Agatha H and the Voice of the Castle

by Kaja Foglio

  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.

  CHAPTER 7

  The smooth concrete walkways that wound through the Gardens of Mechanicsburg’s Great Hospital were designed for the comfort of perambulating patients. Tonight, instead of patients, they were thronged with Wulfenbach military forces—taking advantage of the superior view that the hospital’s elevated grounds afforded of the rest of Mechanicsburg.

  S
ome were camped around impromptu fires, brewing mugs of something or other—or having a smoke and a rest. Others were gathered around long tables borrowed from the hospital, studying maps and lists by the light of field lamps. But most of them were leaning against the ornate concrete balustrades that encircled the area, looking down upon the rest of the town.

  The hospital was constructed in an area of the town that is, by design, intended to shut down at night so that its patients can sleep in peace. The local businesses tend to be medical supply shops, hotels that cater to visiting families (who probably won’t much feel like painting the town red), pharmacies, and the better class of resurrectionist.

  That had all been overturned today. Every building in sight had been hung with the ornate, decorative trilobite lanterns that the townspeople haul out for festive occasions. Every courtyard and wide space in the road had been turned into an impromptu beer garden and dance hall.

  One of the old Heterodynes had decreed that every Mechanicsburg child must learn to play a musical instrument.57 The tradition has continued to this day, and the results filled the night with the distinctive Mechanicsburg stutter-step baseline that can be heard in the more bohemian cafes of Paris and Prague,58 blending together into an infectious wave of music that had the far off watchers absentmindedly tapping their toes.

  A tall, grey-haired Captain of the Medical Corps smiled as he saw a portly little man instructing a mixed set of the younger ranks in a complicated pattern dance he himself fondly remembered from his days as a young rake in Plovdiv. He riffled through his brain until the correct name surfaced.

  “Sergeant Scorp,” he called out. At once the aergeant turned about, fired off a crisp salute, and then winced slightly as he trotted over.

  The captain nodded, as he returned the salute. “How’s the arm, Sergeant?”

  “Good as new, sir.” Scorp then realized that he was still rubbing it and gave a wan smile. “Well, good enough for the Baron’s work, anyway. This hospital is a marvel, and no mistake.”