Agatha H. And the Clockwork Princess (54 page)

The crew, who obviously hadn’t expected the door to give so easily, milled about in confusion for a moment. Several braver souls peered into the courtyard, and then turned back to their fellows with postures that, even from a distance, easily indicated confusion and surprise.

The waiting crowd, seeing that there was no resistance, began to surge forward.

Selnikov swept everything he could see with his telescope. “Nothing! There’s nobody in sight!” He collapsed the tube in on itself. “Something is not right,” he declared.

Anevka turned to the runners by her side. “Find my brother,” she ordered them. “Find him quickly!”

They darted off to spread the word through the increasingly chaotic crowd that was jamming into the defenseless castle.

About an hour later, a semblance of order had been restored. Anevka had ordered the cellar casks opened, and the majority of the crowd were standing about the courtyard with mugs of ale, congratulating themselves on a valiant attack.

Within one of the main dining halls, the early morning sun illuminated the great table and caused the gilt-covered walls to glow warmly as a temporary staff served cold meat and cheese to a core group of soldiers and staff that reported to the princess.

One of these was finishing his latest report. “—And the rest of the castle appears to be completely abandoned, your Highness.” Anevka listened to this with a growing nervousness. The sparse domestic staff that had remained behind after Anevka had escaped, had been found dead in their rooms.

The tension was broken by the sudden entrance of one of the searchers. “We found him!” He shouted, “We found the Prince!”

Anevka nodded in relief. “Yes? So where is he?”

The searcher looked distressed. “Ah—”

She leaned forward. “Is he all right?”

The man was obviously at a loss for words. “We… we didn’t want to move him. He’s…” He gave up trying to explain. “You’d better come.”

He led them down to one of the more isolated laboratories in the castle cellars. Racks of esoteric equipment hummed discordantly. Hanging from the ceiling, enmeshed in a nest of cables and tubes was Prince Tarvek. The large device he was connected to periodically rippled with waves of red lights. The crowd of searchers stared up at him.

“You see, your Highness? This is Spark stuff. We didn’t know what to do.”

Anevka nodded. She had to admit that she was at a bit of a loss herself.

Tarvek stirred, causing the onlookers to involuntarily step back. His eyes opened, and then focused on his sister. “Anevka,” he whispered. “Thank goodness you’ve come.”

Feeling the eyes of the crowd on her, Anevka warily stepped forward. “What happened, dear brother?”

Tarvek sighed. “Lady Vrin. She never trusted me, and she heard me talking to Veilchen.”

Anevka nodded. “I knew she’d be trouble. But where is everyone?”

Tarvek open his mouth, paused, and then glanced at the listening crowd.

Anevka nodded, turned, and clapped her hands. A slight adjustment to her vocal apparatus, and everyone hung on her every word.
“All of you. Leave us. Shut the door. Do not listen in, and let no one disturb us.”
As one, the crowd turned and silently filed out. A small tug on her lines made her turn to her bearers.
“Not you. Stand there and don’t listen.”
The four men assumed the bored, vacant expressions they habitually wore.

When the door closed, Anevka looked back up at her brother. “So where are they?”

“They’re gone. All of them. And they’ve taken all of father’s machines.”

Anevka stepped back and made the small clicking sound that indicated annoyance. “She got away? How inconvenient.”

Tarvek nodded. “They collapsed the tunnels behind them, and sealed the shafts to the Geister village.”

“So we have nothing we can show Klaus’ Questor? Nothing at all?”

Tarvek’s eyes widened. “Is he here?”

Anevka waved a hand. “Probably, but he’s keeping a low profile so far. I have people looking for him…” Her voice trailed off. She was obviously thinking hard.

After a minute, Tarvek cleared his throat. “Um… How about getting me down from here?”

This refocused Anevka’s attention upon him. She considered him for a moment. “No,” she decided. “I think not.”

Tarvek blinked. “Why on earth not?”

“Tarvek, be reasonable. The Baron’s man will be here any minute.” Anevka rolled her eyes. “I need someone to take the blame, and I’m afraid you’re the only one left.”

Tarvek’s jaw dropped slightly and he stared at her. He then surprised his sister by laughing admiringly. Anevka tilted her head to one side. “I must say you’re taking it well.”

Tarvek chuckled again. “Oh, Anevka, you really are amazing. I can’t believe how you’ve grown.”

Anevka folded her arms. “Is maudlin sentimentality supposed to make me feel guilty about killing you? Because if it didn’t work for Mummy—”

Tarvek shook his head. “Of course not. But I can assure you that you shan’t have to worry about dealing with the Questor.” Easily a dozen armed Geisterdamen stepped out from behind various devices. “Or anyone else, really.”

Anevka whirled and saw that her band of carriers was surrounded, effectively trapping her. “What is this?”

Lucrezia stepped forth and grinned. “This, dear girl, is a change of plans.”

Anevka ignored her, and spoke to her carriers. “Be ready to move, gentlemen.”

Lucrezia smirked. “Oh surely you don’t think they can stand up to my priestesses?” As one, the assembled Geisterdamen hefted their swords.

“Of course not. My boys are strong, but they’re not dangerous.” Idly her hand drifted up to the speaker at her throat and twisted a dial. “That would be me.
SLEEP!
”

This last command boomed out through the room, and with a sigh, every one of the pale women swooned and fell to the floor. The only exceptions were Vrin, who only kept her feet with visible difficulty, and Lucrezia herself. After a shocked second, Lucrezia whirled to face Tarvek. “You gave her my voice?” she shrieked.

Tarvek looked impressed. “And did a better job of it than I’d thought.”

“Oh don’t be so smug,” Anevka hissed. “It still didn’t take out Vrin.”

That worthy arose from the side of the priestess she had been examining. “Of course not!” she sneered. “I am not some first rank priestess able to be manipulated by voice alone. I know my Lady!” She raised her sword and leapt forward. “And I know my duty! Die, monster!”

Her sword swept down, and was stopped dead when Anevka caught it in a steel hand. “I don’t think I shall,” Anevka said airily. Her other hand reached out and closed about Vrin’s throat. “I am a very well-made monster.” An electric blue flare crackled about Vrin’s neck and head, and the Geisterdamen collapsed to the ground.

“Vrin!” Lucrezia looked furious as her ally toppled to the floor.

Anevka lazily examined her smoking hand. “Oh, don’t worry. She’s probably not dead. Yet.”

She now looked directly at Lucrezia and took a step towards her. “So what do you think of my outfit? It’s my ‘Heroine of the City’ costume.”

She took another step, and Lucrezia took a step backwards. “Oh I’m sure you’ve heard stories like it: ‘The Valiant Princess, who, when all seemed lost, rallied the people and took revenge upon her father’s vile murderer?’” She took another step. “That’s you, by the way.”

Lucrezia took retreated another step and discovered that she had backed herself up against a bank of machinery. Anevka shrugged. “The people love that sort of thing, you know. Why, I expect to see an opera based on the story within the year.”

She took a moment to examine the white uniform she wore. She turned towards her sibling. “You’re the one who knows about clothes. I think a large, dramatic splash of red will really set this off, don’t you? Be honest now.”

Tarvek looked at her over his spectacles. “A minute ago you were going to throw me to the Baron.”

Anevka tilted her head. “That was then, brother, this is now. Do try to keep up. Father always said that if providence provides a convenient, powerless scapegoat, it is a sin not to use it.”

Tarvek caught Lucrezia’s eye and shrugged. “Father was not what I’d call an exemplary roll model,” he confessed.

Lucrezia darted sideways and snagged a sword from the floor. She hefted it experimentally.

Anevka paused, and rolled her eyes. “Another sword? Oh but you and your priestesses really are relics, aren’t you?” She moved forward. “Well if that’s the best a poor old thing like you can do—”

With a snap of her arm, Lucrezia threw the sword. Anevka didn’t even have to dodge as it flew past her.

“That was truly pathetic,” she said.

Lucrezia smiled, and crossed her arms. “Technically, I think the word you want is tragic. It’ll make a fine opera. Probably the highlight of the third act.”

A tugging upon Anevka’s hoses made her turn in time to see the carrier who had been skewered by Lucrezia’s flung sword, begin to topple sideways, dropping the pole of her catafalque.

“NOOOOO!” she screamed as she lunged for the falling container. “Hold me!” She ordered the remaining retainers, who were already trying their hardest, “Hold me up!”

Anevka managed to stabilize the container and began to set it down just as Lucrezia, a new sword in hand, strode up behind her. “Stupid girl,” Lucrezia gloated, “I’m doing you a favor! Don’t you know that in all the best operas, the heroine
dies?
”

She swung the sword. Anevka felt a slight tug, but was still able to lash out with a backhanded swipe. It connected just enough to send a pulse of current into Lucrezia that threw her back into a pile of canisters, knocking her unconscious.

Anevka felt a small wave of dizziness, but she scrambled to her feet and grabbed the fallen sword. When she saw Lucrezia’s supine form, she laughed as she strode towards her.

“Still breathing, eh? It’s certainly time to fix that”

Just as she came within reach, Tarvek yelled from above; “Anevka! Voluntary disengage!”

With a shudder, Anevka found herself locked up in mid-stride, sword upraised. There was a panicky moment before her internal gyroscopes kept her from tipping over sideways.

“I can’t move!” Her voice grew more strident as she began to panic. “Tarvek, what’s happening? I can’t move!”

“I know.” From the corner of her eye, Anevka saw Tarvek twitch his wrist, and with a whine of servos, he was lowered to the ground. With a hiss, the cables and hoses attached to him fell away.

He took a moment to polish his spectacles. Anevka knew that this as a sign that he was faced with an unpleasant task.

“Well, I can’t say that any of this mess was part of my original plan,” he mused as he gingerly stepped through the supine Geisterdamen. “But it’s all working out so beautifully that I can’t complain.” He drew up to Anevka and looked past her. “One last thing before we get started; your attendants.”

The remaining three men froze. None of them were terribly smart, but even so, they realized that the body count for the last three days was getting excessive. Even for the Sturmvarous family.

Tarvek raised a hand to calm them, and they flinched. He sighed. “Anevka, order them to go to sleep.”

Anevka wanted to say many things, but found herself saying, “
Attendants. All of you go to sleep now.”

With a sigh, the three men slumped to the floor and began to snore.

Tarvek leaned down and repositioned one of the men’s arms into a more comfortable position. “Well I’m glad
that
worked. Replacing all of them would have been inconvenient.”

“Tarvek!” Anevka screamed. “What have you done to me?”

Tarvek straightened up with a sigh. “When I constructed your body, I made sure that it would respond to my direct commands.” He shrugged. “I never needed to utilize it, until now.”

“But why do you need it now? I was about to kill this usurper!”

“That you were,” he muttered as he began dragging the sleeping attendants off and leaning them against the closest wall.

“And what are you doing with my attendants? I need them!”

Tarvek straightened up. “Well, that’s just the thing.” He came up behind his sister. “You don’t, really.” He picked a limp hose up off the floor and showed it to the frozen girl. “Lucrezia cut your cables. She must have thought it would shut you down.” He dropped the hose. “I didn’t want your bearers thinking too much about the fact that it didn’t”

Anevka’s mind reeled. “My cables… But this body is just a puppet.”

Tarvek nudged another of the cables with his foot. “Of course, I could tell those idiots you were powered by elf magic and they’d believe it.”

“With my cables cut, I… I shouldn’t be able to…”

“Although, all I really have to do is get you to order them to forget all about it.”

“
Tarvek!”
Anevka sounded terrified. Unseen by her, he cringed and looked ill. “Tarvek, what’s
happening
to me?”

He almost put his hand on her shoulder, but stopped himself with an effort. He grit his teeth. “I’ll tell you.”

As he talked, he began unfastening various buttons and snaps, and removed Anevka’s fur coat. “After father put my sister Anevka through Lucrezia’s damn summoning engine, it was clear he had failed yet again, and that she was dying.”

His hands shook slightly as he removed her wig, and a note of remembered fury echoed through his voice. “Of course,
then
he was sorry. He almost went to pieces.”

Tarvek paused, took a deep breath, and went on dispassionately. “I needed him rational, so I built you.”

He removed her tunic, and folded it neatly. “Originally, this body was indeed simply a puppet run by my sister…” Tarvek paused, “But even from the beginning, you were something more than that.”

He looked over at the catafalque, with its quietly humming fans. “Nothing I did could save my sister. But you… learned from her, and as she faded, you did more and more on your own.” He sighed and his voice shook slightly as he stared at a single glowing red light on the container’s side. “In the end, you never even noticed when she died.”

Anevka’s voice was as plaintive as a lost child’s. “You’re trying to trick me,” she whispered. “I’m not dead.”