by Kaja Foglio
“We’re about to get shot,” the cat screamed. “Exactly how are we escaping?”
Gil looked up and saw the business end of two dozen rifles. “Stun rounds only,” the green behemoth shouted. “Or I will personally eat your ears!”
Gil’s face went blank. He’d been busy thinking about Agatha and Castle Heterodyne. Getting captured wasn’t the part of the plan…“Oh. Um…”
And then he disappeared.
Moloch von Zinzer leaned against the faux doorframe and idly watched the fireworks taking place overhead, munching away at some dried apples that he’d stowed in a pocket of his apron.
Suddenly, a brick sailed up out of the darkness and smacked into the doorsill at his feet, causing him to jump. More followed. Dozens, hundreds of them, flying through space and creating an intricate latticework structure that quickly resolved itself into a beautiful, ornate bridge that curved out of the darkness.
Moloch nodded to himself. He wasn’t surprised when, several moments later, Agatha came striding across the bridge. “So, you got the job, then?”
Agatha grinned. “Oh, yes.”
A glint of red caught Moloch’s eye and he saw that there was a deep cut on the back of Agatha’s hand.
“You’re bleeding! What happened?”
Agatha rolled her eyes as Moloch pulled a roll of bandages out of one of his pockets. “Let’s just say that somewhere in this place there’s a dial marked ‘high drama’ and it needs to be turned way down.”
Moloch nodded as he expertly wrapped her hand and tied the bandage off.48 “Probably next to the one marked ‘Crazy.’”
“I like to think I have a certain flair,” the Castle remarked.
Moloch only jumped a little, then snorted. He turned back to Agatha. “I’ll bet. So now you’re the queen and we’re not gonna die, right?” From his tone of voice, it was obvious he expected to be corrected.
The Castle obliged him. “Not quite.”
“It’s not that easy,” Agatha agreed. “The Castle’s intelligence is fragmented, remember? As of now, I’ll only be recognized as the Heterodyne in areas that are subordinate to this fragment. Anywhere else, we’ll still be in danger. I need to reconnect the whole system to get it working properly. For that, I need to know where the damage is, so I still have to get to the library for that map.”
Moloch pondered this. “I thought you just went to the library.” Agatha shrugged.
Moloch slumped, but didn’t look surprised. “Hmm…well, the part of the Castle that controls the library is the one that sent you here, right? So it won’t try to kill us…”
“Probably,” said the Castle. It sounded a bit pleased with itself.
“Good point,” said Moloch, thinking hard. “And this one knows you, now, so that’s two relatively safe places.”
Agatha brightened. “That’s true. And as I repair the fragmentation, we’ll gain more and more ground. We’ll have Pinky and her thugs out of here in no time! And when I’ve got the whole thing running, the Baron will have to talk to me. Maybe I can finally convince him that I’m not a threat.”
Moloch goggled at her. “Not a threat?” he asked incredulously. “Are you serious?”
“Well, of course. I don’t want any more trouble with him.”
“I don’t think he’s gonna believe that.” He glanced upwards. “I think he’s gonna be pretty mad, actually.”
“Mad? Mad about what?” She thought for a minute, and a nasty suspicion grew to a certainty. Agatha addressed the Castle. “What did you do?!”
Moloch was looking at the sky and Agatha followed his gaze.
In the Northern sky, Castle Wulfenbach was fighting for its life. Patches of the great airship were burning. Squads of firefighter dirigibles hovered nearby, pumping streams of water and carbon dioxide foam, even while they themselves were trying to fight off attackers. Hundreds of torchmen still swooped and darted throughout the fleet, wreaking havoc indiscriminately. The flares and explosions were reflected off of the growing cloud of smoke that filled the night sky.
Castle Wulfenbach was already moving off as quickly as possible, but speed had never been part of its design specifications.
“I only did what you told me to do,” the Castle responded, in a hurt tone of voice.
“You’re attacking Castle Wulfenbach?!” Agatha screamed. I did NOT tell you to do that!”
“Of course you did.”
The pain in her hand receded quickly as the great ivory jaws relaxed. “Welcome home, my lady,” the Castle said, a tone of deference and relief in its voice. “How may I serve you?”
Agatha spared a moment to look at the injury on her hand. Apparently the Castle had been able to examine her blood and from that had determined that she was a legitimate member of the family. Fascinating.
She looked up. “So—that’s it? I’m the Heterodyne now?”
“That appears to be so. Yes.”
“I guess I expected something a bit more…I don’t know…dramatic.” She paused as she realized what she was talking to. “Not that I’m complaining, mind.”
“Yes, well,” the Castle conceded, “ordinarily, when a new Heterodyne assumes control of the town, the Doom Bell rings, there’s a quaint little ceremony in the Red Cathedral, the populace parades about singing folk songs, and the princes of Europa offer you tribute and beg you not to plunder their lands.”
Agatha nodded. “Sounds nice, but I don’t think we have the time—”
The Castle interrupted. “But right now, I can’t even kill the usurper for you! I am broken! She isn’t even in an area where I can perceive her. Forgive me!”
“Uh—I don’t think you need to kill her.”
“YES I DO!”
Agatha sighed. “No, you don’t. Just keep her away from me. If she comes where you can get her, just try to contain her. Once you’re fully repaired, she won’t be much of a threat anyway. Seriously, I just wish I could chase her stupid pink airship out of here—
“Really?” the Castle interrupted eagerly. “I can do that. I can keep all your enemies out of Mechanicsburg airspace.”
Agatha nodded. “There you go! That would make me very happy!”
“It is an enemy airship in Mechanicsburg airspace. I am merely following your wishes,” the Castle continued.
Agatha realized that her mouth was hanging open and closed it with a snap. “I’m going to have to think carefully about everything I say to you, aren’t I?”
“It will be fun!”
“I’ll bet.” Agatha stared up at the fire in the sky and frowned. “All right then…Don’t kill anyone. Don’t do too much damage. But…do keep harassing them until they’re…hmm…ten kilometers outside of town.”
“I believe tradition calls for two leagues.”
“What’s that in kilometers?”
“Ah…Let me get back to you on that.”
“What are you doing?” Moloch asked, scandalized. “The Baron…”
“Has his flagship looming over my town.” Agatha stood straighter and a new note entered her voice. “In its heyday, Mechanicsburg was an unbelievably strong fortress. It was one of the reasons the Heterodynes answered to no one. The whole point of repairing the Castle is to reestablish that strength. Clearing the skies is as good a start as any.”
“You…” The Castle sounded surprised. “You’re not angry?”
Agatha’s eyes narrowed. “Did you want me to be?”
“No, Mistress, but…” and here the voice echoed hollowly, “your father and your uncle…nothing I did ever seemed to please them.”
A number of thoughts tumbled through Agatha’s head. First, there was a burst of sympathy for the Castle, a warped intelligence, certainly, but it had remained true, in its way. It was its masters that had changed, changed to the point where it could no longer please them, to the point where they had apparently abandoned it, and it couldn’t even understand why. There followed the worrying realization that she had already developed a strange fondn
ess for the thing. Apparently she was nowhere near as intolerant of evil as her father and uncle had reportedly been. She would have to watch that.
“No,” she said gently. “I am pleased. You did good.”
“Good.” The Castle considered this. “Ah…Perhaps you could phrase it…some other way?”
Yes, Agatha realized, patting a wall, this place was going to be a real “fixer-upper.”
_______________
42 Sun Ming Daiyu. MD, PhD. Granddaughter of Dr. Sun. Daughter of the Wulfenbach ambassador to the Court of China. She was raised with Gilgamesh aboard Castle Wulfenbach, where she met Agatha. While not a Spark herself at this time, she was one of those on the short list of people expected to break through at any time.
43 Experience showed that the two were closely interconnected.
44 The city of Paris is famous, amongst those who are interested in such things, for its elaborate sewer system. There are also an extensive series of catacombs, quite a number of hidden vaults, a few natural caverns, some subterranean rivers, a thriving ecosystem, and at least one hidden civilization, along with two known enclaves of thieves, one of which runs a famous black market and the other the smugglers’ railroad, all of which is ruled by the Shadow Court. Frankly, it’s a wonder that any people are left to wander the streets above ground.
45 Back when they called it “Mad Alchemy,” the creation of dragons was actually fairly popular. There were any number of towns and kingdoms that wanted them as protectors, or mascots, the most famous being the City of London. Inevitably, however, being long-lived, frugal creatures, they tended to amass hoards, which people tended to want to steal from them. Thus, most of the dragons were wiped out. The few remaining alchemists who could create them were annoyed at this and started creating dragons that were much, much harder to kill. But “harder” is not the same as “unkillable,” and after a dragon was finally killed, the knights went after the smart-ass alchemist that made it. And even a philosopher stone that granted immortality did not grant protection from a meter or so of Toledo steel. And thus the secret of making dragons was presumed lost. This is technically untrue, as apparently the real secret to viable, successful dragons was never found, which was: make them philanthropists.
46 A legitimate question. Before the Baron enforced the adoption of the metric system, local units of measurement were based on systems designed by such diverse sources as the Romans, Charlemagne, Moorish Spain, the Bible, Greek mathematics, how many steps it took a man to find enlightenment divided by his love of a good woman, and the size of assorted potentates’ feet. However everyone insisted on using the same names. Thus depending on where you were in Europa, a “foot” could be anything from fifteen centimeters to fifty, and it just got worse from there. Especially if you were a cobbler.
47 A notation that appeared all too often regarding new airmen. It also tended to close the ledgers on suicides, thieves, crooked gamblers, and practical jokers. It says something that when this verdict was eventually delivered to Duke Strinbeck’s next of kin, none thought to question it.
48 The status of minions is a tricky thing. It is calibrated, by those whose job it is to do so, using a complicated algorithm involving aspects of loyalty, coercion, and flammability. Experts agree that by being the first to spontaneously aid the new Heterodyne, Herr von Zinzer cemented his place as Agatha’s Chief Minion. No one has ever had the heart to tell him this.
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 s
aid. “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.