Agatha H. And the Clockwork Princess (57 page)

BOOK: Agatha H. And the Clockwork Princess
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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—
Hzzzk
pop—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!”

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