Agatha H. And the Clockwork Princess (37 page)

With a start, Agatha looked at her again and saw that she was not excessively made up, as she had first assumed, but was in fact, some of human-like clank, one that in construction, reminded Agatha of nothing so much as Moxana. The clank girl continued. “During dinner itself, I really
must
insist upon intelligent conversation.”

Agatha was so astonished at this apparition that her mind made the obvious connection and she spoke without thinking. “Tinka?”

Prince Tarvek gave a start at this and regarded her with amazement. “This, mademoiselle, is my sister, the princess Anevka Sturmvarous.” Agatha quickly repeated her curtsey. Tarvek continued. “And this, Anevka dear, is Mademoiselle Olga. Her circus—”

He paused, and then clapped his hand to his head and laughed. “Of course! Master Payne’s Circus of Adventure! I had forgotten their name! No
wonder
she knew about Tinka!”

Anevka’s eyes had been examining Agatha. Darting about and focusing with a series of quick, audible clicks. Now she glided forward. The men behind her stepped forward as she did, maintaining their exact distance, as if they were connected to her by an invisible yoke.

“Extraordinary.” Anekva’s voice, while odd, was fascinating. Her face, it appeared, had only a limited range of expression. Her actual voice emanated from a small, decorated grill nestled in a jeweled collar at her throat. “Then it is to your wonderful circus that I owe my life.”

Agatha blinked. “Do tell.”

Tarvek shrugged. “An—” he hesitated. “Experiment of my father’s went wrong. As a result, my sister was dying. Her body itself was failing. I won’t bore you with the details as they were quite horrifying, but the only thing that could save her was to remove her. Easy enough, of course, but the associated psychological trauma of no longer having no actual body was almost as deadly.”

Anevka fluttered her fan. “I had just redone my entire wardrobe. The irony was simply too much to bear.”

Tarvek ignored this. “Then a traveling show came along. And there, treated as just another sideshow novelty, was a Van Rijn! A real one! I’ve been studying them for years, and there was no mistake.”

He shook his head at the memory. “Well, I took it. I’m not proud of that, but time was running out.”

He straightened up and gestured at his sister. “And I did it. I was able to reverse engineer enough of Van Rijn’s designs that I could build Anevka a working body that was more sophisticated than a hand puppet. I sent payment to the circus, but by then they’d quite sensibly left town.”

Agatha stepped forward and examined Anevka’s head in wonder. A frown crossed her face.

“And your brain fits in there? I would think the necessary mechanisms alone—” Belatedly Agatha realized what she was saying and her hand flew to her mouth in embarrassment. “Forgive me, your Highness! I… I was just—”

Anevka burst out laughing and lightly bonked the top of Agatha’s head with her fan. “Don’t be ridiculous, dear girl! You can’t imagine how refreshing it is to have some honest curiosity. Most people do their damndest to pretend that everything is perfectly normal.”

She swiveled about and indicated the device the four retainers carried upon their shoulders. “That is where the corpus Anevka is located. My catafalque keeps me alive, and through these—” she indicated the leather hoses, “I am able to manipulate and control this clever little doll my brother built for me.”

Agatha regarded the device and the obviously delighted Anevka with awe. “Your brother has done you proud, your Highness. It’s a magnificent feat of medical engineering.” She realized that this might be a bit abstract as far as compliments go. “And you wear it so well.”

Anevka laughed. “He’s very clever, for a boy who kept buttoning his shoes together.”

Tarvek rolled his eyes. “I was four!”

“Four and a half.”

Tarvek turned to Agatha. “Ignore her. As you can see, she still needs work.” With his hand, he quite openly made the universal gesture that all mechanics made to declare “This is a dangerously crazy machine
⁴⁵
.”

Agatha tried to ignore this. “But what happened to Tinka?”

Tarvek immediately stopped smiling. “Ah. Once again my father enters the story.”

“Hi—hihi—ness—ness—”

They all turned, and coming from another doorway was a second clank woman. She was dressed in a simple robe. But unlike Anevka, this was obviously an automaton. She moved in a distressing, jerky motion, and even when she stood in one spot, she swayed slightly, as if she was perpetually off balance.

“Tinka!” Tarvek quickly moved to the clank’s side and helped steady her. “Tinka, why have you left the lab?”

The machine’s face swiveled towards him. Her enormous eyes blinked with a click. “I—I—I heard—servants said—Ma—Ma—Master Payne’s circus he—he—here?”

Tarvek nodded slowly. “Yes, it is.”

The clank shuddered. “Would you—would you—I—I—I can—would you like to see me dance?” She jerked away from Tarvek and spun about in a graceful twirl that ended with her slamming into the nearest wall. Tarvek leapt to her and caught her before she fell. She looked up at him. “I—I—I require maintenance. Please please please—” This continued until Tarvek gave her a short smack on her shoulder, at which she stopped in mid-word.

Anevka tilted her head to one side and gently tapped her folded fan against her jaw. “This is very unusual,” she confided to Agatha.

“What, her condition?”

Anevka shook her head. “Oh no, in that she is moving at
all
.”

Meanwhile Tarvek had waved over a pair of servants, to whom he passed the malfunctioning clank. “Take her back to my lab. Tinka, I’ll be there soon.”

The clank jerked in the servant’s arms. “The circus. I must—”

The servants led her away, still stuttering. Tarvek wearily ran a hand through his hair and turned back to Agatha and his sister. “As I was saying, my father couldn’t resist taking her apart. I’ve done the best I can reassembling her and that is the result.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “She can walk and she can talk. But there is something seriously wrong and I cannot figure it out. I—feel like I owe her. Without her—” He glanced at his sister, who patted his arm before turning away and leading her entourage out through the far door.

“I
will
repair her.” He glanced at Agatha, and with a small smile, again offered her his arm. “I suppose that sounds foolish. To feel obligated to a… a glorified clank.”

Agatha covered his hand with her own. “Not at all,” she assured him. “I think it’s rather noble. Besides, Master Payne believes they were—
are
, more than just clanks.”

Tarvek considered this. “Hm. I might want to talk to your Master Payne.” A small bell chimed from the other room. “Ah, dinner.”

With that, they went through the doorway into an elegantly appointed dining hall. Light was supplied by the ubiquitous electric lamps, which were hung in decorative clusters across the frescoed ceiling. The walls were lined with the castle’s now familiar liveried servants, who stood motionless, their hands at their sides. A long table was covered in a snow-white linen cloth and another electrical display merrily buzzed and crackled down the center. Only four place settings were in evidence, each of them bracketed by entirely too many utensils. Agatha examined one, and upon hefting it, guessed that it had been cast from solid electrum.

Anevka was ensconced on one side of the table. Most of her retinue had been dismissed, except for the four men who carried her device. They stood quietly behind her ornate, open backed chair.

Agatha and Tarvek were seated together. Next to Agatha, at the slightly raised head of the table, sat the master of Sturmhalten, Prince Aaronev IV.

He was obviously Tarvek’s sire, with the same blue eyes frankly assessing her from behind an odd set of glasses. These contained several inset lenses, which he used by disconcertingly moving his head about as he studied her. Aaronev and his daughter were in a discussion as Agatha and Tarvek entered.

Anevka was leaning forward, her voice quiet, but intense. “But why can’t you just
analyze
—”

Her father cut her off. “Enough daughter. This discussion is finished. Our guest is here.”

When they reached the end of the table, Agatha again curtsied.
I’m getting good at this,
she thought.

Tarvek stepped forward, and made a small formal bow. “Father, may I present Madame Olga, of Master Payne’s Circus of Adventure.”

The Prince waved Agatha forward. “Do be seated, my dear.”

Agatha settled into the chair that a servant held for her. A small swarm of them then descended upon the table, pouring wines and setting out various foodstuffs. Agatha’s wineglass was filled from an elegant green cut-glass carafe. The wine was a deep purple and smelled of spices and green fields. Agatha took a cautious sip.

Agatha had not really had much experience with wine before she left Beetleburg. Her parents had not favored it. Once she had joined the circus, she had been given an instructional course in wine, beer, ale, and cider as well as a wide variety of cordials and homebrewed spirits. Partially, the Countess had explained, because a young lady should be educated about these things, and be able to converse about them knowledgably. Partially, Pix had explained, because a young lady should be aware of the effects of these things upon her and be able to recognize when she was being plied. And partially, Zeetha had explained, because sometimes a warrior needed to get really drunk, and like all worthwhile things, it got easier with practice.

This had lead to some rather amusing nights and some rather awful mornings. On the whole, Agatha had decided that alcohol was something that she could take or leave, and for the most part, left. This particular beverage, however, seemed tasty and of a rather low potency.

A server placed a small bowl of what proved to be a deliciously savory red cabbage and bacon soup before her. The others were similarly served, which precipitated a discreet clattering of spoons.

Anevka ate nothing, but merely sat with folded hands and chatted with her father about a few items of castle management. After a few moments, the Prince cleared his throat and turned to Agatha. “We very much enjoyed your performance this evening.”

Agatha nodded. “Your Highness is most kind.”

Aaronev raised his own glass and looked at her over the rim. “We knew the lady you played, you know.” Agatha choked slightly on a spoonful of soup
⁴⁶
.

“Oh. I… I hope I haven’t given offense,” Agatha stammered. “It’s difficult to remember that we actually portray real people.” She thought for a moment. “Sort of.”

Aaronev laughed. “Nonsense, my dear. Truth be told, you captured her perfectly.”

This gave Agatha a bit of a pause, as she was still reconciling herself to the idea that Lucrezia Mongfish was her actual mother.

Aaronev continued casually. “In fact, it’s remarkable, really, but you sound just like her.”

Agatha smiled gamely and took another sip of wine. The taste was growing on her. “Why, thank you, your Highness.”

Aaronev slowly swirled the wine around in his glass. “Have you known many Sparks?”

Agatha waved her hand in dismissal. “Oh no!” She paused and then felt compelled to add, “Well, I did grow up in Beetleburg, so I saw Dr. Beetle, of course.”

The Prince nodded. “Oh, of course. Did you see him a lot?”

“Almost every day. I assisted in his lab for years.”

Aaronev’s eyebrows went up in surprise. “Did you now?”

“Oh yes, I was there when he died.”

Tarvek broke in. “We heard about that. A great shame. We had heard that this mysterious son of the Baron’s killed him.”

Agatha nodded. “Yes, but to be fair, Dr. Beetle
did
throw a bomb at him.” She smiled. Gil would be happy she remembered that part. That made her happy, too.

Aaronev nodded as if this was a perfectly normal turn of events. “So you’ve seen the Baron and this son of his?”

“Oh yes, I saw the Baron a bit when I was abducted onto Castle Wulfenbach, and his son, Gilgamesh Wulfenbach wanted to marry me.” Tarvek choked on a spoonful of soup at this, and had a small coughing fit. A servant stepped up and thumped him on the back. Tarvek waved him away and grabbed his wineglass.

Anevka leaned forward. “Did he now? But here you are.”

Agatha shrugged. “I had to escape from Castle Wulfenbach when everyone found out I was actually a Heterodyne.”

This time Tarvek actually sprayed his wine across the table.

CHAPTER 8

The fifty families play a game

That all revolves around a name.

To play the game you must be skilled

   The Game of Kings can get you killed.

    They plot and murder, lie and sin

     Determined no one else should win.

      They’ll turn Europa upside down

       To try to claim the Lightning Crown.

—Anonymous

(No, really, we don’t know who wrote it. Honest.)

O
ver the next several courses, Agatha chatted away, cheerfully answering the occasional question, and recounting her experiences of the last several months.

A small growing voice of alarm from somewhere deep within her head vainly tried to get her attention, but was easily overridden by her mouth, which babbled on.

The only time she paused was when she was talking about Gilgamesh. She was giving the facts of her final encounter in a clear steady voice, but a distant part of her noticed that her eyes were streaming almost nonstop, and there was a discernible huskiness to her voice. How sad.

“I suppose I’ll never see him again. If I’m lucky.” She took a deep breath and smiled at the Prince. “And this is a simply lovely torte.” She then collapsed face forward onto her dessert.

There was a pause, as everyone in the room waited to see if this was the end of the show. After a few moments, Agatha began softly humming some sort of waltz. The Prince impatiently waved over a server, took the decanter that had contained Agatha’s wine, and gave it a sniff.