Agatha H. And the Clockwork Princess (48 page)

The carriers were obviously hard used, and were puffing and sweating. One of the rear men glanced back and shrieked, “Highness!”

From the open wall, five pale figures leapt to the ground. They caught sight of the princess and the lead Geisterdamen pointed. “Tikka zok!” she screamed.

“—Could be a monster,” Lars finished.

The clank girl whirled and yelled back, “Voda za! Shibbak!”

Everyone looked at Lars. He shrugged. “Could be both.” Then he shook his head. “But those are Geisterdamen. In a
town
. I’ve never even
heard
of that happening.”

Dimo gnawed his lower lip. “
I
iz more interested in der doll gurl. She iz speakink like a Geisterlady, bot she hez miz Agatha’s voice.”

Krosp hissed. “They might know something about her. But which side—”

Oggie patted him on the head. “Ho! Dot’s
easy
, poozy cot!” With that he straightened up and stepped out into the open between the two groups, who froze. He gave each a big smile and waved genially. “Hey dere!” he called out cheerfully, “Who vants to be my friend?”

Several seconds passed, and then all of Anevka’s retainers shot a hand into the air and waved frantically. At this, all of the Geisterdamen raised their swords and with a yell, leapt forward.

Ognian nodded in satisfaction. “See? Now ve know who to fight!” Two of the pale women darted straight for the Jäger, who brought his halberd up horizontally and braced himself.

From the shadows behind him, Maxim and Dimo surged forward, leapt onto the halberd, and used it to boost themselves up and over the two attacking women, who were so distracted by this, that Ognian was able to take out one with a vicious kick that broke the Geisterdamen’s neck. The other quickly recovered and stabbed at Oggie in a blind rage, which was probably why she didn’t see Zeetha slide from behind the Jäger and punch her sword through her.

The third Geisterdamen was closing in on Anevka when Maxim sailed in from above and cleanly decapitated her. Dimo landed between the last two and while managing to stab one, was unable to stop the last from driving her sword into his chest. The shock of the thrust threw him back and he dropped to his knees. The pale woman followed up swiftly, sword ready for the final stroke, when another Geister sword erupted from her chest. She froze and then dropped, while Anevka pulled the sword from her body.

She calmly examined her rescuers with evident interest. “Jägermonsters,” she declared. “Of course. You must be looking for the Heterodyne girl.”

For a horrible moment the Jägers and Krosp thought that the secret was out, until Lars nodded and said, “Yes! That’s right! The girl from the Heterodyne show! Do you know where she is? Is she all right?”

Anevka’s eyes narrowed and she nodded slowly. “I do. She is a prisoner in the castle. She was fine the last time I saw her…” Her head jerked. “But now you must all come with me! Quickly!”

Lars pointed towards the entrance through which she’d emerged. “Through here?”

Anevka shook her head. “That would be extremely foolish.” She pointed at the dead women on the ground. “This was merely an advance party. Those tunnels will be swarming with Geisterdamen.”

Dimo had been listening at the entrance, and he hurried up. “She gots dot right,” he informed them. “Dere’s lots of pipple and odder tings comink.”

Lars looked stricken. “But—”

Anevka pulled him and the others began to move at her insistence. “I can get you into the castle. But not this way!”

Quickly they dashed down a short corridor until they found a rusty ladder. Behind them, they heard someone discover the dead Geisterdamen. Thanks to the efforts of the Jägers, they were able to boost up Anevka’s container, and the rest climbed quickly. At the top, they pushed aside a large iron door and found themselves in a municipal storage vault that held spare paving stones. The only way out was an ornate iron gate, which was securely locked. As Maxim swung the heavy door closed behind them, Anevka fished a set of keys out from a pocket, and after some fumbling, found the one that snapped the ancient lock open. They darted through, slammed the gate shut and relocked it, just as the grate in the floor began to rattle alarmingly.

It was only when they had managed to dash around a corner out of sight did they pause. Zeetha stepped over to Dimo, who was letting Maxim examine his chest wound. The Jäger was obviously annoyed that he had been hit. “You going to be okay?”

Dimo waved his hand impatiently. “Iz honly a scratch.”

Maxim smacked the wound with the back of his hand, causing the green Jäger to flinch and then curse. Maxim grinned. “She heet a bone. Iz mebbe cracked. Bot heez a tuff guy.” He continued. “Iz gunna be a bit rough for a day or two, so dun go round tryin’ to impress der ladies.”

Dimo snarled. Zeetha smiled and headed back to the others, to find they were already talking.

“Okay, your brother killed your father. So that makes him the new Prince?” Lars summarized.

Krosp interrupted, “And you really think he’s planning to take on Baron Wulfenbach?”

Anevka nodded sadly. “I’m sure of it. The Geisterdamen and their creatures were tools of my poor father. Tarvek controls them now.”

Ognian shrugged. “Makes sense. Dere ain’t been a decent rebellion against der Empire in vhat—two years?”

Maxim joined them. “Three. Dot magnetic prince guy. He kept der Baron busy for two whole months.”

“Dot vas only becawz all der compasses got messed op and dey kept gettink lost,” Oggie pointed out.

Both of the Jägers shook their heads. In their professional opinion, no one had come out of that conflict looking particularly good.

“But, jah, der Empire’s due.” He smiled ruefully. “A pity ve’s gunna miss dot, dem Geisterladies might be fun in a schtand-up fight.”

Zeetha scratched her head. “But, why did he kidnap Agatha?”

Lars looked at her askance. “Is that a trick question?”

Krosp nodded slowly. “Maybe it
is
a trick question.” Lars looked surprised. Krosp continued, “But not for the reason the meathead thinks it is. If this Prince Tarvek is about to launch a rebellion against the Empire—well that’s not something you do at the drop of a hat. It’s complicated. You need a plan. The last thing you’d want to do is throw in a… a random kidnapping the night you set things in motion.”

Zeetha frowned. “By that logic, the reason he started his rebellion today was because he had Agatha.
That
doesn’t make any sense.” She looked at Krosp and the Dimo, who were looking at each other worriedly. “Does it?”

Anevka broke in. “There is always a use for a Spark. My father collected girls with the Spark whenever he found them. I imagine my brother is continuing this repellent practice. It does not help that your friend is rather good looking. I do so hope my brother can control his vile appetites.”

She noted with satisfaction that her words had steered their imaginations into realms of speculation that were more alarming than accurate. That would have to do for now, but it was obvious that these people… especially the cat… person, were too dangerous to be allowed to live. But perhaps their deaths could be useful… if only one of them would drag their mind out of the gutter she’d suggested—

“You said you could get us into the castle,” said Krosp.

Well done, faithful animal companion.
“Indeed I can,” said Anevka gratefully. “There are many tunnels under the town. We always kept a few hidden, even from the Geisterdamen, I doubt even my brother will be so reckless as to give them
all
the family secrets.” They came to a corner and paused. The town was still eerily quiet, although there were a few dimly glowing windows now. They had to get off the streets.

“We will proceed to the home of my loyal friends, Lord and Lady Selnikov. They have long harbored fears of what would happen to the town were my brother to gain total control. I will be safe with them, and from there I will be able to secure you supplies and guides will be able to get you safely through the sewers, into the castle, and lead you to the controls for the lightning moat.”

“What about you?” the annoyingly smart cat asked.

Luckily, here she was back to the original plan. “I will rally the town and the army. When the moat comes down, we will take the castle. This evil must stop.”

The cat stared at her. “The Baron is sending a Questor. Once he sees what’s going on here, he’ll send a fleet. Why fool around with storming the castle yourselves?”

When this was all over, she really hoped this creature was still alive. She’d keep it in a cage, poke it with sticks, and bring it to all of the planning sessions.

“The last thing I want is the Baron thinking that I cannot administer this town on my own. If I crush this rebellion myself, he has no cause to usurp my right to rule.”

Krosp nodded and to Anevka’s surprise, looked relieved. She realized that the cat, at least, must know that Agatha had no wish to encounter the Baron or his representatives.

Lars spoke up. “It’ll all boil down to partisan loyalties then. Are you sure that the townspeople and the army will rally to you instead of your brother?”

Anevka gently touched her newly re-tuned voicebox. “Oh yes. Everyone in Balan’s Gap
will
do what I say.”

Several minutes later, one of Lord Selnikov’s under-cooks was stumbling towards the back door of the kitchens. Before he got there, another set of blows landed on the far side, rattling the dishes.

All right! All right!” he shouted. “Keep your hair on!” Grumbling mightily, he threw the great deadbolt, and heaved on the iron-bound door. “You must be new,” he said as the door groaned open. “We don’t accept deliveries before—”

The heavy door pushed into him and he stumbled back with an oath. Furious, he grabbed a broom and turned back to find a monstrous, green face leering at him from scant centimeters away.

“Bot dis iz a
very
special delivery!”

A jolt of fear surged through him as a crowd of people pushed into the kitchen. One of them called out, “Hey! Dere’s food!” —And instantly, most of them fell upon the remains of last night’s banquet. The under-cook was aghast, if only because, by tradition, this was the morning staff’s breakfast that was being devoured before his eyes, and he knew who was going to get blamed for it. He raised the broom—

“Stop!” A tall girl with green hair snagged his sleeve. “I’d step back, if I were you. Those are Jägermonsters and animals eating there.” Krosp waved his paw in acknowledgement. “How smart do you think it would be to get between them and food?”

The under-cook paused, remembering the face at the door. It was said that if you interrupted a Jäger at dinner, you’d be the dessert.

He saw Lars industriously carving himself a slice of roast swan. “Hey! What about that guy?”

“He’s an actor.”

This, the under-cook knew how to deal with. “I’d better go hide the silver.”

He turned to go and found himself face-to-face with a bemused Princess Anevka, who was supervising her bearers as they gingerly edged her catafalque through the smaller doorway. In his panic, he executed a perfect curtsy. “Forgive me, your Highness!”

Genially, she waved aside his apologies. “It’s quite all right, my good fellow. It’s been awhile since
I
wasn’t the strangest thing in the room. Now fetch your master.”

With a quick bow, the under-cook took off like a shot.

Less than three minutes later, a very stout man clad in a lavish, ermine-trimmed dressing gown burst, huffing, into the kitchen.

He had been quite muscular once, and there was still some evidence of this under the fat that now swaddled his frame. He had a small dapper moustache that was sadly out of place on the broad, square face. His features revealed that he was obviously related to the Royal family from somewhere in the not-too-distant past. “Princess Anevka!” he gasped upon seeing her and her entourage. “It
is
you! Are you all right?”

The Princess shut the recipe book she’d been idly thumbing through, and tilted her head in amusement. “Quite well. Especially now that you are with me in all of your sartorial glory, Lord Selnikov.”

The older man glared at her as he straightened his outfit. “Some of us were a bit rushed this morning.”

“My apologies. But there has been a small shakeup in our plans.” She took his sleeve and headed for the door. To the others she said. “Eat up, my friends, I must bring his Lordship here up to speed.”

Lord Selnikov now saw what was depleting his larders (as the remains of the banquet had been quickly disposed of) and his protests and demands to know who and what those filthy creatures were, easily kept Anevka from having to say anything until they reached his Lordship’s private study, at which point she forcefully told him to shut up. He did.

“Last night my father found an actress with vocal harmonics identical to those we’ve been trying to duplicate.”

Selnikov sat down in surprise. His mind considered the possibilities.

“She controlled an entire theatre full of people. They responded just as though she were The Other. Once we had her, Tarvek was able to adjust my voice to match hers, perfectly.”

“Astonishing.” He thought for a moment. “And the effect upon the Lady Vrin and her people?” His Lordship may have looked like a carousing oaf, but he still had a sharp mind, when he was goaded into using it.

“Alas, my voice alone is not enough to control Vrin, and the effect on the ordinary priestesses leaves much to be desired.”

Selnikov frowned, and pulled the head off of a stuffed hawk with a “pop,” revealing the mouth of a bottle. He poured himself a large dollop of brandy. “That’s inconvenient,” he muttered before emptying half the glass with one swallow.

“Indeed, but there was no time to investigate the problem, as I barely escaped with my life.”

Selnikov started. “What?”

“The Lady Vrin has decided that this girl is, in fact, their lost Holy Child, and thus my vocal experiments were, in effect, blasphemy. She was very touchy about it.”

“What about your father? Surely he could talk—”