Agatha H. and the Airship City (31 page)

It was a small circular piece of shiny silver metal. Agatha looked at it blankly, then her face cleared. “Ah. It’s some sort of connector from the gas system. It’s kind of pretty.”

Gil nodded as he plucked it from her hand. “Yes. It’s perfect.” With that he gently but firmly took Agatha’s left hand and slid the connector over her ring finger. “Here. A little souvenir.”

Agatha felt herself flushing as she took her hand back. Selfconsciously she re-examined her hand. The connector was stamped with a tiny little Wulfenbach House sigil. She felt a wave of joy beginning to fizzle upwards through her body. She was so happy that she almost missed that Gil was talking.

“Now come on. As pitiful as they are, the rest of the wasps should keep my father busy for a while.” He slipped her arm through his, and turned towards the exit. “We can grab one of the support gigs, sail down to the nearest town and be married before he even knows that we’re gone.”

Agatha stopped so suddenly that Gil, still hooked through her arm, found himself spun around to face her. Agatha’s face was blank. “Married?”

Gil patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry. He won’t be mad once he finds out that you’re a Spark! He’s talking about marrying me off anyway—it’ll serve him right when I run off and do it on my own.”

Agatha gazed upwards into Gil’s excited face. Her lips parted and she burst out laughing. This was not the reaction Gil had expected and he looked surprised. “What?”

Agatha took a moment to wipe the tears off the inside of her glasses as she continued to giggle. Finally she took a deep breath, and smiled. “That’s the worst marriage proposal I have ever heard.”

Gil swallowed. “You… get a lot of them?”

Agatha crossed her arms. “You want to marry me to annoy your father?” She sighed dramatically and theatrically raised her hand to her brow. “How romantic.”

These were unknown waters for Gil, but he was smart enough to realize that by flailing desperately enough, he might still come through.

“NO! No! No!” He waved his hands frantically. Agatha cocked an eyebrow. Still interested. Good.

“I… I know we haven’t known each other long. But I really think we’d be very well suited… for each other.”

Glance. Eyebrow down. Not good. Panic.

“Look—I’ve known a lot of girls and they were—” At this point Gil could feel hereto for unused parts of his brain screaming at him to shut up. He didn’t even bother to look at her now. “No. Wait! That’s unimportant!” What
is
important?

He looked at Agatha. She stood there, outlined in early morning light coming in through the window. Her hair was the most magnificent reddish gold he had ever seen. He took in the entirety of her and realized that he wanted to hold her in his arms and never ever let her go, and then he looked once again into those dazzling green eyes and knew that if he could spend the rest of his life watching them experience the things he could show them, then his life would be complete, and more importantly, that without her, his life would be forever empty and bereft of purpose. For the rest of Gilgamesh’s life, whenever he thought of Agatha, the first and most enduring image, the one that was burned into his heart, was this one, where she stood and looked at him and listened to him babble and tried to decide whether he would live or die.

With this realization, a great clarity washed through him and he realized that if he wanted her, all he had to do was tell her why. His mouth finally got the message and snapped shut in mid-burble.

He straightened up and looked Agatha full in the face. Agatha blinked and uncrossed her arms. Gil stepped closer.

“Agatha, I—”

“Ha-HA!” There was a swoosh, a blur of gold, and a “Gloof!” from Agatha. And she was gone.

Gil spun around and saw Agatha being carried off by Othar Tryggvassen, who was effortlessly swinging through the air on a long cable. “HEY!” he yelled.

Othar gracefully turned, and he and Agatha landed atop a ceiling girder. She twisted out of his grasp. “Do you
mind?”
She hissed, “I was
busy
here!”

From the floor Gil called up frantically. “Agatha! Get away from him!”

“What’s the matter, Wulfenbach?” Othar called back jovially. “Didn’t expect a hero to rescue the damsel from your unwelcome advances?”

Gil shook his fist. “They weren’t unwelcome, you idiot!”

Agatha shoved forward. “Just a minute! I’m not done
yelling
at you yet!”

Othar gently pulled her back from the edge. “Well, yes you are.” He reached into his side holster and pulled forth a bizarre little steam pistol. “We’ve got to go.” He aimed the gun at Gil: “And he’s got to die.”

Just as he fired, Agatha grabbed his arm and yanked with all her might. This threw Othar off balance and he swayed precipitously on the edge of the girder. Below, the bullet smacked into the wall centimeters from Gil’s head. With a grimace, Gilgamesh ducked down into the maze of machinery and was lost to sight.

Othar sighed. “Drat.” He turned to Agatha. “He got away… for the moment.”

Agatha stood braced for Othar’s fury. “I won’t let you—”

He wagged a gently admonishing finger in her face. “You should be more careful. You could have fallen. You’re lucky I caught you.”

The events of the last twenty seconds replayed in Agatha’s mind. “But you
didn’t—”

“I hope you’re not going to be one of those
clumsy
girl sidekicks who always need rescuing during my final showdown with the

villain,” Othar remarked.

“I AM NOT YOUR SIDEKICK!”

Othar laughed. “Of course you are! You came to rescue me!”

“If I’d known you were going to run around trying to shoot people who were
proposing
to me—!”

“Oh that was just the once.” The sheer number of things that Agatha wanted to say to this, temporarily overwhelmed her ability to speak. Othar, unfortunately, did not have this problem. “Now, your innocence does you credit, but you’ll soon learn that Evil deserves no pity! And young Wulfenbach is certainly evil.”

Agatha rolled her eyes.
“Clueless
I’ll give you, but—”

Her words were left behind as Agatha herself was swept off the girder by Gilgamesh swinging through on his own cable. They lightly touched down on an adjoining girder. “If being like you is the alternative,” Gil remarked to Othar, as he relinquished his grip on the cable, “then I’ll gladly take being evil.”

The released cable vanished into the dimness of the ceiling, followed by several squeaks and a faint
fwap.
This caused Othar to pause and peer upwards into the darkness, which may have been why he missed seeing the beam which swung down from the side, caught him square in the ribs and smashed him through the plate glass wall and into open space. As he arced downwards, they heard him admonish them with a final declaration of “Foul!” before he vanished into the cloudscape below.

Agatha rushed over to the window and stared down in shock. “You threw him out of the airship,” she cried. “I went to all that trouble to
rescue
him and you’ve
killed
him!”

“But he was shooting—” Gil realized this was a futile line of argument and switched tactics. “He’ll be fine. I’ve seen him survive worse.” Agatha looked at him incredulously. “Trust me. When you get to know him better, you’ll want to throw him out a window yourself.”

As he spoke Gil casually slipped off a shoe and with a moment’s calculation tossed it down into the machinery below. It hit a lever and a winch began to creak, lowering a hook on a large chain past their girder. Gil casually looped his arm around Agatha’s waist, snagged the chain and they held each other tightly as they headed for the distant deck below.

“I occasionally want to throw any
number
of people out a window—” Agatha said looking significantly at Gil—”But I
control
myself.”

But Gil wasn’t listening. “Uh-huh. Forget eloping.”

Agatha blinked. “Oh. But—”

“We’re going straight to my father. I’ll have him announce that you are, in effect, married to me already.”

The thudding of their feet upon the deck broke Agatha’s shocked silence. She ripped herself free of Gil’s arm. “How dare you? What do you think—?”

“Any number of people are going to try to grab you. So the sooner the world sees that you are
mine
, the safer you’ll be.” Gil calmly retrieved his shoe and slipped it back on. He turned back to Agatha and froze. Agatha’s fury poured off of her like a physical force, and it took all of his strength not to step back. Every instinct he possessed warned him that he was close to death and he frantically tried to figure out why.

“I am not your personal property,
or
Othar’s!”

“I
know
that! But you’re going to wind up
someone’s
personal property unless we act now!”

“I thought the Baron outlawed slavery.”

Gil rolled his eyes. “You’ve never been outside Beetleburg. You couldn’t understand—”

“Don’t assume I’m too
stupid
to understand—
explain
it to me!”

Gil reeled as if he’d been struck. His shoulders slumped. “You’re right.”

Agatha had been prepared for more arguing. She paused, and released the lungful of air she’d gathered. Encouraged by her silence. Gil continued: “The reason I… I like you is because you’re smart. I should treat you that way. Explain why I think this is in your best interest, as well as my own.” Agatha raised her eyebrows encouragingly.

A small explosion shuddered somewhere in the distance. Gil’s eyes hardened. “But I’m afraid I simply don’t have the time.” Agatha’s eyes widened in shock as Gil took her wrist in a grip like iron. “You’ll come with me now, and I’ll explain—”

A massive fist came down and connected to the top of Gil’s head with a meaty
BONK,
and he collapsed to the deck.

“Was this boy
bothering
you, dear?”

“Lilith!” Agatha shouted. “Adam!” For it was indeed her parents standing before her. To her surprise she saw that they were garbed in coveralls, peppered with small pockets carrying tools and useful bits of gear. The outfits appeared to be rather old and well-used, though Agatha was sure that she’d never seen them before. She looked down at Gilgamesh sprawled out at her feet. “You
hit
him.”

The burly construct allowed himself a self-satisfied smile. But Lilith noticed the concern in Agatha’s voice. “He’ll be fine, dear.” A touch of concern appeared on her face. “Who is he?”

Agatha leaned down and shifted Gil slightly so that his head was at a less awkward angle. “Gilgamesh Wulfenbach,” she informed them. “He… um… wants me to marry him.” A look of shock passed between the two constructs. Agatha continued, “In fact, he kind of insists.”

Seconds later Agatha found herself tucked under Adam’s massive arm while her step-parents were running down a corridor. “So you don’t think I should then?”

“We’re leaving,” Lilith informed her.
“Right now!”

Agatha looked out the window at the flotilla of airships that attended the Castle. “How?” She thought for a second. “And how did you
get
here?”

“We’ve been following the Castle from the ground. We were planning on hijacking one of the regular supply ships, but today there was a flurry of activity, with dozens of ships bringing people to the ground.” They came to a massive bulkhead door which had been sealed. Lilith began spinning dials.

“There was an evacuation of the labs,” Agatha explained. “There was an accident with a Slaver Engine.”

Lilith froze on hearing this and then, without further ado, simply ripped the massive door out of its frame. “We commandeered a pinnace and we’ll leave the same way.”

They found themselves in an enormous, dimly lit chamber lined with pumps slowly thumping away on either side. “But this place is huge,” Agatha observed. “How did you manage to find me?”

Lilith shrugged. “We
have
done this sort of thing before, dear. We just looked for the center of chaos and there you were.” She shook her head. “We knew something like this would happen if your locket was removed.”

Agatha’s hand automatically went to the empty place near her throat. “My locket?”

Adam and Lilith looked at each other. Adam shrugged, and Lilith nodded. “You started to break through at a
very
early age—”

“You knew I was a Spark?”

Lilith nodded. “Your uncle made the locket specifically to keep you from breaking through completely.”

“But I was so
stupid!
How could you let me
live
like that?”

“We were
hiding
you!” Lilith answered hotly. “Young Sparks never survive without powerful protection! If they don’t blow themselves up or get killed by their creations, they’re likely to go mad and kill everyone around them.”

They turned a corner and Agatha began to note signs of the fighting. Smoke drifted through the air, and a single dead wasp warrior lay crushed beneath a gas cylinder that had obviously been taken from a stack of same that lined the wall. Lilith grimaced, and continued: “Your uncle was gone. Beetle wasn’t strong enough, and the Baron would have taken you instantly.” She broke off and caught Agatha’s eye. “And you don’t ever want that.”

Agatha opened her mouth to question, but Lilith plowed on. “In the country you would have been killed by the peasantry. Even burned as a Witch. Plus you’re a girl. Girls with the Spark, they usually just disappear. Even the Baron’s people have noticed that there’s a disproportionately low number of them, but they don’t know why. Every power in Europe is going to try to kill you or control you. You’ve already seen that with young Wulfenbach.”

“But I don’t understand,” Agatha cried. “There are a
lot
of Sparks wandering about. Why would
I
be in so much danger?”

Lilith stopped dead in front of the door. Her head briefly slumped forward enough that it rested on the cool metal surface.