Agatha H. and the Clockwork Princess

CHAPTER 12

With a twist and a snap, Tarvek removed Anevka’s head from her body. Tenderly, he placed it in a small cabinet. “Sleep well, Anevka,” he whispered as he shut the cabinet door. He then pulled out various tools and reconnected the hoses that Lucrezia had sliced free. When the catafalque was reconnected, he pulled a small key from an inner pocket and unlocked a metal canister that had sat, unnoticed, upon one of the room’s shelves. The lid slid back into itself, and another clank head blinked in the light, and looked up at Tarvek with a grin.

This face was slightly different from Anevka’s. It was more expressive, and Tarvek knew that it would take some getting used to. He reached in and pulled the head out. “Hello, Lucrezia,” he said.

Privately, Tarvek had any number of reservations about this. He had been rather stunned when Lucrezia had explained that the Summoning Engine didn’t transport a personality from some distant location, it received a personality blueprint, as it were, and built a new copy onto an existing brain. Theoretically, any number of additional Lucrezias could be thus created.

Overlaying a new mind upon an established personality was quite difficult. Lucrezia had designed the device to imprint upon her young daughter, which went a long way towards explaining why all the other girls who had been collected by the Geisterdamen over the years, had failed to survive.

However, now that Lucrezia was here, she had demonstrated that it was the but work of mere minutes to recalibrate the device so that it would be able to download a new version of her personality into any girl at all.

Reconstructing a human mind onto a clank’s cognitive engine had seemed like an insurmountable challenge to Tarvek, but Lucrezia had breezily claimed that she had prior experience transferring organic intellects to mechanical systems and visa versa. This disquieting claim was only made more so when she had demonstrated how easy it was for her to do, once Tarvek had constructed a new, untuned clank head.

The implications of this, and the realization that she had obviously already performed these experiments, had given Tarvek serious nightmares the few times he had managed to grab some desperately needed sleep.

The head in his hand smiled. “Tarvek, dear boy! I was beginning to think something had gone wrong.”

“Sorry. Perhaps I should have put a clock in with you. You know, like a puppy.”

“Father raised Sparkhunds[70].” Lucrezia replied conversationally. “They tended to eat clocks. We lost Auntie Skullchula’s favorite grandfather clock that way.”

Tarvek changed the subject. “This face is far more expressive than the last clank face. Some of my best work, really.”

“Not too much better, I trust,” Lucrezia said with a frown. “We don’t want people to notice.”

Tarvek smiled reassuringly. “You change your wigs, why not your face?” A thought occurred to him. “Actually, you could tell the townspeople this is how your face always was, and that’s what they’d tell anyone who asked.”

Lucrezia laughed in delight. “Oh, this will be easy! Now where is my sister?”

Tarvek tucked the head under his arm and threaded his way through the sprawled bodies on the floor. “She’s knocked out, but she’ll be fine.”

Lucrezia’s eyes darted about trying to see everything. Tarvek paused, and slowly spun about, letting her see the entire room. “Heavens,” she remarked. “I seem to have missed quite the party.”

They arrived at the frozen clank, and Tarvek quickly slotted the head onto the neck. “Nonsense,” he said, as he grabbed the head and gave it a final twist, snapping it into place. “The real party is just about to start!”

The reintegrated Lucrezia clank gave a shudder, and she stepped forward. She raised her hands, patted her head, and gingerly rotated it about. “That felt most peculiar,” she declared.

Tarvek turned away to get her wig. “Does everything work? Fingers? Toes?”

A sharp pinch upon his fundament caused him to whoop and leap upwards in surprise. When he spun about, Lucrezia regarded him innocently.

“I appear to have delicate motor control,” she reported, while waggling her fingers.

“That almost makes up for your lack of overall control,” he retorted.

Lucrezia stepped forward to retrieve the wig that had fallen to the ground and found herself pulled up short by the hoses connecting her to the catafalque.

She turned back to Tarvek. “Do I actually need this thing? It’s most inconvenient.”

Tarvek swallowed the lump in his throat. “No,” He said huskily, “No you don’t. But too many people outside of Sturmhalten know about it. In my opinion, we should keep it around until things die down, then we can come up with some story.”

Lucrezia nodded slowly. “Yes, too many astonishing things at once would look suspicious.” She looked over at the bearers stretched out upon the floor.

“That one doesn’t look at all well.”

“He’s dead.”

“Oh, yes, that would do it.”

“A little surprise from your sister, when my sister proved a bit recalcitrant.”

Lucrezia examined the wound and nodded. “Well, I do so love surprises.”

Tarvek jerked a thumb over to the door. “There’s a group of townspeople waiting outside. You can choose one of them to replace him. But we’d best get moving, they won’t wait forever.”

Lucrezia placed the wig on her head and delicately tucked it into place. “They will if I tell them to,” she muttered. She turned about and allowed Tarvek to buckle the coat on around her hoses. “But you’re right of course. The Baron’s man won’t.”

She turned a delivered nudge with her foot to the back of the Lucrezia’s head. “Wake up this instant, you lazy girl!”

Lucrezia’s eyes blinked open and she dragged herself to a sitting position. Tarvek graciously helped her to her feet. She wobbled a bit, and then saw the clank examining her. “Lucrezia?”

The clank leaned in. “Lucrezia?” The two then blinked their eyes at each other in a swift pattern that Tarvek failed to follow.

A mutual recognition code, he realized. Lucrezia had planned ahead.

Lucrezia/Agatha clapped her hands in delight. “It worked!”

The mechanical Lucrezia nodded. “Of course!”

The two then hugged each other and gave a squeal of pure delight. “We’re going to win!” They sang out.

“Mistress?” All three of them turned to see a shaken Vrin staring at the two women in astonishment.

Lucrezia/Agatha sighed. “Yes, Vrin. Oh, do close your mouth dear, it’s unbecoming. I did try to explain this to you. Both of us are your mistress, now. You are to obey us both. Do you understand?”

With more assurance than she obviously felt, Vrin nodded once.

Lucrezia/Agatha continued. “Now, Vrin, Prince Tarvek, you, and the rest of your sisters will leave with me through the tunnels. As far as the rest of Europa is concerned, we were never here. We will catch up to the others, establish a new base, reassemble my machines, and get to work.”

Mechanical Lucrezia continued. “I shall stay here. Everyone will think me the Princess Anevka, who has just rescued the town and driven off my traitorous, homicidal brother.” She patted Tarvek upon the cheek. “Such a shame he got away after losing the fight with my attendants, especially poor, valiant—” She gestured towards the dead man, and then turned to Tarvek. “What was his name?”

Tarvek blinked. “I have no idea.”

“—Augustine,” Mechanical Lucrezia decided. “His name was Augustine.”

“We had a dear pussy cat named Augustine,” Lucrezia/Agatha confided to Tarvek. “He also had to die. It was very sad.”

Mechanical Lucrezia put the back of her hand to her head with a soft clong. “When brave Augustine impaled himself upon my wicked brother’s sword, why, I almost wept because I was unable to weep for him.” She paused, and turned to Lucrezia/Agatha. “I think that last part needs some work.”

Lucrezia/Agatha patted her on the head. “Oh, you’ll be magnificent, darling. Klaus’ man will swallow it whole, leaving Tarvek and me to work on the Hive Engines in peace.”

Vrin and Tarvek started waking up the rest of the slumbering Geisterdamen. As they waited, Mechanical Lucrezia pouted. “Oh, I do wish I could work on that adorable little engine that’s supposed to infect Sparks. That has so much potential.”

“Now, now. We need you here being a good girl so you’ll be able to actually use them when the time comes.”

“Tedious, but necessary,” Mechanical Lucrezia conceded. She leaned in and dropped her voice. “But it’s so unfair, you’ll also get to console poor Tarvek over the loss of his castle.”

Lucrezia/Agatha gave a shiver of anticipation. “Mmm, yes, that will be fun. He still thinks he’s going to learn all our secrets and rescue our daughter, you know.”

Mechanical Lucrezia stifled a laugh. “Such a romantic. Those are so much fun to break.”

Lucrezia/Agatha licked her lips. “I know. At some point I will have to let him think he’s got her back.” She fluttered her eyes. “She’ll be ever so grateful, of course.”

Mechanical Lucrezia slapped her on the arm. “You wicked, wicked girl!” and the two of them giggled. Tarvek heard them laughing. He didn’t know why, but a shudder ran down his spine.

Several minutes later, all of the pale women were awake. Tarvek twisted a finial, and a door appeared in what had seemed to be a solid wall. The Geisterdamen trotted through to scout on ahead.

Mechanical Lucrezia waved them farewell. “This is where we must part company, dear. I really must awaken my attendants and tell them what ‘really’ happened before I let anyone else in, and that will be ever so much simpler when you’re gone.”

Lucrezia/Agatha nodded. “Of course. I’ll contact you in a few months, when all the fuss has died down.” The two hugged, and then Lucrezia/Agatha shooed Vrin into the passage and swung the wall shut.

That done, she went in search of Tarvek. She found him in a small bolt-hole room. It had been stocked with food, bottles of water, and a large armoire, from which the prince was selecting a new outfit. She leaned against the doorframe and watched him as he dithered about selecting a shirt. The prince should be an easy conquest, when she got around to it.

She ran a connoisseur’s eye over the prince’s naked torso and snapped out of her reverie. Now that she was paying attention, she saw the muscles that moved on Tarvek’s back, as well as the ones on his arms. These were the result of determined exercise, and their patterns were similar to those she had seen on the myriad of fighting men she had leisurely examined as they slumbered beside her.

She felt a new layer of interest awakening within her. Prince Tarvek played the fop remarkably well, but his flesh unwittingly revealed a core of will and determination that he tried to keep hidden. He might be a more challenging conquest than she had assumed...

She cleared her throat. “Tarvek, it’s time to go. We can play dress-up when we arrive.”

There. A swift smirk flashed across his lips, which she never would have noticed if she hadn’t known to look for it. And now, as he faced her, his face was a textbook combination of embarrassment and annoyance. Lucrezia shivered with pleasure. He acted the fop, and was dangerously good at it, but she was better. That made it the perfect game. “Surely you don’t need much?”

Tarvek nodded and pulled a shirt off the shelf. She now suspected that he had selected it before he had opened the door. “True. The Geisterdamen carry everything important, and I do plan on coming back—” He paused.

“But?” Lucrezia asked.

Tarvek slumped, and selected a pair of boots. “But I don’t really know when I’ll be able to come back. This is my home, you know. My family’s responsibility. It’s surprisingly difficult leaving all this behind. Not knowing when or if I’ll return.” He pulled the boots on. “You ever get like that?”

If Tarvek had actually been looking at Lucrezia’s face, he would have had much to think about, as upon hearing his innocent question, her face had involuntarily reflected a bleak terror that almost drove her to her knees. With a herculean effort of will, she gracefully clutched the doorframe and kept herself upright. She took a deep breath. “You have no idea.” Her voice was odd enough that it caused Tarvek to glance at her, but all he saw was a rueful smile.

He waited for her to say more, but when she did not, he shrugged and began the process of selecting a coat. Lucrezia rolled her eyes. This façade could get tedious.

She was saved from ennui by Vrin appearing at her elbow. “Mistress. The Baron is here!” Unbidden, she took Lucrezia’s elbow, and pulled her over to a hidden window that looked out upon the courtyard. There was a crowd of townspeople there.

“His Questor, you mean? Well it’s about time.” She looked out, but everyone was staring upwards.

“What’s happening? I don’t see anyone—”

Shadows spread across the courtyard. The crowd began to seethe. Tarvek slammed himself hard against the dusty glass and craned his neck sideways to stare upwards. “Oh no,” he whispered.

The sky above was filling with airships. Even as he watched, more of them dropped into sight from the clouds overhead, falling towards the town. As they began to slow, they seemed to fray about the bottom edges. This visual confusion was resolved when the dots bursting free from the airships got closer and were seen to be even smaller airships. These quickly spread out over the entire town while continuing to drop. There were dozens of them.

“Have my priestesses gone blind?” Lucrezia screamed. She turned to Tarvek, “Or even your sentries! How could they have not seen them coming?”

“They weren’t there a minute ago,” Vrin declared.

“There’s always a bit of high altitude cloud cover that forms over the mountain at this time of the day. They must have known that.” Tarvek muttered. “They could drift in with it, and then drop fast.”

Lucrezia looked at him in amazement. “What—All of them? Flying in close formation? Within the clouds? That’s extremely dangerous! Why would they do that?”

Tarvek looked at her and his face was grim. “It’s part of the standard procedure for quarantining a Slaver-infected town! That’s no Questor—that’s the Baron himself up there and he’s brought an army! He knows!”

Meanwhile, on a low rooftop, a grate was pushed upwards, and Krosp poked his head out. “It’s clear!” he announced, and then he was pushed upwards by the flood of the others.

For several minutes, all they did was breath deeply, savoring the clean air.

As they were doing so, the Professor braced himself for the inevitable grilling. He was not disappointed.

“Zo!” Ognian gently punched him in the arm, “Hy gots any great-great-great grand cheeldrens yet[71]?”

The Professor sighed. “No.”

The Jager frowned. “Hmf. Married?”

“No.”

“Got’s a gurl?”

“No.”

Ognian gnawed on his lower lip. “Vants a gurl?”

“Yes.”

Ognian’s eyes narrowed. “Iz hyu steel on der road? Iz hyu steel lookink for dot ‘perfect story’?” He snorted. “Get a job!”

The Professor snarled back. “Still looking for a Heterodyne, old man? Get a life!”

The Jäger bared his teeth. “Hyu vait und see, hyu young punk! Hy vill!”

The Professor rolled his eyes. “Shyeah. Fine. I’ll get married, when you find a Heterodyne.”

Ognian stood there with his mouth open. Then he gave the most alarming grin his hapless descendant had ever seen. “...Really?”

At that moment shouts and screams from the courtyards below caught everyone’s attention.

It was Krosp who glanced upwards. The sight of the approaching armada caused the fur to stand out from his body. He whirled and called out, “We have to find Agatha!”

Another watcher sat upon another castle roof and stared at the skies. It sat silently, except for a faint ticking. Its single eye slowly and methodically swept back and forth. An airship swam into view. The eye paused, and focused with a small whine. The emblem upon the side, the winged rook, sigil of the House of Wulfenbach was examined, and matched against an image stored within. The small clank leapt to its feet and began to chime.

The sharp, clear tones were far louder than one would expect from a mechanism of this size, carrying far across the castle rooftops. After a minute, it paused. There was no response. The little clank looked upwards at a square keep that loomed in the center of the castle, but it saw no activity. It chimed again, astonishingly, even louder. Again, there was no response.

The device tapped its miniscule foot impatiently, and then scuttled forward. It slid under the nearest door, and found itself upon a staircase that wound upwards and downwards from where it stood. Unhesitating, it leapt up the nearest riser and began the laborious climb.

After several stories, it saw a window, the sill occupied by a lounging cat. The cat saw the small movement and instantly focused its attention on the device. It stared in fascination as the device approached, its muscles tensing, when the clank snatched the fluttering tail and gave it a quick bend.

The cat instantly rocketed off, the backwash of its departure sending the small mechanism skittering across the floor.

Grimly, it picked itself up and hauled itself onto the windowsill. It looked down upon the roof of the keep. To its obvious distress, the roof was empty. It was at a loss as to how to proceed, when it heard several people approaching while arguing. One of them was the man it was supposed to avoid. The other was the Mistress! But she had said to avoid her as well, until this task had been completed. But if the task was impossible to complete, surely it would be acceptable to report this?

The programming conflict swirled about its miniscule mind, as it ducked behind a drape and listened.

“But what does he know?” The Mistress asked.

“Stop asking me that! I don’t know! I do know that this changes everything! He’ll tear this place apart! He’ll find my secret labs! The tunnels!”

“That thing my daughter was building! Do we need to deactivate it?”

“Don’t worry about that. She wanted it moved up to the roof. It’s still in my lab. It’s harmless.”

“But what does he know?”

The voices faded as the small group moved off. The small clank peeked from behind the drape and seeing no one, leapt to the ground. Tarvek’s lab then.

“I’ll bet ten.”

“Double.”

“Three muses.”

“Four sparks.”

“Damnation!”

“Pay up.”

Master Payne leaned back in his chair and reached inside his waistcoat. A look of surprise slid across his features as his hand felt around inside an obviously empty pocket. “My purse is gone.”

Opposite him, a hard-bitten Captain of the Prince’s Guard lowered his brows and deliberately removed his cigar from his mouth. A severe look came into his eye.

“Are you telling me...” he paused, “Sir—That you cannot pay your gambling debt?”

Payne looked at him owlishly for a frozen moment, and then chuckled appreciatively. “Nasty touch.”

The Captain grinned and took a sip from the drink beside his elbow and smacked his lips. “Aye, we get a passel of new recruits with that one.”

Payne picked up the cards and examined them with professional interest. “Always said you can learn more about cheating from an old soldier...”

The Captain blew a plume of smoke. “Well, we get shot if we’re caught,” he said philosophically. “That sharpens the mind right quick.” He saw Payne counting the cards, grinned, and pulled one out from his cuff. “Must say, I thought you’d do better than just stuffin’ muses up your sleeve.”

Payne paused slightly and a small expression of embarrassment flitted through his beard.

“Sir!” He said with offended gravitas, “You wrong me! I am but a simple entertainer. But wait—” His hand came up from underneath the table clutching a battered military wallet. “What is this, tucked into this wallet that you have so obviously dropped?”

The soldier’s drink slammed onto the table and he frantically patted himself down in vain. “You devil! When did you—”

Payne ignored him and studied the documents he’d extracted from the wallet. “Oooh, a love letter from your commander’s wife! Mighty spicy, I must say, sir! And this—my goodness! It’s a layout of Sturmhalten’s defenses! And look at this! It seems that somebody’s been selling off army stores to the black market!” He tutted disapprovingly.

His last comment had caused the old soldier’s face to go white. “That’s a hanging offense! I’d never—!”

He saw Payne’s slow grin and caught himself in mid-babble. The two men assessed each other for a moment, and then the soldier raised his glass and saluted the caravan master with a grin. “T’cha! That’s another one to you, you damn thimble rigger.”

Payne was reaching for the cards, when the door to the wagon opened. Abner stuck his head in.

“Master Payne. Sorry to interrupt, sir, but it’s dawn, and we have a visitor.”

He was then pushed aside by a tall, determined looking man in a leather and fleece flying jacket. His hair was tousled and his face was coated with a layer of oil and dirt, except for two pale rings around his eyes, which had been shielded by the aviator goggles hanging around his neck.

“Good morning, sir.” His accent marked him as English, and upper class English at that. “I’m looking for a girl.”

While this was not at all what Payne had expected him to say, it was not entirely unprecedented. Many traveling shows were popular not because of the quality of their acts, but because of the quality of their actresses[72].

While Master Payne and the Countess turned a blind eye to the occasional sporting liaison various members of their troupe engaged in, they discouraged commercial prostitution per se, if only because the Baron taxed and licensed it, and mandated periodic medical exams for the entire caravan. This was a level of scrutiny they felt was best avoided.

“This is a respectable show, sir,” Payne rumbled. “The girls here are not for sale.”

The Captain leaned back and shrugged. “Astonishing, but true, sir! Me and the lads have tried.” He brought his chair down with a thump and he looked serious. “Now, sir, might I ask your business in Balan’s Gap?”

Wooster rubbed his eyes. “I don’t have time for this. There have been too many delays as it is.”

He leaned on the table and addressed Master Payne. “I think you will know the girl I mean. Agatha Clay.” Both Payne and Abner blinked at this, but gave no other indication. “You tricked the Baron into thinking she was dead.”

Surreptitiously, Abner began sliding a leather cosh out from behind his belt.

Wooster continued. “But he’s not fooled any more. He’s coming for her.” He tapped the table. “Here. Soon. I’ve been charged with getting her to safety. Where is she?”

The Captain blew out another plume of smoke. “And what does the Baron want with some girl?”

Wooster paused and then nodded. “Her real name is Agatha Heterodyne. She is the long lost daughter of Bill and Lucrezia. Raised in secret by the constructs Punch and Judy.” They all stared at him in stunned silence. “At the very least you must have noticed that she’s a strong Spark.”

At this the Captain burst out with a guffaw that almost dislodged his hat. “A lost Heterodyne heir? You came to these people for a—” Again he laughed. Not noticing that in this, he was alone. “You daft fool! These people are actors! They do Heterodyne stories! They play Sparks! And you thought—”

Whatever he was about to say was cut off by the Countess appearing at the doorway, breathing hard. “Payne! Get out here! The Baron is invading! His airships just appeared out of nowhere! They’re sealing the town!”

“What!” Instantly the old soldier was all business. He glared at Wooster. “You mean to tell me this fairy story is—”

With an elegant move that brought a look of approval from Wooster, Payne and the Countess, Abner leaned over and smacked the back of the soldier’s head, sending him senseless to the floor.

Payne looked at Wooster. “Prince Sturmvarous took her. She’s not here.”

Ardsley frowned. In the town? In the castle? In the middle of an infestation sweep? This was going to be a tricky one.

A spinning metal disk bounced down a winding set of stone stairs, finally impacting upon the wall at the bottom before clattering to the ground. For several seconds, nothing happened, and then a small set of arms and legs unfolded from the main disk. With a snap, the small clank leapt to its feet, and then staggered slightly before its balancing mechanisms finally reset themselves.

It then set off at a run, dashing down several corridors and passing through a small courtyard, which was filled with anxious people staring upwards at the looming airships.

Up another set of stairs. Finally, it reached the door of Tarvek’s laboratory. Executing a perfect third-base slide, it slid under the door. When it stood, it was confronted by a pile of deactivated clanks scattered about the room. Even more distressing was the Mistress’ machine, standing in the middle of the room.

Frantically, the small clank spent almost a minute trying to move the heavy device by itself before it conceded the futility of trying.

There was nothing else to do. With the mechanical equivalent of a shrug, it reached up and activated the machine. Then it ran away. Very fast.

“Captain! Explosion in Sturmhalten Castle!”

Bangladesh was on her feet instantly. “Are they shooting at us?”

One of the other spotters lowered his scope. “No, Captain,” he reported. “It appears that something actually exploded within the south tower keep of Sturmhalten Castle itself. A lot of the roof is gone.”

The rest of the bridge crew continued to work, but Bangladesh knew they were waiting to see what she would do.

She frowned. No signals had come in from the other ships, and Klaus certainly hadn’t ordered any of them to begin shelling. She scribbled a quick note and passed it to a messenger. “Get this to the Baron. He’ll be with the marines.”

The messenger hopped aboard his unicycle and sped off down the corridor. If the Baron wanted to—

“MISSLES!” screamed the spotter.

“Evasive action!” Bangladesh ordered even as she grabbed her own telescope and stared at the castle. The airship hove to one side, and began to rise.

“Belay that!” Bangladesh yelled. There were indeed missiles pouring from the ruined tower. Dozens of them. But they were travelling straight up for several hundred meters, and then detonating harmlessly.

The spotter confirmed this. “It... they look like... fireworks, Captain. It’s too high for shrapnel. All it’s producing is smoke.”

There certainly was a lot of that. Before long it hung in a tall white pillar over the castle. He turned towards the Captain. “Maybe they’re just happy we’re here.”

That snapped Bangladesh out of her momentary confusion. If there was one thing she was positive of, it was that no one was ever happy to see her. “It’s some kind of Spark nonsense,” she declared. “All hands, keep a weather eye out for anything unusual!”

In a small courtyard, Tarvek, Lucrezia and Vrin picked themselves up from the ground where they’d been thrown by the explosion. A few bits of rubble hit the ground around them. Tarvek stared upward in horror. “My castle!”

“Wasn’t that your laboratory up on that top floor?” Vrin asked innocently.

“My lab!”

Missiles began shooting upward. Tarvek looked at Lucrezia, and his face went pale. “Uh-oh,” he muttered.

“Tarvek!” Lucrezia grabbed him by the shirt and shook him until several buttons flew free. “The ‘useless machine’ that fool of a daughter of mine was building—What does it DO?”

Within the shattered room at the top of the tower, the last missile fired. From within the machine, a hidden array of lenses rotated into place and speaker vents opened. Lights flared.

Above Sturmhalten there was a sudden glow, a swell of unearthly music and there stood Agatha. She was easily recognized by those who knew her, and was clad in the revealing festival outfit Tarvek had supplied. This would have drawn every eye towards her under any circumstance. At the moment, however, it was but a minor detail, as she was easily fifty meters tall, glowing, and slightly translucent.

The figure moved, and opened its mouth. “I am Agatha Heterodyne.” The boom of sound blew out most of the remaining windows within the castle, and caused the stonework itself to vibrate.

“Daughter of Bill Heterodyne and Lucrezia Mongfish.” There was a small hiss of static, and the figure jumped before continuing. “I have discovered that Baron Wulfenbach was—is The Other. Tell Everyone. I can’ fight h—” More static, which increased as the message progressed. “—off much longer.”

Static again. “—Servants have captured me. Done something to me.” Zzzt. “—The castle at Sturmhalten. Prince Tarvek is helping me. Someone needs to stop—Hzzzkpop—Baron Wulfenbach. Bzrt—is taking over. Kzzrrt—Please. I need help.”

The figure looked out, pleadingly, and then vibrated slightly, and the message began to repeat. “I am Agatha Heterodyne.”

And everyone saw it.

On the town’s caravan grounds, the circus members stared upwards in amazement.

“Sweet lightning,” Abner whispered.

“Unbelievable,” Payne breathed.

Wooster rubbed his head.

“Is going be devil tricky to pull off on stage,” Otto muttered.

“What in the world is she wearing?” The Countess declared, scandalized.

The others stared at her. “Oh don’t look at me like that,” she said crossly, “You were all thinking it.”

Payne clapped his hands and broke the spell. “Get everyone moving,” he roared. “We’re leaving! Now!”

Wooster watched the circus members scatter. “Aren’t you being guarded and detained by the Prince’s troops?” he asked.

“Nothing we can’t handle,” the Countess said as she reached into the nearest wagon and pulled out a large cast-iron fry pan.

“That’s interesting.”

“Oh yes.” Marie turned and regarded the British agent closely. “And now, I want you to convince me you’re not out to hurt Agatha.”

Ardsley regarded her with a supercilious smile. “...Or you hit me with a frying pan?”

On a rooftop, the group of people who had ostensibly snuck into Sturmhalten to rescue Agatha, stared up at her image.

“She’s a Heterodyne?” Lars asked in astonishment. Everyone else nodded.

“Glad you could join us, Lars,” Krosp remarked.

Lars looked at them in bewilderment. “You all knew this?”

“The grown-ups knew,” said Krosp.

“I just figured it out,” Zeetha said defensively.

Lars stared upwards. “We have to help her!”

“Isn’t that what we’re already doing?” asked Kalikoff.

“Is there anything else I should know?” Lars demanded.

Maxim looked down. “I haff never luffed,” he whispered.

Everyone looked at him in silence.

Krosp cleared his throat. “We really should get off of this roof.”

As they headed for the door, Ognian glanced at the spot where the Professor had been, and gleefully nudged Dimo. “Hy em goink to be a great-great-great grandpapa,” he chuckled.

Dimo rolled his eyes. He knit decorative socks, but he didn’t go around bragging about it.

Somewhere below them, Tarvek was again picking himself up off the ground. The initial soundwaves were so powerful that they had knocked them all down. He stared up at the endlessly repeating apparition in horror. “That wasn’t supposed to go off now!”

“You’re responsible for that?” Vrin screamed next to his ear.

Tarvek looked at her. “What?”

Vrin stared back at him. “What?”

“I can’t hear you,” Tarvek yelled back. “This damned music is too—” He did a double-take. The music? He whipped around, and indeed, there was Agatha, fleeing from the two of them as fast as she could.

Tarvek grabbed Vrin’s shoulder and dragged her along. “The music!” He yelled. “It’s freed her from the Lady’s control!” Vrin nodded in understanding and raced along beside him.

Agatha frantically looked for an exit. She realized, however, that as this was supposed to be a hidden courtyard, it probably didn’t have any easily identifiable entrances. She lunged around a likely looking corner and found herself in a dead end, used to store various shovels and brooms.

Tarvek appeared around the corner and stopped. He held out a placating hand. “Agatha! You’ve got to trust me!”

Agatha found herself pressed back against the cool stone of the wall. Her fingers frantically felt along the wall behind her, futilely looking for some sort of mechanism. “Don’t be insulting. You’re using me as much as... as she is!”

Tarvek looked at her steadily as he inched closer. He dropped his voice. “Can’t you see I’m trying to get us both out of here alive?”

Vrin stepped out from around the corner and laughed. “I’m afraid that’s not going to happen. Even if the copy within the clank Anevka is destroyed, my sisters have safely removed the Summoning Engine. Thus, I received permission to kill you both, if it became necessary.” She jauntily flipped her sword into the air where it spun several times before she effortlessly caught it. “I was so worried it wouldn’t become necessary.”

Her blade lazily flicked out. Tarvek had already been moving to grab a broom, and thus didn’t dodge in time to prevent the Geister’s blade from slicing across his chest.

He slammed backwards against the wall. A line of bright red welled up under his hand and began to ooze down his chest. “That really hurts,” he gasped.

Vrin ignored him and facing Agatha, she smiled, and extended a friendly hand. “Now, girl—I don’t have to kill you. You can still be useful. Come with me and I will kill this pig.” Her sword flicked out, easily avoiding the broom handle Tarvek held defensively, and carving a slice across Tarvek’s arm. “—Or spare him, if that’s what you wish.”

The new wound seemed to focus Tarvek’s shocked senses. He stood straighter, and the broom, while still pathetic, was held with more authority. “No!” Tarvek interjected. “Agatha, just run!” He leapt towards Vrin. “You don’t want to be trapped with them if I’m not there!”

With a satisfied smirk, Vrin batted away the broom handle, knocking it from Tarvek’s hands. “Wonderful! I do get to kill you!”

She stabbed Tarvek in the arm. Holding him fast. Tarvek turned to Agatha. “Go! I tried to get you out! Don’t—AAGH!” He screamed as Vrin twisted her sword free.

“Oh I do wish I had the time to do this slowly.” The Geisterdamen spun about and slammed Tarvek’s jaw with her foot, sending the wounded man crashing against a wall. He slid to the ground. “But I’m in a bit of a hurry.”

Tarvek made a supreme effort, and managed to roll over onto his back. Vrin placed her sword at his throat. “But before you die, I want you to admit that your machinations have failed. You thought you could betray my Lady! Use her for your own petty ambitions! Admit your defeat.”

“Absolutely,” Tarvek mumbled. “You’re right. I failed, okay?”

Vrin glared at him. “You take all the honor out of everything!” she screamed as she raised her blade—

“VRIN, STOP!” Agatha yelled.

Vrin froze, and staggered back. “Your voice! You’re not the Lady! I won’t—”

The broom handle hit her on the forehead with such force that it drove the Geisterdamen to her knees.

“No. I’m not your Lady,” Agatha agreed, “But it’s hard to resist my voice, isn’t it? NOW PUT DOWN YOUR SWORD!”

Involuntarily, Vrin’s hand flew open and the sword clattered to the ground. Instantly, she snatched it up again. “You filthy changeling,” she snarled. “That won’t work on me! I’ll kill you both no matter what you say—”

“VRIN, STOP!”

This time the handle smashed into Vrin’s jaw, snapping her head to the side. Vrin fell over.

“Maybe it won’t work on you. Not completely. After all, you know I’m not really her. But there’s a part of you that doesn’t know that. And that’s the part that slows you down. So just give up, okay?”

“How dare you?” Vrin screamed in rage as she rolled to her feet. “I can control my own mind! You will die!”

“VRIN, KNEEL!”

The unexpected command froze the Geister as she was in mid-leap. As she teetered for a second, the broom handle hit her clean upside the head with the full force of the over-the-shoulder sweep that Agatha gave it, throwing Vrin back hard enough to lift her off the ground and drive her head into the stone wall. The Geisterdamen bounced back from the wall and collapsed in a heap.

Agatha stood ready, panting, but the woman warrior didn’t even twitch.

“Give her another one for me,” Tarvek said through clenched teeth. Agatha turned to him and sucked in a breath between her teeth. Sprawled against the wall, Tarvek was covered in blood.

“I should give you a smack of my own,” Agatha said, shaking her broom, but Tarvek could see that her heart wasn’t in it.

“Please don’t,” he said, in case he was wrong, “Bleeding heavily here.”

A bemused voice from above sighed. “Ah, well, I suppose we should do something about that.”

The two of them looked up. Staring down at them was a group of Wulfenbach soldiers, two of them clad in long, green cloaks with, Agatha realized with a start, Slaver Wasp skulls atop their heads. They were flanked by a pair of the tall brass trooper clanks, whose machine cannons never wavered from them.

The speaker was a short, plump, elderly soldier, with a meticulously cut, snowy white beard, who was casually sitting, his feet dangling over the edge.

“They say you can judge a person by their enemies.” He pointed his pistol towards the still comatose Vrin. “So you two are lookin’ pretty good right now. But I’m sure you could change my mind by doin’ somethin’ stupid.”

Agatha dropped her broom with a clatter. The soldier smiled. “That’s a good start, Fraulein. I’m Sergeant Scorp, First Vespiary Squad. Second Division. Second Army of East Transylvania.”

One of the cloaked soldiers leaned in. “Sergeant, I believe that’s the Heterodyne girl!”

The Sergeant’s eyes flicked up towards the giant figure who’s words were still booming out through the town. He then looked back to Agatha. “Really? She looks shorter.”

“What? But of course she’s—”

“—Jokin,’” the Sergeant said gently.

The cloaked soldier looked at his superior for a moment and then nodded uncertainly. “Ah. Humor. Yes?”

Scorp rolled his eyes and sighed. “Yes, Dmitri, humor. Go check ’em out.”

“Yessir!” Without another word, the two cloaked soldiers leapt the four meters to the ground, effortlessly landed on their feet, and approached the three. From large, wicker baskets at their sides, they produced bizarre, six-legged creatures, which they held up to each of them in turn.

Agatha—“Clean.”

Tarvek—“Clean.”

Vrin—The weasels shrieked and thrashed about in their handler’s hands. “Revenant.”

Scorp pushed the brim of his hat back and considered this. “Mighty interestin’,” he declared. “Is that young fella ready to move out?”

The medic wrapping Tarvek’s chest frowned. “He won’t like it.”

Scorp chuckled. “Trick question, son. He ain’t really got a choice.”

Agatha stepped up. “We need to see Baron Wulfenbach as quickly as possible.”

The Sergeant nodded. “Oh, you will. Though he might not appreciate you accusin’ him of bein’ The Other and all.”

Agatha’s eyes bugged from their sockets. “What? That’s not what I said!”

One of the Sergeant’s eyebrows arced and he jerked a thumb upwards. “Oh, really? Ain’t you been listenin’?”

For the first time, Agatha actually absorbed the words booming out from the colossus above them. “—Zzzk—Baron Wulfenbach was...is The Other—”

“Tarvek—” she began.

“Thought you said that boy shouldn’t move,” Scorp said.

“I didn’t think he could!” the corpsman said in amazement.

“Live and learn,” Scorp said cheerfully as he aimed his pistol.

A few minutes later, the squad was again on the move. The medic strode along, wiping his hands on a rag. “Did you have to shoot him in the leg?”

Scorp shrugged. “Figure I did him a favor. Iffin’ she’d got to him first—”

In the arms of one of the large brass clanks, Tarvek writhed in agony. Partly from the pain in his leg.

“It’s your own fault,” a furious Agatha informed him for the twenty-eighth time, “And better than you deserve! Why did you alter my message?”

The effort of keeping his stories straight caused the sweat to pour from Tarvek’s brow. “I didn’t do it! Lucrezia did. She wanted it found after we left Sturmhalten. That way, even if you broke free of her, it would keep you and the Baron from talking.”

“If you’re innocent then why did you run?”

Any number of reasons, as well as convoluted definitions of the word ‘innocent,’ ran through Tarvek’s increasingly chaotic brain. I’m going into shock, he realized. Oh, that’s just perfect.

What he said was the simple truth; “You look very scary!”

Agatha opened her mouth, and then checked herself. If she looked anything at all like she felt—“I feel scary. In fact like I’m about to ignite! Why aren’t I exhausted?”

Realization jolted through Tarvek, snapping him closer to coherence. “Oh dear,” he muttered.

“Now what?” Agatha demanded.

Tarvek took a deep breath. “Listen—you’re drugged. With a massive load of stimulants. Lucrezia insisted that her priestesses see her moving on her own.”

“You’re joking! She wanted to feel like this?”

“Don’t hit me!” Tarvek bleated, “I had to give her a quadruple dose. Your body’s been awake for days now. If you get excited, your brain could kind of short circuit. You’ve got to stay calm!”

“Calm?” She shouted, “I feel jittery and angry and... and I have a... a terrible pressure on my chest! Like I have a... a...” She paused, and then reached under her shirt and into her cleavage. She gave a start of surprise, and pulled out the miniature Hive Engine. “And what on earth is this?” she demanded.

Klaus had intended to join the troops in the initial foray into the town. If he was honest with himself, he’d been rather looking forward to it. I’ve been hanging around the Jägers too much, he thought.

But this plan had collapsed with the appearance of the giant apparition over Sturmhalten Castle. He trusted the even-headedness of his commanders, but many of the rank and file troops had lost friends and family to The Other.

A Lieutenant stomped into the Command center Klaus had established in the port hangar bay of DuPree’s ship and saluted. “The townspeople are attacking us, Herr Baron.”

Klaus drummed his fingers upon the desk. “That is to be expected when you invade them, Lieutenant.”

The man had the grace to look embarrassed. “Yessir, but these people are unusually determined, sir. They claim we’re...” he coughed. “Servants of The Other, begging your pardon, Sir.”

Klaus’ fist thumped on the desk, cracking it slightly. “Confound that girl!” He sighed. “Casualties?”

The Lieutenant consulted the notes he’d memorized. “Three of ours, fifteen of theirs, so far. They’re determined fighters, but they’re not very good at it,” he offered. “The biggest problem is that it’s tying up troops.”

“Pretty smart.” Bangladesh strolled in and casually leaned on the corner of the Baron’s desk. “She ‘asks’ everyone to fight you, and they do, because she’s The Other and they have to obey her, but since people aren’t used to the idea of this new type of revenant, to any outside observers, it’ll look like she’s leading a popular uprising.”

Klaus had been about to tell DuPree to remove herself from his desk, but instead he nodded. “Very astute.” He studied Bangladesh and stroked his jaw. “Aren’t you worried that I might actually be The Other, as she claims?”

Bangladesh snorted. “Nah.”

“Really?” Klaus leaned forward. “Why not?”

DuPree rolled her eyes. “Klaus, you’re always telling me—” Her voice grew deeper and she took on a rather pompous cadence—“Oh, DuPree, don’t torture people. Don’t burn their town down, it’s not nice.”

Her voice returned to normal. “Or whatever. So if you were The Other, I’d be a revenant, because there’s no way you’d let me run around uncontrolled, and I’d have to obey you, even if a town really needed burning, y’know? But I can still act on my own better judgment, so I know everything’s okay. It’s all about free will!”

Klaus stared at her for a second and then slowly pinched his nose between his fingers. “And here I was foolishly hoping for an argument that would reassure the troops,” he muttered faintly.

He straightened up and addressed the Lieutenant, along with the rest of the command staff.

“There will be no reprisals for attacks. No burning. No executions. As long as they continue to pose only a minor threat, our policy will be to contain them.”

Bangladesh frowned. “They’re revenants. Why can’t we just kill them?”

Ah, DuPree, thought Klaus gratefully, ever the easily-refuted, public voice of unreason. “Because,” Klaus said carefully, “This is something new. These people aren’t shambling zombies. They aren’t monsters. Without The Other or their intermediaries giving them orders, they’re ordinary people. Perhaps they can still be saved.”

He allowed this concept to roll over those assembled in the room, and was gratified to see the expressions of hope that began to fill their faces.

He gestured towards the giant apparition visible outside the portholes. “We simply have to find the girl. Once she tells them to stop attacking us, they will.”

DuPree raised her hand. “And if she won’t?”

Klaus smiled at her. “Then I’ll let you make her change her mind.”

Bangladesh squealed like a schoolgirl and dashed back towards the bridge.

Agatha examined the small sphere and a finger accidentally pressed a rocker switch. A red light lit, and a small jet of vapor puffed out from the top. Several meters away, the weasels paused, and then screamed in unison, to the bafflement of their handlers. This however, did put the unit on alert, so that when a crowd of townspeople poured around the corner, they were ready for them.

The chief Vespiary Soldier was astonished. “Amazing! They sensed those revenants all they way over there! They’ve never been able to do that before.”

Tarvek, on the other hand was frantically whispering, “Agatha! Push the red button! The red button!”

Agatha saw his desperate face and made a decision. With a snap, she pressed the red button, and the device in her hands went inert.

“Form a firing line!” the Sergeant roared.

“No!” Tarvek screamed. “Don’t drop me!” as the trooper clank dropped him onto the pavement.

“They’re going to shoot them?” Agatha asked aghast.

This was obviously the case, as the crowd was surging forward. The soldiers coolly formed a line. The two clanks unshipped their massive machine cannons, and their motors began to whine as the barrels began to rotate up to speed.

“Fix bayonets!” Scorp ordered from the side. Smoothly the troops affixed the long steel blades to their rifles.

“But those people aren’t armed!” Agatha cried. “Some of them are children! They can’t—”

Tarvek grabbed her leg. “Stop them!” he said urgently. “You can control them. Tell them to stop! If they’re not attacking, the soldiers won’t shoot them!”

Agatha whirled towards the onrushing crowd and filled her lungs. “LISTEN TO ME!” she shouted.

“I think I found it, Captain.”

DuPree took her hands off of her ears. “About time! The noise is killing me!”

The command ship had luffed over Sturmhalten castle, and the ship’s observers had been told to find whatever was generating the colossal lightshow. They had been examining the grounds below ever since. One of them had thought to train her scopes within the shattered keep.

The image on the scope showed an odd machine, clearly operating, and throwing intense beams of light into the sky. The directional microphone also registered a significant uptick in decibels when the ship cleared the keep’s walls.

“Yeah, that’s gotta be it,” Bangladesh declared.

“Orders, Ma’am?”

Bangladesh stroked her chin. “We should assemble a device team. It may be rigged to prevent tampering, so we’ll want a gadgetman on a quick-pull return system. Once we shut it down, Klaus could study it or something.”

Everyone within earshot stared at the Captain in astonishment. Finally Bangladesh couldn’t contain herself any more and burst out laughing as she hit a lever. “Or we could just blow it up!”

The other crewmen relaxed. The scope operator wiped her brow. “You had me going there, Captain.”

On the keel of the airship, a bomb-bay door fell open and a small dropedo screamed earthwards, landing within two meters of Agatha’s projector. There was a satisfying explosion, and the giant image disappeared.

On the firing line, everyone blinked at the sudden cessation of sound. Even the crowd paused for a second, before continuing their advance.

“Eyes front!” Scorp roared. “The enemy is still advancing!”

Tarvek stared upwards at the smoldering keep. Suddenly, the ramifications of the silence hit him. The background music had stopped. Which meant—

He whipped around in time to see Lucrezia assess the situation. He shouted to the soldiers. “Ignore the crowd! The Heterodyne Girl! You’ve got to grab—”

The gunshot echoed from the stone walls and froze everyone. Tarvek dropped to the ground as Lucrezia tossed the revolver away. “Such a waste,” she sighed. Then she shouted. “KILL THE SOLDIERS! KILL THEM ALL!” And with a laugh, she vaulted over the nearest railing and darted off.

“Where’n the hell did she get a gun?” Scorp yelled.

The medic paled. “This... this is my gun, Sergeant.”

“You and you!” the Sergeant pointed to two troopers. “Get after her! Take her down!” To the rest he roared, “Firing positions!”

He then faced the onrushing mob of unarmed civilians and grit his teeth. “FIRE!”

Lucrezia heard the boom of rifles, followed by the roar of the machine cannons from behind her and smirked. “That will keep them busy.” She turned a corner and almost tripped over a wounded and shackled Vrin.

“Lady?” The Geisterdamen roused herself and smiled out from under the bruises. “I knew you would return!”

Lucrezia frowned. “You look terrible. I doubt you can run—” she examined the staple driven into the stone wall[73], “—even if I could release you.”

A pensive look stole over Vrin’s face. “Lady, please—”

“I’m sorry, but I simply can’t leave you here for dear Klaus to interrogate.” She stepped close and fixed the trapped woman with her full gaze. “Vrin—DIE.”

The chained woman jerked and fell back, and with a look of agonized betrayal frozen upon her face, began choking and gasping as she thrashed upon the ground.

A pair of Wulfenbach troops pounded around the corner, saw Lucrezia, and raised their rifles.

She looked over her shoulder as she took off. “You wouldn’t dare—”

Two bullets whipped past. One perforating her sleeve, the other clipping a few strands of hair. “Stop!” she screamed, “I surrender!”

She turned, hands raised, and saw the two soldiers taking aim at her heart. “Good.” The left one said. “That’ll make you easier to hit.”

The unfairness of this statement so surprised her, that a Jägermonster dropping from above and slamming the soldiers’ guns from their hands with a gigantic halberd seemed almost anti-climactic.

In seconds, the two soldiers were overwhelmed by a small crowd of people that included two more Jägers, a woman Lucrezia was able to identify as a Skifandrian, and a tall, good-looking fellow with a great deal of well-placed muscles.

They must be friends of my daughter, she realized. They should be easy to fool.

“You okay?” The voice was a bit odd, which was only fair, as upon turning, Lucrezia saw that it came from a white cat in a uniform.

To her embarrassment, she shrieked in surprise. This caused the cat to leap in terror to the top of the tallest thing in the vicinity, which at the moment, was Lucrezia.

There followed a most undignified display of mutual screaming and thrashing that left the two even more entangled than when they’d started.

“What’s the matter with you?” The cat demanded, “You almost scared me to death!”

The Skifandrian looked at her with narrowed eyes, “Are you all right?”

Lucrezia realized that subterfuge was worse than useless, and went straight to bewilderment. She’d always been good at that one. “Actually, I’m not sure. I think I’ve been drugged. I don’t...” she took a deep breath. “Do I know you people?”

They all looked at each other. Apparently her being drugged wasn’t totally unexpected. The tall man stepped forward. “I’m Lars. I’m... we’re all your friends. We’re here to rescue you.”

Lucrezia looked up at the earnest young man and had to restrain herself from running her hands over him. From the look on his face, if her daughter hadn’t done so already, then she had missed an obvious opportunity. “What a shame I don’t remember you,” she said softly.

The startled look on his face told her to dial it down a bit. However it had been a pleasantly startled look. Yes, there was fun to be had here when things had settled down a bit.

“So... Lars... what now?”

Lars glanced up at the hovering airships. “First? We get out of Sturmhalten.”

The cat visibly drooped. “The sewers again.”

“Hy go find us a vay in,” Ognian volunteered, and shambled off.

Lars continued. “I’m afraid so. After that? I guess we get you to Mechanicsburg. It’s only about three days away from here by horse if we ride steady.”

Lucrezia froze. “Mechanicsburg?”

Lars looked at her. “Well, yes, of course.” He took her shoulders. “We know you’re a Heterodyne. We’ll do whatever we—”

“NO!” Lucrezia pulled away from him. “I don’t want to go there!” There were too many things that could hurt her there. “I can’t!”

The Jägers stirred. “Iz best place for hyu. Keep hyu safe—”

“No! I won’t go there!”

Lars looked at her helplessly. “But... but where will we go?”

Lucrezia desperately tried to think—

“ENGLAND!”

The firm voice came from above. They all stared upwards at the tall man in flying leathers who leapt down from the ledge overhead. He stood before Lucrezia and formally bowed. He appeared to have a large bruise upon his forehead.

“I am Ardsley Wooster, of Her Majesty’s Secret Service. The Lady Heterodyne should remember me.”

He glanced at Agatha and was perplexed to see the look of bewilderment upon her face.

Maxim stepped forward. “Right now she dun remember nobody, Brit.”

Zeetha nodded, “She’s been drugged.”

“It’s true.” Krosp stared up at Ardsley. “She smells like a chemical lab. Trust me.” He paused, “But I remember you from Castle Wulfenbach, you were pretending to be Gilgamesh Wulfenbach’s valet.”

“That was my cover.” He studied Krosp. “I’m afraid I don’t remember you.”

Krosp smiled. “I’m sure most people consider you a pretty good spy, but they probably couldn’t find the stuff you kept hidden in the linen closet air vent.”

Wooster stared down at him and then nodded. “Lady Heterodyne, you are in grave danger here. I am empowered to extend an invitation to you to seek sanctuary in England, as an honored guest of Her Majesty. I have a flying machine at my disposal. It is parked back near your circus, so we must hurry.”

Krosp frowned. “What guarantees do we have—”

“I accept!” Lucrezia declared.

A sharp whistle broke into the conversation. Ognian waved at them from around a corner. “Lezz go, keeds! Qvickly! Dere’s soldiers all over der plaze!”

Shortly thereafter, they were once again clambering through the fetid pipes under the town.

Krosp scooted up to Lucrezia. “Agatha, are you sure about going to England?”

Lucrezia grinned. “Oh, yes! It’s perfect! As long as Albia lives, England is closed to Klaus.” A thought struck her. “Unless... Mr. Wooster, Albia does still rule, yes?”

The question caused Ardsley to stumble and he stared at Agatha with frank amazement upon his face. “Good heavens, yes. Why in the world would you think otherwise?”

This was a reasonable question, as Albia had been the reigning queen for a very long time[74].

“I... I’ve been out of touch,” Lucrezia said defensively, “Anything can happen.”

Wooster smiled and turned to continue. “Not in England, Miss. Her Majesty wouldn’t permit it.”

They turned a corner and daylight could be seen in the distance. They quickened their pace at the sight and soon encountered a rusty stormgrate. A shattered lock showed that the Jägers had preceded them, and they emerged, blinking, onto a streambed cluttered with debris. They waded ashore as Maxim and Zeetha reappeared from over a small hill.

“Hokay! Der circus is parked in the caravan staging area, and hy dun see any Vulfenbach troops.”

Zeetha nodded. “They’ve got all the wagons hitched up, so it looks like they’re getting ready to move out.”

Krosp frowned. “No troops at all?”

“That’s a stroke of luck,” Lars said.

“I suspect that Sturmhalten is putting up more resistance than the Baron expected,” Wooster said thoughtfully. “The whole giant lady thing, you know.”

Krosp nodded. “That won’t last though. The Baron’s strength comes from paying attention to the details. We’ve got to get out before he gets here.”

Wooster concurred. “But once we’re gone,” he said to Lars, “your people should be safe.”

Lucrezia laughed. “Oh yes. Just tell him that I threatened to kill you all if you betrayed me.”

Lars looked at her askance. “That seems a bit much.”

They crested a small ridge, and below them were the caravan grounds. The circus wagons were indeed all hitched up. The horses stamped their feet. A few tenders were busy in the distance checking harnesses.

Wooster stopped. “Where is everyone?”

Lars pointed. A crowd could be seen at the center of the array of wagons. “Pre-travel meeting. Whenever there’s a possibility of trouble, Master Payne assigns places down the road where we can all meet up.” He glanced back at the town and the airships floating overhead. “I think trouble on the road’s a pretty safe bet this time,” he said ruefully.

They came up to the three Jägers, who were looking uncharacteristically glum. Dimo was talking.

“Hyu two eediots gots to take care uf Miss Agatha, now.”

“Yes, Dimo,” the other two replied.

“And youselves!”

Maxim and Ognian looked even more miserable. “Ve try.”

Krosp frowned. “Dimo? You’re staying?”

The green Jäger nodded. “Yaz. Ve saw tings dot de Baron must know about. Geistervimmin in der tunnels. Hive Engines—”

“No!” Lucrezia snapped. “I don’t want anyone going to Klaus!”

Dimo looked surprised. “But Lady, diz iz a lucky break for hyu.”

Lucrezia blinked. Dimo continued. “Diz iz impawtent hinformation. De Baron may be after hyu, but he hates vasps and der revenants. Ven he hears dis, he’ll go after der ghost ladies, not hyu.”

Lucrezia thought furiously. “But... but he’ll kill you.”

Dimo frowned. “Vot? No he von’t. Oggie vas de vun who ate all his—”

“Shoddop ’bout dot!” Ognian interjected.

“The Baron’s troops are shooting townspeople! If they’ll do that—”

Surprisingly, all of the Jägers grinned. “Ho! Iz dot all? Dun vorry ’bout dot! Dey’s using stun bullets and ‘C’ Gas.”

“What!”

Maxim nodded. “Ho yez! Hyu ken hear der difference ven dey shoots, eef hyu knowz vat to listen for.”

Wooster broke in. “They are standard issue for police actions, M’Lady.”

Tarvek might still be alive, Lucrezia realized. How inconvenient.

“So Hy vill buy hyu time—”

“No!” Lucrezia screamed in frustration. “You serve me and I forbid it! You’ll tell the Baron nothing!”

The next question came only because Dimo had been a free agent for over ten years. As it was, it surprised him as much as it did Lucrezia. “But... vy?”

She stared at him. Furiously, she opened her mouth—

“Yes.” The terrifyingly familiar voice said. “Tell them why.”

From the wagon in front of them, Klaus Wulfenbach stepped forward. From the other wagons, doors slammed open and dozens of armed soldiers began to pour forth and encircle them. “I would certainly like to know.”

Lucrezia stared at him, frozen by a cascade of emotions, of which both guilt and fear played a large part.

In the distance, Lars saw the circus members being quickly hustled off by a squad of soldiers.

Klaus stared down at her. He was used to reading people, but the reactions he was seeing on the face of the Heterodyne girl seemed inexplicable. “My spotters saw my son’s flying machine, even though he is still back aboard Castle Wulfenbach. I can only assume that he sent his Mr. Wooster here to rescue you from me.”

Klaus ran his eye about the scene. Unsurprisingly, the British agent had vanished. He wouldn’t get far. Klaus turned back to the girl. “It seemed a reasonable guess that you would turn up here.”

Klaus paused. “But perhaps you do not need ‘rescuing.’ At least, not from me.” His features softened a bit. “You are Bill Heterodyne’s child. You were raised by Punch and Judy, two of the best people I ever knew. My son... believes in you. Most importantly, you seem to have been raised away from the influence of your mother and her family.” That got a reaction. A small twitch in the left eye. Interesting.

“If you are indeed innocent, then step forward now. It would be best for you—” Klaus paused, “—For everyone, if you joined me willingly.”

A hush fell over the scene. The soldiers had paused. They were all watching and listening.

Klaus spoke gently, but clearly. “Yes, you will be guarded. This town is infested with a heretofor undiscovered type of revenant. Until I know what has happened here, until it is controlled, I trust no one.” He firmed up his voice, and it rang out. “I can be ruthless, but I try to be fair. What is your decision?”

“I...” The fate of Europa teetered upon the edge of a knife. “I...”

“Agatha,” Zeetha stepped from around Lars. “This is the best thing we could have hoped for. Why are—”

“YOU!” The shout of surprise swung every eye back to Klaus, who was staring at Zeetha like he’d seen a ghost. “Djorok’ku skifandias von?”

Zeetha jerked like she’d been punched in the stomach. “Ah... ah... Zur bakken Skiff?”

“Kar!” The Baron roared, “Mor bakken Skiff!” He pointed a finger. “Braka na Zantabr—!”

What he had been about to say was lost, as at this point, a bug flew into his mouth. Klaus choked, and his eyes went wide. “Gak!”

Lucrezia smiled tightly and slipped the activated hive enginette back under her jacket. “Got you!” she whispered.

Up on the wagon, Klaus’ face was turning red, and he dropped to his knees while clawing at his throat.

Lucrezia strode forward. “Why are you all just standing around? Can’t you see he’s choking?” A flustered looking soldier made a halfhearted attempt to block her. “Let me through! I can help him! He wanted us to work together!”

“Where’s the damn doctor?” The trooper yelled. A Captain ran up. “They’re all in that twice-cursed town!” He ostensibly drew his side arm. “Okay, Lady—” he hesitated, “—Heterodyne. He was giving you the benefit of the doubt... Earn it.”

Lucrezia ignored him and knelt down beside the now convulsing Baron. Several of the soldiers leaned in.

“Get back! Give him air,” Lucrezia cried. She began a showy, but useless massaging of the throat area, while under her breath, she was counting. On a normal wasp, the nerve fusion process only took seconds, if it successfully worked at all. There was no guessing how long this experimental specimen—

With a gasp, Klaus drew in a great lungful of air and collapsed. With a sigh, Lucrezia released the breath she hadn’t even realized she was holding in.

Klaus began to breath normally. Well done, Herr Doktor Snarlantz, she thought admiringly, requiescat in pace.

“The blockage is gone!” she announced loudly. “He’s going to be all right!” She deftly loosened a few buttons on his coat. “Let’s just give him a little more air and let him rest for a minute.” The Captain nodded, but held his gun steadily upon her.

Lucrezia tried to ignore him as she continued to ease Klaus’ breathing. His coat was definitely too tight here. She frowned, “What is this in your waistcoat?” She expertly picked his pocket and extracted a small metal case. It looked like a jewelry box—

“Why, it has the Heterodyne sigil on it. Was this for me?” She snapped it open. Within lay nestled a large, gold trilobite brooch. Lucrezia smiled in admiration. “Dear Klaus. You always thought of everything.”

“Who are you?” The voice was ragged, but the steel behind it was unmistakable.

Lucrezia tried to smile like an idiot. “Why, Herr Baron. I’m Agatha Heterodyne—”

“No.” Klaus heaved himself up onto his elbows and stared at her. Sweat poured from his face. “Speech patterns. Facial expressions. Body stance. I know you. Who?” He grimaced in frustration. “Arrgh. Something wrong with my head. Can’t think!”

Lucrezia felt a frisson of fear. He shouldn’t be this coherent, this focused, so quickly. She leaned in and smiled. “The confusion will pass. You were choking—”

“You did this.”

Lucrezia abandoned the pretense. He was already hers. “Why yes, I did. And quite handily too.”

Klaus’ eyes widened. “Lucrezia!”

She flinched. “How did you know?”

“Heard you gloat too many times.”

Lucrezia smiled grimly. “Well, you’ll hear it a lot more often from now on.”

“I think not!” Klaus’ voice began to return to its full power. “I’ll—”

“Silence!” Lucrezia hissed.

Klaus’ voice failed him in midsyllable. His eyes bulged and he clutched at his throat. Lucrezia felt a wave of triumph roar through her. “It’s working! My beautiful little wasp is controlling that magnificent brain!”

As the implications of this hit Klaus, he froze, and he stared at her. Lucrezia felt another jolt of fear from the expression on his face. With some effort, she shrugged it off. Klaus was harmless now.

“You should be happy, Klaus,” she said. The Baron’s mouth jerked upwards in a death’s head grin. Lucrezia swallowed. What an impossible man.

“I’ll give you what you want,” she said soothingly. “A Wulfenbach/ Heterodyne alliance, as civil and sweet as pie.” She sat back on her haunches. “It’ll just be controlled by me.”

She stood up and leaned over him. “Let me help you get up,” she said quietly. “Look grateful.” Klaus jerkily extended a hand and Lucrezia once again experienced the sensation of a mountain rising beside her as Klaus slowly got to his feet. Around them, the troops cheered, and her daughter’s friends looked relieved. She’d have to deliberate on what to do about them.

She waved at the crowd and spoke from the corner of her mouth. “Don’t worry, I’ll play the good little girl... in public.”

She smiled and pulled out the trilobite locket. At the sight of it, Klaus’ eyes widened and he stared at her with an unreadable expression on his face. “I’ll even wear my little family sigil so everyone will know who I am! I’m so glad you thought to bring it.”

With a giggle, she unsprung the pin and speared it through her collar.

With a snap, she closed it.

Her smile faltered.

There was a sound.

A whine. Like a mosquito. It was getting closer. No... not closer—

A clamp slammed onto her brain. “NOOOO!” Lucrezia screamed as she fell into the darkness.

Agatha blinked, and found herself facing an astonished crowd of people. She smiled in delight. “I’m back!”

Behind her, Klaus’ greatsword reached the top of its arc and swept back down towards her neck.