by Phil Foglio
For his part, Vole had spent several fruitless minutes trying to dislodge her, even slamming himself back into the rough, instrument-covered walls, all to no avail. Eventually he had sighed in exasperation and concentrated on the important task of killing people. This was proving equally difficult, as Violetta kept slapping the gun and spoiling his aim.
“Knives und sand!” He snarled. “Betveen hyu und de dam kestle rattlink, how iz a guy supposed to shoot somevun?”
“Give that back, you thief!” Violetta returned. “I stole that gun off you fair and square!”
“Ho! Grow op, sveethot! Hyu iz just mad ’cause hy stole it back!” Violetta yanked his hair and stuck another knife into his scalp. Vole roared. “Finders keepers, losers bleeders!” He howled. Vole wasn’t often impressed by “normal pipple,” but with every knife thrust, Violetta was dangerously close to earning his respect.
Onto this display of Grand Guignol78 themed acrobatics burst Agatha. When she saw the scene before her, she stopped dead. “Seriously? You guys haven’t gotten rid of him yet?”
Violetta looked offended. “Hey! Be fair—this guy is pretty tough.”
When he saw Agatha, Vole’s face twisted from petulance into a mask of rage. “Hyu? So hyu heff keeled Professor Teektoffen, den, hey?” He sighed. “Vy iz hy not sooprized?” He raised his gun and pointed it towards Agatha, allowed Violetta to get a firm grip on it, then casually flung it—and her—away.
He grinned reproachfully. “Diz iz just vunna doze days. Hy svear, sumtimes, if hyu vants an atrocity dun right, hyu gots to do it hyuself. But I come in here to keel sparks, und dots vot hy iz gonna do!” He lunged towards Agatha, but was unprepared for the impact of Gil landing on his back.
Vole rolled his eyes and flexed his claws. “Hyu schtupid brat. Hyu dun’ learn too goot, do—”
Four sledgehammer blows hit various parts of his face within seconds. Vole staggered and just had time to realize that the thing he felt pressing into his throat was the barrel of the gun, and that the terrifying face centimeters from his own was Gil’s, when he heard the sound of the trigger snapping home. Nothing happened. Twice more Gil pulled the trigger and then stared at the gun in disgust. “So it’s one of those days,” he growled.
Vole stared at him. “Hokay,” he admitted weakly. “Hy tink dot maybe hyu learns pretty dem goot, ecktually.”
Another far-off explosion caused the building to roll in place. Small stones rattled down from the ceiling. This made Vole shake off his bemusement and grin. “Ho-ho! Sounds like Count Nikolaba’s Thunder Hogs haff arrived! It von’t be lonk now! All ov hyu iz gonna die! Starting vit hyu, brat!”
Gil nodded once and then snapped Vole’s face to one side with the force of his sudden punch. “Okay, change of plan.” Even in Vole’s battered state, he could hear Gil’s voice had entered registers that were usually only reached by the most crazed sparks. This was worrying, as Vole, an experienced reader of sparks, had the definite impression the young Wulfenbach was just warming up. An uppercut to his jaw derailed this train of thought while splintering several of his favorite teeth.
Gil continued. “I’ve been thinking about your earlier lesson, Captain, and you’re absolutely right.” A heavy boot was driven into what, on a human, would have been the solar plexus. Gil made a mental note of the effect (minimal) and continued, “I must take you seriously. If my father is truly dead, then the empire is in danger. And if the empire falls now, with the Castle still weak, then this town will fall and everything we’ve done here will have been pointless.” A leg sweep sent Vole’s head back into the stone wall hard enough that a block cracked. “I will have to hold it all together.” There was an obvious note of regret in his voice echoing amidst the madness. He shrugged at Agatha. “I’m the only one who can.” He spun towards Vole, who flinched as Gil considered him. “You’ll come with me. You’re big and menacing . . . in your own way. You’ll make a fine lackey.”
His pride stung, Vole screamed as he attacked. “Hyu iz krezy! Hy vill rip hyu heart out!” But his headlong rush only added to the impact of Gil’s boot heel impacting on his nose.
“Oh, you’ll certainly try. You’ll try again and again and again! Won’t you?” Gil grinned. “At least, I’m counting on you to try.”
Vole stared at him in confusion. “Hyu . . . hyu iz krezy! And not in de goot vay! Hyu iz talkink like hyu vants me to keel hyu!”
Gil laughed merrily. “Nooo! I want you to try! After all, I have to show the world that I’m strong enough to hold the empire! We’ll make it a game: Who’s the scariest monster?”
Vole stared at Gil and a shudder ran through him as he sagged within Gil’s grip. “Mebee hyu could just keel me, instead?”
Again Gil laughed and ruffled Vole’s hair. “Oh no! Just think how impressive it will be when word gets out that I keep a pet Jäger around to attack me—just to keep me sharp!”
Watching Gil’s display of bravado and his mastery of Vole, Agatha was torn. She didn’t want him to go. She wanted him to stay here by her side where she could listen to him talk in his beautiful intense voice forever.
The other possibility was simply giving up. Going with him now. Abandoning the Castle and the town and everything involved in being the Heterodyne, just so she could remain by him where he’d protect her . . .
When she realized the nature of her inner conflict, she snarled at herself in disgust and slapped her face hard. There was an amused giggle within her head and she felt Lucrezia retreat.
She’s getting better at this, Agatha reflected.
She took a deep breath and saw that everyone, including Gil and Tarvek, was staring at her in sudden concern. She held up a reassuring hand. “Gil. There’s no time for—! You . . . you’ve got to go! Now!”
Gil was in a heightened state of awareness. He saw the way Agatha was looking at him and the rest of the world fell away. He wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms and never let her go, and he knew—he knew that if he did, she would hold onto him just as fiercely. But even in this state, he was all too aware of the reality of the situation. “Yes . . . ” He bit out. “I know. But . . . I will be back.”
Agatha took another deep breath. “You’d better.”
Tarvek stepped in and genially slung an arm around Agatha’s shoulders. “Oh yes,” he said cheerfully, “Do drop in sometime! We’ll bake a cake!”
Gil felt a genuine flash of gratitude to Tarvek. The explosive action required to twist his arm up behind Tarvek’s head before slamming him into a headlock relieved quite a lot of tension. The thrashing and squealing from under his arm was a happy bonus. He focused on Agatha and squeezed Tarvek’s arm tight enough that there was a slight crack. “Listen to everything this duplicitous snake says. His tail is on the line here, too, so he’ll give you good advice.”
Agatha looked at him with eyes he could stare into forever. “I know.”
With herculean effort, Gil turned on his heel and strode off. After several steps he paused, turned, and came back. Only then did he unclench his arm and let Tarvek burst free. He stared longingly at Agatha for a second, then nodded and again turned. “Right. I’m off.”
Agatha watched him go, leaning slightly forward. Behind her, Tarvek rolled his eyes. “Oh, for pity’s sake,” he said irritably. “Go give him something to fight for.”
In a flash, Gil spun about. “GET WOUND, STURMVORAUS! I DO NOT NEED YOUR HELP—”
And then Agatha’s lips were on his and her arms were around his neck, pulling him tightly against her in an embrace that held months of desperate longing. With a shudder, Gil swept her up in his arms and returned her kiss with an ardor that easily matched her own. One hand tangled itself in her hair. As he pulled her closer, she began to feel as though she had once again drunk the water of the River Dyne, as though the whole world contained nothing but the two of them in this moment with infinity stretching out around them.
The others watched as the air above them began to waver from the heat. Krosp
nodded and gave Tarvek’s arm an impressed punch. “Wow. I wish she took my advice so readily.”
Tarvek looked down at the big white cat from the crumbling battlements of all his glorious, romantic plans, and a great weariness filled him. “Just shut up.” He indicated Gil. “He’s right. If the empire falls into chaos now, we’re all finished.”
Agatha and Gil broke apart, panting. They almost kissed again, but both raised their hands to each other’s faces at the same time and their fingers entwined.
“Okay,” Gil said.
“Right,” Agatha agreed.
“Gotta go.”
“I know.”
“Gotta . . . save the empire. And stuff.”
“I’ll just . . . you know . . . fix my castle . . . ” Agatha blinked. “Speaking of which, I’d better tell it not to kill you on the way out.”
Gil smiled. “I’d appreciate that.” He snapped his fingers. “Vole! Let’s go!” The tall Jäger, who had retrieved his hat, sighed and stepped out behind them.
Violetta walked beside Vole. “And here I was expecting you to attack them while they were kissing.”
Vole shook his head, one warrior to another. “Dun be schtupid. She vould rip my fangs out.”
As they walked away, Agatha tried to review what had just happened. That kiss and the feelings behind it. Had that been her? Or Lucrezia? She looked at Gil, tried to look at him analytically, and failed spectacularly. Then she caught a faint smirking echo: His father was better.
Her temper flared white hot. I will burn you out with fire, she vowed. The thing inside her head snickered and retreated.
Agatha realized Lucrezia was using her desires. That was how she was so good at manipulating people. I can’t allow myself to feel anything until this monster in my head is gone. She looked up and saw Gil and Tarvek arguing about something. The sight brought a rueful smile to her face. This was going to be difficult.
Soon enough they came to a part of the Castle that Agatha recognized. “Castle? Can you hear me in here?”
When it answered, it was obvious the great intelligence was distracted. “Ah. Yes, my Lady, I can hear you.”
“I need you to get Gilgamesh Wulfenbach and Captain Vole to the nearest outer gate as quickly as possible. And no killing them along the way, got it?”
“What? Oh, of course not,” it muttered. “Work now, play later.”
“And no maiming them either.” Agatha was starting to get a little worried. Usually, by this time, the Castle would be merrily implying it would utilize all sorts of creative workarounds to an order like that. “I want them completely unharmed, both mentally and physically. Do you understand?”
“Yes, yes, fine,” the Castle said testily. The floor opened beneath Gil and Vole and they silently dropped from sight. “Off they go.”
“What have you done?” Agatha screamed.
“What? Oh yes. This chute will take them directly to the Gate of Chimes.”
Agatha peered into the darkness of the pit and nodded slowly. “Oh. Well. Good then. Once they’re out of the building—”
“Once they are out they will serve as an excellent distraction, I’m sure.”
Agatha stared upwards, grabbed a convenient sledgehammer and hauled off before a particularly nice bit of wainscoting. “I told you . . . ”
“Not in the facing!” the Castle squealed. “What did I do? They are completely unharmed as you ordered! They are being escorted outside as you ordered! It’s not my fault that once they leave my protection, they will directly face all of your attackers. I thought that was your plan! I barely have enough strength to maintain the integrity of the inner keep!”
“Well, stop them! Don’t let them leave!”
“Erm,” the Castle sounded somewhat sheepish. “The Gate of Chimes is still one of my dead areas. I am sorry, my Lady, but I am running out of power. I have to use everything I have for defense. Soon I will not even be able to . . . oh bother,” it said wearily. “There goes the Tower of Green Bone.”
Agatha turned to the others with a fierce gleam in her eye. “This is it. We fix the Castle now or not at all.”
Another shudder shook the building as they dashed off. They piled back into the room and found the remaining great security clanks clustered around Theo and Sleipnir. Theo was grimacing as Sleipnir wound a bandage around his upper arm.
Agatha paused, and then joined them. “What happened?”
“That crazy Jäger shot him. He was aiming for Gil.”
Theo grit his teeth as Sleipnir tied the ends of the bandage around his bicep. “Glad to help,” he muttered.
Sleipnir looked around. “Where is Gil? Is he okay? He didn’t leave without us, did he?”
Agatha rolled her eyes. “I told the Castle to get him out quickly, but now he’s about to be dumped right into the middle of invading army. It isn’t safe out there.”
Another rumble shook the building and a small block smashed to the floor. Sleipnir glanced at Agatha. “Unlike in here.”
Agatha looked around. “I see you’ve fixed the final break. Maybe we can use these fun-sized death dispensers to catch up to him, and—”
Sleipnir raised a hand. “We didn’t fix any break.”
Agatha’s eyes swiveled over to the end of the room. Obligingly, the sheared conduit gave a gratuitous burst of sparks. Her gaze swiveled the other way and she found herself staring into the eyes of the great tiger clank upon whose nose her hand rested. “You didn’t?” She swallowed. “Then how—?”
The great machine gave a cough of laughter. “Their central control system remains damaged. They are somewhat weak and slow. They cannot hear your castle, but they do obey me.”
Understanding lit Agatha’s eyes. “Madame von Pinn?”
The great head nodded. “Otilia now, but yes.”
Agatha clapped her hands. “Excellent! Then Gil will be fine! Mobilize as many of these things as you can control! I’d like to see the army that can stand up to you!”
“We’ll have to hurry if we’re going to catch him,” Sleipnir said.
“That’s true!” Agatha thumped the side of the great tiger clank, which growled softly. “Okay. I’m going to get this right this time.” She cleared her throat. “Castle! I want to send these clanks to help Gil get back to Castle Wulfenbach safely. What is going to go wrong and how can I prevent it?”
“Ah. Mistress. Hello.” The Castle’s voice was vague and it spoke with long pauses in between words. “Um . . . well, until that break is repaired, the, ah, they will not function outside of my walls.”
“That’s all right.” Agatha said. “I’ll be staying here to fix the break. It shouldn’t take long. If Madame Otilia can catch Gil before he leaves, they’ll be all set.”
Otilia cut her off with a raised paw. “If you remain in the Castle, Lady Heterodyne, then I must also stay.” She growled.
“What? No! Gil needs you!”
Gears could be heard grinding within the great clank. “No, my duty, now that I have found you, is to stay beside you, the Heterodyne girl. That is my sacred trust!” Her voice reflected her inner turmoil. “To do otherwise would betray my king.”
Tarvek stepped forward. “Now that, at least, I can do something about!” He strode forward until he was nose-to-nose with the great clank. It towered above him.
“Otilia, Muse of Protection: I, the true heir to the Storm King, release you from your guardianship of the Heterodyne girl. You will assume your place at my side.”
Otilia’s head reared back in surprise. “You? The Storm King? Do not play games, child.”
“This is no game,” Tarvek said calmly. “I am Valois’s direct descendant. Supported by the Knights of Jove. Even Wulfenbach acknowledged it.”
Otilia’s eyes flickered and looked to Agatha. “Great heavens—did he really?”
Agatha looked at Tarvek with a growing respect. “He did, actually.”
Tarvek examined his nails. “In front of witnesses and everything.”
“At the moment, I am a vassal of the empire,” Tarvek explained patiently. “And the empire has long demonstrated the de facto power to legitimize regional governments that operate within its sphere of influence. This has been recognized and accepted by other independent governments within (such as Hofnung-Borzoi) and outside of its borders.”
The great mouth opened and closed several times. “But you have not been crowned . . . ”
Tarvek leaned in towards the tiger’s snout. “Do you want to save Wulfenbach or do you want to argue with me? I offer you purpose and a resolution of your logic conflicts.”
“I do, but . . . I . . . you . . . ”
“No, no,” Tarvek said icily. “Do take your time. Perhaps you no longer wish to be my Muse.”
The great head shuddered and then dipped in supplication. “Forgive me, sire.”
Tarvek gently laid a hand on the steam cat’s brow. “It is done.” He clapped his hands together in glee. “This will be great! I can’t wait to see Wulfenbach’s face—”
He was interrupted by a shove from behind as one of the vast metal paws gently eased him to the ground. Otilia’s voice was amused now. “You and young Master Wulfenbach. Such a troublesome pair. No. You will stay here, where you will be safe.”
Tarvek thrashed furiously. “No! I swear—I’ll come right back! Just as soon as Gil sees that I saved his bacon, okay?”
The paw pressed down. “No! I am the Muse of Protection! My king will not go haring off into a war unprepared!”
Tarvek opened his mouth, but Otilia overrode him: “That is the price of my acknowledgement.”
Tarvek bit his lip, then sighed in exasperation. “Very well.”
“The wisest path is often the most difficult,” she said archly.