Agatha H. And the Clockwork Princess (47 page)

Bangladesh smiled wickedly. “Awww, c’mon. Let me tell him.”

Klaus cleared his throat. “I think not. At this point, all Gilgamesh knows is that I want her here because, as the last of the Heterodyne family, she is a threat to the peace.”

He sighed. “That’s certainly true enough, and if a Heterodyne is all that she is, that’s fine. But if I have to destroy her—” Klaus paused. “Well, he’s very much in love with her. He is unlikely to be reasonable about all of this, no matter what I say, and I don’t think he’d let me.”

Bangladesh blinked and then looked at Klaus incredulously. “You don’t think he’d
let
you? Gil?” She let out a burst of laughter that caused everyone in the control room to flinch. She spun about in her chair holding her stomach. “You’re fretting about Herr Sensitive? Klaus, please.”

Klaus frowned in embarrassment. “I assure you, if he allied himself with The Other, it would be very bad indeed. Not just for Europa, but possibly for the entire world.”

Bangladesh tried to control herself and wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “Oh, I understand, Herr Baron. Heaven forbid I have to face a put-out Gilgamesh.” She broke into another series of giggles.

Klaus studied her in annoyance, but because DuPree was, in her own way, a valuable asset, Klaus felt he had to make an effort to warn her. “You knew Gilgamesh in Paris. While there, he tried to hide everything important about himself. Even from me.” He eyed Bangladesh who tried to look innocent. It didn’t suit her. “The Gilgamesh you think you know is not the real Gilgamesh. Do not underestimate him.”

Bangladesh nodded, and Klaus could almost see his words slide free from her far ear and sail off into space. Mentally, he shrugged. He had done his best, and if worst came to worst, the boy could always use another test.

Lucrezia sat back and tapped the device that sat on the bench before her with a fingernail. The mechanism shivered, and began to spin gently.

She sighed in satisfaction. “There? You see? Place this in the control node, and the main device will be working better than ever.”

Tarvek leaned over her shoulder, a look of rapt attention on his face. “Amazing!” he breathed. “I had no idea! You must teach me more!”

Lucrezia shrugged. The things she was revealing were, in her opinion, elementary advances to existing mechanisms. Tarvek’s reactions suggested that she had progressed more than she had realized.

“Well I certainly had the time,”
she conceded to herself. This was good, as it meant that she had more scraps to throw out that would keep the young Spark within her sphere of influence. To Lucrezia, it was patently obvious that Tarvek was an opportunist, one able to ideologically turn on a copper coin when circumstances warranted it, and she was well aware that she would command his loyalty only as long as she looked like she was going to win.

Lucrezia found that she actually enjoyed this. It was a refreshing change from the blind obedience of the Geisterdamen and she realized that once she started dealing with the various powers of Europa, they would be more like Tarvek than not. She was well aware that when it came to dealing with people, she was woefully out of practice.

She patted him gently on the cheek and smiled. He was also rather decorative. When she had the time, there were quite a few of the organic pleasures that she was determined to catch up on. “Of course, dear boy,” she assured him. “You’ll be ever so much more useful to me when…” she swayed, and Tarvek caught her by the shoulders.

“My Lady? Are you well?”

An alarmed Lucrezia shook her head. “I don’t know. I… I feel terrible.”

Tarvek sat her down, fished his watch from his pocket and took her pulse. He frowned. “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. Aside from a brief period of unconsciousness before you… ah… took over, this body has been without sleep for far longer than is healthy.” He closed the watch with a click. “You’re going to spoil it at this rate.”

Lucrezia closed her eyes, and had to force them open again. “Oh, that tedious sleep business. I can’t say I missed that. So silly of me to forget.”

Tarvek kept his face neutral, but he had to admit that these little snippets of information about Lucrezia’s previous state of existence were filling him with a burning curiosity, as well as a chilling sense of foreboding. What in the world had happened to her?

Lucrezia snapped back to attention. “But I am relieved. I had almost imagined that this body was rejecting me. Or even that the girl herself was fighting back.”

Tarvek looked at her sharply. “That’s impossible.” He paused. “Isn’t it?”

Lucrezia regarded him and frowned. “Oh dear. I do so mistrust it when ‘impossible’ is one’s initial reaction to an idea.”

She stared off into space for a minute. “Your sister—have they found her yet?”

Now Tarvek started to look worried. “No, my Lady. Your priestesses have not returned with her since last you asked, and you’ve already sent them all, so—”

Lucrezia felt a small jolt of fear. “When
did
I last ask?”

Tarvek again consulted his watch. “Ah—eleven minutes ago.”

Lucrezia swayed in her seat. “Oh dear. I think I do need a dose of sleep.” Then she sat up and delivered a brutal smack across her own face. “No! No, I must have this completed before Klaus’ terrier arrives. It’s such a perfect opportunity…” She turned to Tarvek. “Tell me, dear boy, can you mix me up some sort of stimulant?”

Tarvek frowned. “It’s against my better judgment, medically speaking, but yes, of course, my Lady.”

Lucrezia sighed in relief. “Good. Then I can—” and without any warning, she collapsed into a startled Tarvek’s arms.

“My lady?”

A small, girlish snore was her only response. Tarvek sighed, and with a grunt, he hoisted her up into his arms. “Marvelous,” he muttered. “
Now
what do I do with you?”

A hand reached up and grabbed his collar. He looked down to see Agatha glaring back at him. “Start by telling me what the heck is going on!”

Tarvek almost dropped her. “Agatha?”

The girl stared at him. “Yes?”

A wave of emotion crashed over Tarvek, catching him completely by surprise. He had accepted that Agatha was gone, gone forever, as he had been forced to accept so many other terrible losses in his life. Now that she was unexpectedly back, feelings that he had suppressed swept him up and threatened to overwhelm him. He hugged the surprised girl tightly to him, and whispered into her hair. “I thought you were gone.”

Agatha realized that she took comfort from the feeling of Tarvek’s arms around her, and relaxed slightly. “I think I was… asleep?” She pulled back and looked Tarvek in the face. “I was so… so angry. It was hard to wake up, but I knew I had to keep trying—what’s been happening?”

Tarvek didn’t even bother to calculate how this changed things. He gently set her down and answered honestly. “You’ve been… well, possessed, I suppose, by The Other.”

Agatha nodded slowly. Things were making sense. “My mother. Yes, I still am.”

Tarvek looked alarmed. “What? But—”

“She’s still in my head… pushing.” A disconnected look crossed her face. “Maybe I’m still dreaming…”

Tarvek grabbed her shoulders and gave her a shake. “No! This is no dream! You’re only awake because Lucrezia fell asleep.
You’ve
got to stay awake! I’ll help you!”

Agatha looked at him dreamily. “I don’t think I can. It’s so hard to think. Oh! Yes…”

With that she closed her eyes and began to hum a bizarre little atonal drone. A realization struck Tarvek that sent a shiver down his spine. “That’s… you’re
heterodyning
⁶⁴
,”
he whispered. “It’s real? It works?”

Agatha’s eyes snapped open. They were clear now. “It helps me think.” She sagged. “But I can’t do it forever.”

At that moment, Agatha’s little pocket clank stepped forward and chimed twice. Agatha looked at it and an idea burst into her head. “Yes! That would do it!” She scooped up the little device and gently twisted the little stem at the top. “Oh, you’re wonderful!” The little clank reveled in the praise.

Agatha swayed, and Tarvek caught her. “My Lady?”

Agatha looked at him from the corner of her eye. “My Lady now, is it?”

Tarvek responded smoothly, “Well… yes, you are the Lady Heterodyne, right?”

There was something suspicious about this, but at the moment Agatha couldn’t summon enough spare mental energy to care. “Whatever.”

She selected a set of tools and flipped open the back of the little clank. Her knees started to shake. Tarvek moved closer and slipped his arms around her. “Here,” he murmured. “Lean on me.”

Agatha nodded her thanks and resumed tinkering with the clank. Tarvek looked over her shoulder and marveled at the way her hands moved. He blinked. “What is it exactly that you’re doing?”

Agatha was silent for so long that he was afraid that she wasn’t going to answer him. But finally, she whispered, “I don’t trust you.”

Tarvek considered this. He also considered the warm body he felt within the circle of his arms and realized, suddenly, that he wanted her trust, wanted it more than he’d ever wanted anything. He sighed. “Can’t say I blame you.”

More silence, punctuated by the sounds of tinkering. “You’re working with The Other, aren’t you?” Agatha whispered.

Tarvek shrugged. “I’d hardly be free or alive if I wasn’t.” Agatha said nothing, but he felt a slight shudder run through her. With a start, he realized that what Agatha thought about him was important. That he had to explain himself. “If I can learn what she’s doing, I can learn how to reverse it. You must believe me… no one else can do this. No one else can stop her.”

“I want to trust you.” Agatha whispered.

Tarvek tried to sound sincere. He found it more difficult to do than usual. “You can.”

Agatha looked back at him over her shoulder. “We’ll see.” With that she flipped the case cover on the little clank closed. “Go on, you.”

After a moment, it saluted and scurried off. Tarvek made a half-hearted attempt to grab it, but found himself hampered by the girl sagging in his arms. “Wait!” He looked at Agatha. “What did you do?”

Agatha looked at him and a grin oozed across her face as she slipped further down into his arms. “Now,” she whispered, “You’ve got to trust me.”

Tarvek glared and shook her. “No! Don’t you go to sleep!”

Lucrezia opened her eyes and felt Tarvek holding her tightly. How interesting. “Ooo, Tarvek! You naughty thing! Are you taking advantage of a lady?”

Tarvek almost dropped her. “Of… of course not, my lady.”

She settled a bit deeper into his arms and smiled at his obvious discomfort. “What a pity,” She sighed. She frowned, and looked at him seriously. “Have they found your sister yet?”

Tarvek sighed.

Zeetha and Maxim trotted up to the rest of the group. Neither was breathing hard. “We ran around the whole castle.” Zeetha said. “None of the gates are accessible.”

Dimo scratched his jaw. “Gun be toff,” he admitted.

Maxim nodded. “Kent turn off dot lightning moat.”

Oggie felt he should contribute. “Kent fly.”

Krosp lashed his tail in frustration.

Lars stood up and dusted his hands. “We’ll just have to search for the secret passage.”

He became aware that the others were staring at him. “…What?” he looked at them in confusion. “They’re in all the stories.”

Several minutes later, they were, again, trudging through the city sewers. Krosp was miserably clutching onto Lars’ vest.

“You didn’t say it was in the sewers!” he hissed, his ears flattened.

Now that they could see them, it had to be admitted that as sewers went, the sewers of Sturmhalten seemed to be remarkably well-designed and maintained. Shortly after they had re-entered, they had found lanterns, as well as a collection of waterproof leather cylinders, which proved to contain well drawn, waxed maps of the system.

Large stone galleries were lined with walk-ways. There was no disguising the place’s purpose however. If the omnipresent smell wasn’t enough, now that they had sufficient light, they could actually see what it was that they were desperately trying not to step in.

Lars tried to ignore the more disgusting aspects of their surroundings, and looked for signs of secret passages. He felt a slight sinking feeling when he realized that subconsciously, he was expecting a small discrete sign with an arrow that said “secret passage.”

“Every good story about rescuing the princess from the castle of the evil Spark has a secret passage scene. There’s always an entrance in the sewers.” He muttered.

The others looked at each other and shrugged. It wasn’t like they had any better ideas. Lars halted and unrolled the map. He looked up and examined a small enameled metal sign that had been bolted to the upper wall. He checked the map again, and gave a small grunt of satisfaction.

“Okay, there should be something around here.”

Krosp stuck his head over his shoulder. “What? How do you figure?”

Lars indicated the map. “Not too close to the castle. Not too far. Close to the city gates for escape. Close to the armory and the main barracks to rally the troops. This place is rife with dramatic possibilities. It makes sense to put it here.”

Krosp stared at him and then waved his paws about in an impotent, but adorable, fury. “I can’t believe I’m listening to this! You expect to find a secret passage because of some idiotic stories?”

He no doubt would have said more, but there was a dry scraping sound, and a section of the far wall shivered, sending a cascade of dried material to the floor.

Krosp felt a hand grab the back of his collar and he was jerked back behind a buttress where the others already waited. He felt lips tickling his ear, and Lars breathed, “The thing you have to remember, is that everyone has heard the same stories.”

Zeetha sidled closer. “So what can we expect, story boy?”

Lars shrugged. “It depends. Could be a princess—”

The wall swung open and a clank, startlingly reminiscent of the long-lost Tinka stumbled out. Her eyes glowed with a blue fire. Immediately behind her came four worried looking retainers, carrying a bizarre container. “Hurry!” the clank whispered. “We haven’t got much time!”