Judge A Spark’s Strength By His Lair!”

⁵⁵ An interesting sociological phenomenon, usually found near colleges. Essentially, people who like to think that they are nascent Sparks. It was a conceit with varying degrees of dedication. At one end, you have those who play at what they think a Spark might be like, as an excuse to indulge in various recreational excesses, all the way up to those who desperately hope that they really are Sparks, usually because they didn’t do the studying and hope to be able to turn their professors into weevils before finals. As seasoned professors, we can assure you that this hardly ever happens, so get back to your books.

⁵⁶ The Baron’s Weapon Designers had demonstrated that the sound of a gun being cocked could instantly silence an entire room full of people yelling at each other. They had subsequently designed the Empire’s guns so that this sound was amplified and engineered to convey even more menace. Klaus deemed the project a success when, in a field experiment, a single trooper was able to silence a stadium full of enraged football fans who had just watched a goalie obviously throw a game. To be fair, he then had the goalie executed. Klaus liked clean sports.