by Phil Foglio
Agatha, meanwhile, had slotted the piece in place and was now grinning disturbingly at the results. “Oh yes, yes, yes, yessss,” she crooned. “It is sooo ready.”
Tarvek and Othar looked at it and took a step back. “Yeah,” Tarvek said, “that ought to do it.” He glanced upwards. “Or you could just blow Castle Wulfenbach out of the sky.”
Othar clapped his hands in delight. “An excellent suggestion, young apprentice!”
Tarvek ignored this. “Except, of course, that Gil is still up there.”
“Even better,” Othar declared.
Tarvek briefly considered this, then reluctantly admitted, “But he still has my notes.”
General Gkika folded her arms. “Hokay, zo vhat do ve do next?”
“It’s time to head for the Observation Tower.” Everyone looked down the main avenue. At the far end stood the Observation Tower, but clustered about its base was a full array of assorted Wulfenbach weaponry. “Ha!” Agatha laughed. “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem now!”
So saying, she swung the device up onto her shoulder and squeezed the trigger. A lance of destructive energy spat out from the tip, burning through the assembled Wulfenbach machinery, and struck the base of the tower, causing it to blow outwards in a shower of masonry. With a slow, oddly graceful motion, the tower collapsed to the ground, burying or blocking the rest of the Wulfenbach forces.
There was a brief silence while everyone tried not to look at Agatha. Van stared at the rubble aghast. The only thought in his head: It was on all of the postcards.
Moloch was the first to speak. “How is it possible that this surprised any of you people?”
Agatha took a deep breath and turned to Van. “So . . . ” she said brightly, “Do we have any other tall buildings near the Castle?”
“—that you’re not too attached to.” Moloch added. Violetta poked him in the ribs, but not very hard.
Van looked like a man who had nothing else to lose. “Oh sure. How about the Red Cathedral spire? Or the Doom Bell?”
Agatha considered them. “Not high enough, not close enough.”
“I wasn’t being serious!”
Ognian tapped the enhanced lightning stick. “Vhat hif you forgets about der Kestle and just schtart zappink efferyting else?”
Van grabbed him by his vest and shook him. “You’d better not be serious either!”
Agatha answered him anyway. “I’d run out of charge long before I got enough to make a difference. Besides the whole point is to save the town, not flatten it. And the Castle would still be dead.”
Othar stroked his beard. “If altitude is all you need, young Wulfenbach has helpfully provided us with a flying machine. ’Twould be so very trés ironic!”
Tarvek went pale. “Never mention that bucket of bolts in my presence ever again.”
“Does the Lady Heterodyne need to go flying?” a booming voice asked from on high. They all looked up, and there was Franz perched on a roof above them, eyes glowing. The other dragon’s golden helmet sat jauntily askew on his head. “I can fly you higher and closer than any building in town!”
Agatha’s eyes widened with delight. “That would be perfect!”
Van checked her with a gentle hand. “Franz, you can’t fly!”
Frank shifted. His short, stubby wings fluttered behind him. “I can too fly.” A defiant tone had entered the dragon’s voice.
“You can’t!”
“I CAN,” Franz roared. Then he shrugged. “I just . . . you know . . . cheat a little.”
Said “cheating” took the form of an elaborate flying machine that resembled nothing so much as a giant bicycle attached to a pair of propellers. It certainly looked improbable, but now, at full power, Franz’s legs pumped the pedals with sufficient speed that they were soon aloft. Agatha rode behind him, clutching the spines on the dragon’s back and whooping with delight. “It’s wonderful,” she cried as they swooped over the town. “I think you fly very well indeed!”
Franz grinned and pumped a bit faster. “Master Barry made it for me. He said the old system with the birds and the kites was just too silly.” They swerved past an astonished Wulfenbach balloonist. “How close do you want to get?”
“I’ve been thinking about that. Can we actually land on the roof of the Castle?”
“Do you need to be that close?”
“I might. I think that those antenna atop the Castle are lightning collectors. That would be pretty standard, and yet the Castle is almost out of power. I can’t believe it hasn’t been hit by lightning on a regular basis, it’s the tallest thing in town. That means the collectors must be damaged. Unless I fix those, hitting it with more lightning won’t do anything.”
“Huh. Makes sense. Okay, the roof it is, Mistress.”
They flew on in silence for a minute while Agatha looked over the town. It didn’t look good. “Franz, how long have you served the Heterodynes?”
Franz grunted. “A pretty long time. A couple of hundred years, I think. I lose track when I’m sleeping. Why?”
“Have you ever seen it this bad?”
Franz shook his head. “Nope. Not like this. Well, even if it doesn’t work like it should, this lightning thing should keep ’em busy while you make your escape.”
Agatha sat back. “You mean run away?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“I wouldn’t—”
“Why not?” Franz interrupted. “Too proud? You could give ’em a good rant before you run, you know. Lots of Heterodynes have done it. They were always getting beat back, thwarted, foiled. That’s why you rule Mechanicsburg but not the world. Sometimes you gotta know when to set a few time-delayed death traps and run. Rebuild your power. Show ’em all another day. It happens.”
“I . . . I can’t do that. The old Heterodynes . . . my ancestors . . . whenever they were beaten back, they came here. No one could take Mechanicsburg. That was their strength. If I run away now and lose Mechanicsburg, I—we—we have nowhere to run to.”
Franz considered this. “Maybe Notre-Dame’s still got some openings in the Gargoyle Squad?”141
Agatha swatted him on the back of the head. “Keep flying!”
They swooped down onto the highly pitched roof. Franz landed with a grunt and a clatter that broke scores of ancient roof tiles and sent them skittering over the edge. The wind and rain were fierce. Franz kept his arm out to steady Agatha as she examined the base of one of the great aerials. She pried open a corroded hatch and gave a cry of satisfaction. “Ha! I knew it! There’s a row of connectors that have been tripped and should have been reset.” She snapped them into position one-by-one and closed the hatch. “Let’s get to the other one.”
Laboriously they crawled across the top of the tower. Agatha pried open the other panel. “Looking at all the gunk inside these panels, I’m guessing they must have been overloaded when the Castle was damaged all those years ago!” One of the switches showed signs of corrosion. Agatha chipped away at it until she could snap the switch back into place. I’ll be back to clean all of you, she silently promised them as she tightened the fasteners on the covers. She sat back on her haunches and nodded in satisfaction. “I can’t believe no one ever checked them.”
Franz shrugged. “If the Castle never said anything, and the masters weren’t here . . . ”
“Well, they should work now.” She glanced up at the rain clouds overhead. “Probably a good thing that tower collapsed,” she said primly. Franz snorted in amusement.
“Agatha!” They both jumped as Gilgamesh Wulfenbach called out from behind them. Turning, they saw Gil standing in the bow of a steam pinnace airship, hovering scant meters away. He stood in the bow, one hand on the fore-rope, the other outstretched towards Agatha. When he saw he had her attention, he flicked at the controls with a foot, and the ship gently surged forward. “Come aboard,” he called out. “Quickly! You’ve done your best, but the town has fallen. It’s over. I’m getting you out of here.”
&nb
sp; Agatha reached for his hand automatically, then slipped and skidded down the dark, wet roof tiles. With a grunt, she was stopped by one of the dormers that lined the edge of the roof. As soon as he saw Agatha was safe, Franz glanced at Gil and saw the expression on his face was not fear, but annoyance. “Hold still,” Gil said, as he leapt from the ship. “I’ll be right there.”
Before he could advance, he found himself facing an immense green hand that blocked his way. “Whoa,” the dragon rumbled. “Hold on, you. She’s okay. I’ve got her.”
Gil went unnaturally still. While keeping an eye on him, Franz gingerly slid his tail back and allowed Agatha to brace herself on it and begin clambering back up. “Careful, m’Lady. Something ain’t right about this guy.” As soon as Agatha was in a secure position, he reached forward. “C’mere, kid. Lemme have a better look at ya.” As the dragon’s hand approached, Gil waved his own hand and a large hypodermic appeared, which he drove into Franz’s palm.
“OW! What do you think you’re . . . ” Franz suddenly wobbled and then collapsed to the roof, sliding several meters before he stopped.
“Franz!” Agatha knelt beside the great head. One beachball sized eye drunkenly rolled towards her. “Ooorg,” he said.
Furious, Agatha glared at Gil, who was picking his way towards her. “What have you done to him? He wasn’t going to hurt you, he’s one of mine!”
Gil waved this aside with a coldness that Agatha found jarring. “It’s only a sedative. He’ll be fine. But I don’t have time to argue with him, or you. Come with me! Now!” Imperiously, he extended his hand.
Agatha stared at it, and then up at Gil’s unrecognizable face. “No.” She scooted backwards. “You stay where you are.”
Conflicting emotions flickered across Gil’s face, settling into an expression evidently supposed to pass for “concern.” “You can’t be serious. The storm is getting worse! We can’t stay up here!”
“Yes! Fine! Get yourself down to the town square. Find Tarvek and Van. You can help them and be out of the storm. We’ll talk when I’m done here.”
“Agatha, you’ve got to listen to reason! This has all gone too far!”
“No. Not yet. I’m not finished here. I haven’t given up and I’m not leaving this town.”
Gil stared at her, and then swept his hand out. “The town? Look at your town! Your town is in flames! And very soon, all of Europa will follow it. I’ve explained everything to my father! He understands! He can help you! If you keep trying to solve this yourself, the Other will win. We’ll be back to the days of constant warfare! Don’t you understand? Mechanicsburg has fallen! What else do you think you can do?”
Agatha felt a wave of pure wrath wash through her. She raised the modified lightning stick above her head and snapped the main switch. “This!” The heavens opened, and the lightning struck the Castle towers.
Over and over again, bolts lanced down and struck the towers with a boom and a crackle that could be heard throughout the town, even above the sounds of battle. In point of fact, the battles paused as the pyrotechnic display continued.
On a rooftop normally occupied by a beer-garden, Agatha’s compatriots watched with awe. Professor Mezzasalma stroked his chin and nodded in satisfaction. “Yup. That should do it,” he declared.
Violetta leaned towards Moloch. “What will it do?”
Moloch turned towards Vanamonde von Mekkhan. “That’s a good question. What will it do?”
Van stared at the mechanic perplexed. “I thought it was obvious. The lightning should revitalize the Castle, and then it will take control of the town’s defenses.”
“Yeah, I’ve been wondering about that.” Moloch looked out over the town and tried to not see it as a town. “How much do you people know about what the Castle can really do?”
Van opened his mouth—and then paused. This man was the Lady Heterodyne’s chief minion. He might be new to the job, but just having been chosen to it meant that he saw things other people overlooked. Van looked out over the town and bit his lip. “I’m . . . I’m not really sure. My grandfather is always saying I’ve never really seen what the Castle could do at its height. Earlier today, thanks to the Lady’s repairs, it was collapsing streets. Activating bridges and traps. Things like that. But so much of what it used to be able to do has been forgotten.”
Moloch rubbed his forehead. “Yeah. I was afraid of that.”
“Afraid?” Van felt a premonition of doom settle softly upon his shoulders. “Why?”
Moloch waved at the Castle, still wreathed in lightning. “How long did it take to build the Castle?”
Van shrugged. “Centuries.”
Moloch continued to look at him, and Van felt compelled to elaborate. “But the core? The recognizable structure and the instrumentality needed to allow the Castle entity to function? About ten years, more or less.”
Moloch nodded. “The Baron has been keeping a series of the most whacked-out sparks in Europa locked up in there for over fifteen years. They’ve been replacing and repairing and improving the place, following the Castle’s orders with no questions or supervision. Getting what it thought was important fixed.” He stared out over the town. “I’m telling you that it’s been operating on nothing but the dregs of its back-up power for the last couple of years, and it was still able to control all that stuff in the town?” He gave Van a look that Van was growing to recognize as the man’s default state of resigned bleakness. “I’m sayin’ you got no idea of what it’s capable of now.”
Van absorbed this and looked back up at the lightning display. “There . . . there’s no place we could possibly run to, is there?”
Moloch shrugged. “Figured you people were used to that sort of thing by now.”
Atop the roof, Gilgamesh flinched as the shingles sparked and crackled around him. “Agatha,” he screamed. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”
Above him stood Agatha, surrounded by a small sphere of force that the lightning struck again and again, the bolts rebounding off to strike the accumulator towers. Her hair stood out from her head, and the metal in her outfit sparked furiously, but she stood unharmed and resolute. “Of course not,” she screamed back. “How can you possibly underestimate me like this? You were the one who supported me! I’m doing what you said you knew I could do! I’m keeping myself, my town, and all of us alive and free!” A particularly well-timed bolt hit the sphere and split into two white-hot lances that struck the towers simultaneously. “Any way I can!”
Gil’s brow lowered and his voice took on a not-unfamiliar timbre. “It is too late for that! Listen to yourself! You’re out of control! What if the Other has already usurped your mind and you haven’t even noticed? You cannot be allowed to run free. Not like this! I— My father will never risk a full return of the Other— or anyone like her!”
Agatha stared down at him. Fury and betrayal rising quickly within her. “Now? You say that now when I am on the cusp of securing the safe place you said I needed? You, who said you were prepared to risk anything?”
Deep within Castle Heterodyne, within the Great Movement Chamber, a final circuit closed, and the cavernous room glowed blue from the field of fully recharged Bagdad salamanders. Machinery dormant for almost two decades jerked and began the laborious process of self-repair and retuning. The Castle now had its guiding mind at full clarity and all of the delicious power that it could possibly need-and more kept coming. The repairs went quickly.
Gil clenched his hands in fury. “I am risking everything! I’m doing so by insisting on keeping you alive! I have seen what you can do! You’re dangerous! As a tool of the Other, you could destroy Europa!”
“You’re assuming I’ll let her win. I have friends now. Allies. I counted you amongst those, but you can be replaced, if it comes to that. I have ideas, information. My mother’s lab, and now, I believe, I have my fortress. If you and your father want to help me, you can do it here. In Mechanicsburg. On my terms. I won’t be anyone’s tool. Hers, his, or yours!
”
With a final crescendo, the lightning stopped. The rain began to noticeably taper off. Gil’s face seemed to reflect an inner debate, but he shook it off as he reached into his coat. “We’re all tools,” he said as he tossed a small item out towards Agatha’s feet. It struck the sharply pitched roof and with a clack and stuck in place. “You’ll get used to it.” The device bloomed and a ring of light appeared. From above, a trio of metallic voices chorused. “Hunt mode activated, quarry set.” Three of the Castle Wulfenbach gargoyle sentinels142 dropped onto the roof, surrounding her.
“Clanks,” Gil called out, “your orders: take the quarry alive! Do not let her fall!”
Agatha spun towards the closest machine moving gingerly towards her. “Clank! Receive new orders!” She tossed it the lightning rod. “Hold this!” As she tossed the rod, she unhooked a cable, and when the clank caught the rod and attempted to compensate for the unexpected weight and momentum, she held the exposed end to its forehead. Instantly there was a bright blue flash and the gargoyle jerked in place before collapsing to the ground. The other two devices pulled back slightly as Agatha caught the rod as it fell from the gargoyle’s nerveless fingers. Before they could again advance, she swung the rod downwards like a golf club,143 smacked the focusing device, and sent it soaring out into space. The two clanks’ heads swiveled to track it as it vanished, and then leapt off of the roof to follow it.
Agatha thumped the end of the rod down onto the roof. “Seriously? That was all you brought?” She peered down at the rain-slicked roof and realized it was empty, just as Gil’s hands clamped onto her upper arms.
“Now I take you home.” For a treacherous moment, Agatha almost allowed herself to surrender, but . . . this . . . his hands felt wrong. She felt a peculiar movement from the hand on her left and tore her glance away from Gil’s face in time to see the small device he was attempting to get within the grasp of his fingers. She stomped on his foot with the heel of her boot. The pain caused him to relax his grip enough that she could swing the lightning rod up far enough to smack him across the forehead. The device flew from his hand and clattered to the ground far below, showering sparks as it rolled away.
