by Phil Foglio
“I knew that!” Agatha responded defensively.
The other Jäger turned towards them. “He’s shtill secure.” He jerked a large thumb over to the other side of the pit, where the door that Agatha had used to enter still swung open. “She came in throo dot idiotic secret door. Dey gots to get rid of dot ting. Vell, let’s just keel her.” He turned towards Agatha. “Ve ain’t suppozed to let anybody in here,” he said apologetically.
“Fiends!” roared Othar. “Kill her and I’ll tell the Baron!”
“Vell mebbe ve keel you too, schmot guy.”
The other Jägermonster began to look troubled. “Gorb…”
“Vat?”
“Gorb, dis iz turnink into von of dose plenz… The kind vere ve keel efferbody dot notices dot ve’s keelink pipple?”
Gorb deflated slightly. “It is?”
The other Jäger nodded and slung a friendly paw over Gorb’s shoulders. “Uh-huh. Und how do dose alvays end?”
Gorb muttered, “The dirigible is in flames, everybody’s dead, an’ I’ve lost my hat.”
His friend smiled. “Dot’s right! Und any plan vere you lose your hat iz—?”
Gorb struggled for a second. “A bad plan?” he ventured.
That earned him a slap on the back. “Right again!”
“Look—” Agatha broke in impatiently, “How about you don’t kill me, and I won’t mention that you let me get in.”
Gorb looked troubled. “But…”
His companion beamed. “Hoy! Excellent! Vut a schmot gurl!”
Gorb spoke up. “Stosh, you mean dis iz vun of dose plenz vere ve dun keel hennybody?”
Stosh nodded glumly. “Yop. ‘Fraid so.” He turned to Agatha and leered. “Zo, howzabout I ezcort hyu beck to you qvarters, Meez—?”
“Clay,” she responded automatically. “Agatha Clay.”
The Jägermonsters stared at each other in astonishment. Gorb looked sheepish. Stosh smacked him in the head. “See? See?” he roared. “Dis iz vhy dot ‘keelink evverbody’ plan iz no goot! Hyu never know, now do hyu?” Another smack on the head.
“Know what?” asked Agatha.
Stosh and Gorb spun to face her. “Ve has orders regadink a meez ‘Agatha Clay.’”
There was something different about him. About them both. With a chill she realized what it was. Nothing she could actually point a finger to, but they weren’t… funny anymore.
“O… orders? What orders?” she asked. A tiny analytical part of her brain wondered how much of their daily behavior was an act put on to put those around them at ease.
Stosh shattered the mood by whooping and sweeping Agatha up over his head. “I gots to take hyu to a party!” And with a loud “Wheeeee!” scurried off with her down the hall.
Othar and Gorb stared after them for a moment until Othar sighed and remarked conversationally, “No one ever takes me to parties.”
Gorb looked at him and smiled. “Ve haff our own party. Hyu ken be da piñata!”
After being rushed along several halls, Agatha realized exactly where the Jägermonster was holding her and demanded loudly to be put down. He did so with a laugh and they proceeded onwards.
“Zo. Agatha Clay, hyu iz da gurl who helped Master Gilgamesh fly smek into General Khrizhan’s qvarters?”
“Well… I…” she saw the look of amusement in the soldier’s eyes and gave up any thought of pretense. “Yes.”
“Heh heh. I bet he vas sooprized. So vat heppened?”
“Your Master Gilgamesh was doing the steering, and he…” she paused, and grudgingly amended her narrative, “we didn’t look where we were going and plowed right into the Castle. We smashed through the wall into your general’s room. He was sitting in a chair reading a book and we skidded right into him and he reached out with one hand and WHAP—”she clapped her hands, “we stopped dead. Can you believe that?”
Stosh’s face was filled with wonder. “You saw him do dat?”
Agatha nodded. “Amazing, huh?”
The Jägermonster just shook his head. “Reading a book. Da tings hyu gots to do ven yous a general.”
“HALT!” The order came from behind them. They turned to see a Lackya hurrying up to them.
Agatha turned to look at her companion and saw that he looked… stupider. It was something about the face…
“Vot hyu vant?” he asked the footman. The newcomer drew himself up and sniffed disapprovingly at the soldier.
“There was an intrusion in one of the Baron’s labs. Equipment was damaged. I am to bring in all personnel that I find in this sector.”
The Jägermonster slowly scratched his jaw while glancing at Agatha. She realized that she was acting nervous and forced herself to relax. “Vos de Baron hurt?”
“No one was hurt, but valuable equipment was damaged, and we were ordered to find the culprits.” Unseen by the footman, the Jäger’s mouth twitched upwards approvingly.
He slowly turned back. “Hovell, den itz not impawtent. Schtuff break all de time. Goot luck.” He turned to Agatha. “Letz go.”
The footman darted forward, reaching for Agatha. “You will both come with me now!”
Agatha did not see the Jäger move, but suddenly the footman’s hand was grasped within the soldier’s paw. The footman hissed, exposing fangs that caused Agatha to take a step back in surprise.
“I dun gotta answer to hyu,” the Jäger said lazily, “and dis gurl iz vit me, so hyu dun gotta vorry about her needer.”
The footman’s arm suddenly twisted and his hand was free. The Jäger was surprised, but covered it instantly. The footman smirked. “All personnel in this sector includes—”
The Jäger interrupted him. “To be ‘personnel,’ hyu gots to be ‘person.’ I is Jägerkin, vitch is better. Vere as hyu is jumped-up lackey boy mit delusions of authority.”
The footman began to vibrate and started hissing. His eyes swiveled towards Agatha. “You will come with me—”
Agatha took a step backwards, and felt her hand deftly tucked into the crook of the Jägermonster’s arm. “De lady has chosen. Now ve gots to be goink.”
The footman stood and stared at them until they turned the corner. Agatha looked at the Jäger beside her. He was obviously thinking hard. “You won’t get in trouble, will you?”
Stosh looked at her in surprise and grinned. “Trouble?” His tongue shot out for a quick raspberry. “The Lackya are veak.” He glanced back at Agatha. A troubled look crossed his features. “But dey is vindictive. Vatch out for dem. Ve do not know how dangerous dey is yet.”
“You don’t?”
“Mm. De Baron inherited dem ven ve smacked down de Gilded Duke last year. Dey is zuper-engineered sqvirrels or zumting. Dey gots to serve somebody, so de Baron has dem delivering messages and annoying pipple. He keeps dem busy.”
Agatha nodded. “Ah, like he took in the Jägerkin after the Heterodynes disappeared.”
Stosh grabbed her and swung her about until they were faceto-face. “Iz not like dot at ALL!” he roared.
He would obviously have said more, but a large door next to them opened, and the massive form of General Khrizhan filled the doorway. “Vot iz dis shoutink?” he rumbled.
Stosh snapped to attention. “Dis iz Mizz Agatha Clay, who smells verra nize, but tinks der Baron iz kippink uz like dose poncy useless Lackya.” He thought for a moment. “Sir,” he added.
The general stared at Agatha through narrowed eyes. “She sees dot, does she?” He stared for another moment and then closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “Thank you, Stosh, I vill talk to her. Beck to hyu post.”
Stosh grinned triumphantly at Agatha. “Hah! Hyu tell her, sir!” With that he wheeled about and strode off.
Agatha and the general looked at each other for a moment, then the Jägergeneral pushed the door open further. “I tink dat der are tings ve should tell each odder, Meez Agatha Clay. Pliz to com inside.”
It was a different room from the one that Agatha and Gil had crashed through
earlier. It was smaller and cozier, with a large ceramic stove warming the room. An enormous brass samovar hissed upon a table. Agatha glanced at it and saw, to her shock, that it was decorated with naked female demons. Trying to find someplace else to set her eyes, she discovered that all of the walls were filled with paintings and drawings of a similar nature. She settled for staring at her shoes, realizing belatedly that she did not want to examine the pattern on the rug underneath them too closely.
General Khrizhan coughed, and Agatha thought he sounded embarrassed. “Hy must apologize for the decor. General Zog does not belief dot age, or de dignity of his office, should interfere vit a rich fantasy life.”
“Dose are memories, Alexi, un don hyu forget it!”
Startled, Agatha’s head snapped up and saw two other creatures entering the room. The one that had spoken was shorter than General Khrizhan, but was obviously older. The fur that covered his body was snow white, and his teeth were yellow and uneven in his mouth. His clothing looked like it belonged, not to a soldier, but some sort of barbarian warlord. Despite his evident age, however, he moved with a fluidity that Agatha found hard to follow. The effect was startling.
The last creature was the oddest of all. For one thing, he was gigantic, even next to General Khrizhan, towering a full four meters tall. His mouth was easily a meter wide and filled with what appeared to be hundreds of small sharp teeth. Thick brass goggles hid his eyes, and a small brass dome, scratched and battered by the passage of the years, appeared to be screwed directly onto his skull. His large hands ended in small, delicately clawed fingers. General Khrizhan gestured towards them.
“Dis iz General Zog—” The ancient Jägergeneral nodded his head while keeping his eyes locked on Agatha.
“And dis iz General Goomblast.” The tall monster executed a perfect courtier’s bow that he had evidently been practicing for the last three hundred years.
His voice was a surprisingly pleasant contralto. “And dis must be de Meez Agatha Clay dot made such an impression on our compatriot. Velcome.”
General Zog spoke up. His voice rasped and buzzed like his voicebox was constructed from shoe leather and horn. “Vas hyu involved in dis trouble in der Baron’s lab?” he asked.
Agatha looked at the three creatures. Would they know if she lied? Agatha didn’t lie, as a rule. If for no other reason than she had discovered that she wasn’t very good at it. “Well… it was an accident,” she confessed. All three of the generals broke into huge grins.
“Ho!” Zog slapped her on the back, almost sending Agatha into a wall. “En exident!” He leaned in and spoke confidentially. “Vun ting de Jägerkin understand is dat krezy exidents heppen, right, boyz?”
“Hoo boy, yaz”
“Dot’s de trooth.”
Agatha could well imagine. “Yes, that’s all very good, but why am I here?”
General Khrizhan opened a large cabinet and pulled out a small chest that Agatha recognized with a start as one from the Clays’ home in Beetleburg. Opening it up she discovered—”My clothes! My stuff!”
General Goomblast nodded. “It vas collected ven you vas taken from Beetleburg. Somehow, it vas mizplaced, und ve just discovered it. Ve thought hyu vould vant it as soon as possible.”
Agatha nodded happily, but as she repacked the outfits, her movement slowed and her brow furrowed. “Yes… but you could have just sent them to the dormitory.”
General Khrizhan shrugged as he fiddled with the controls on the samovar. “Oh. Yaz, I suppose hyu is right. Oh vell. Vould hyu like sum tea? To make op for de inconvenience?”
Agatha realized that she was hungry again. How could that be? “Oh, I…”
“Ve effen t’row in sopper.”
“But I…” Agatha’s stomach growled. “Supper?”
General Goomblast offered her a silver platter piled high with warm tea cakes. Agatha could see that some were stuffed with custard and jelly, sprinkled with nuts and topped with a thick sugary glaze. Some appeared to be covered in thick chocolate, and a few were evidently stuffed with fruit. A second plate appeared, covered with warm pastries that Agatha could smell were stuffed with savory meats and baked cheeses. “Iz goot! Ve not eat bugs. I svear!”
General Zog looked at his plate disappointedly. “No bugs?” General Khrizhan shushed him with a glare.
Agatha smiled nervously and graciously plucked a small meat pastry from the tray and gingerly nibbled at it. Onions and spices she was unfamiliar with suffused her mouth and she let out a muffled, happy squeak. It was delicious. Intensely so. In three bites it was gone.
General Goomblast was obviously pleased. He poured her a cup of tea and gestured towards the platter. “Hyu like? Take anodder.”
Agatha looked longingly at the platter, but the manners that Lilith had drilled into her stayed her hand. “Oh, I couldn’t—” she began, but was stopped by General Zog’s reaching forward, tilting the platter, and dumping half of the cakes upon Agatha’s plate.
“Degorl is starffing,” he said conversationally as he put the tray back down. Turning to Agatha he said, “In enemy territory hyu neffer know ven you is gonna eat. Don’t pass up an opportunity.” With that he scooped up the remaining cakes in one hand and dumped them into his mouth.
General Khrizhan took a deep breath and smiled alarmingly at Agatha. “General Zog has been a varrior longer dan any uf us. He see sefferyting in terms of…practicality.” He gestured at Agatha’s plate. “Dis doz not mean dot he iz wrong. Please eat up.”
General Goomblast had stared at the empty platter for a second, sighed in disappointment, and from a sideboard produced an enormous cake pan. Lifting the lid allowed the spicy odor of gingerbread to begin filling the room. A crock on the table was opened, revealing its contents to be thick yellow whipped cream. The large creature showed Agatha how to stir a spoonful into her tea, which, he informed her, came from a friend of the Baron’s in China.
After some steady eating, Agatha felt herself starting to relax, a fact the three Jägers noted.
“Zo, my dear Meez Clay,” Goomblast began while refilling her cup, “vere iz hyu family from?”
Agatha looked at him warily. “Beetleburg?”
“Iz dot so? Mine people still liff in Mechanicsburg.”
“Ah. The Heterodynes’ home. Of course. I’ve never been there, but I always wanted to go.” Despite her reservations, the very inanity of the topic was reassuring, Agatha found herself relaxing and discussing the various merits of different towns. Off to one side, the other two generals quietly sipped their tea and observed.
General Khrizhan leaned closer to the older Jäger and muttered behind his hand. “Vot you tink?”
General Zog glanced at him and snorted. “Hy don gotta tink.
Hy knew ven hy smelt her clothing.” He considered Agatha with
a scowl. “Could be a forgotten second cousin, or a by-blow…”
“A by-blow? Dem?”
Zog smiled at his colleagues’ astonishment. “Dey vas hooman.”
Khrizhan nodded reluctantly. “De kestle vould know,” he said quietly.
Zog shook his head. “De kestle iz mad. Dyink. Useless.”
Khrizhan’s shoulders slumped. “Den it iz op to us.” He leaned into the conversation, which had come to a lull. “Tell us about you parents.”
Instantly a wall of suspicion slammed down behind Agatha’s eyes. “My father’s a blacksmith, and my mother gives piano lessons. I’m worried about them,” she admitted.
“Yez. Dey haff disappeared und ve cannot find dem. Dey obviously do not vant to be found, but dey vould vant to know dot hyu vas safe, jah?” Khrizhan shook his massive head. “Iz qvite puzzling.”
“They’re probably hiding,” Agatha admitted. “They don’t… trust the Baron.”
Goomblast waved a hand dismissively. “Who does? Ve’s used to pipple hidink. Vat’s strenge iz dot we cannot find dem.”
Agatha absorbed this information and deliberately reached for another tea cake. There
were few left. “These are very good,” she said, and smiled at Goomblast, who frowned at her in annoyance.
General Zog, who had been pacing around the room, dropped into the chair next to Agatha. He smelled like ancient leather boiled in vinegar.
“Zo,” he said brusquely, “hyu vent flyink mit der young master.” He leaned closer. “Vot hyu tink of him?”
Agatha flushed. “Well…” she struggled for words. As she did so, the general’s nostrils flared, and a smile crossed his features. General Khrizhan’s hand smacked the back of his head, sending Zog’s fez flying.
“Vot kind of schtupid qvestion is dot?” Khrizhan roared.
“Vell it vould make tings really simple if—”
“I know vat hyu is tinking! Bot hyu ain’t tinking tinking!”
“Tinking iz overrated!” Zog roared, and tapped his nose. “Dis tells me—”
Khrizhan grabbed Zog’s vest and shook him violently. “Be qviet you idiot!”
Agatha scrunched down in her seat as the generals roared about her. Two delicate furry hands effortlessly scooped her up and deposited her before the door. “I tink hyu better go,” General Goomblast muttered.
Agatha picked up the box with her belongings. “Did I say something wrong?”
Goomblast smiled at her in what he thought was a reassuring manner. “No, no, madam waz qvite charmink. But ve gonna haf a leedle discussion now, and dey can get kind ov loud.” He opened the door and called out, “Minsc!”
A tall Jägersoldier with a particularly toothy grin appeared and snapped to attention. “Yezzir?”
Goomblast pushed Agatha forward. “Dis iz Meez Clay. See dot she’s get beck safely to—”
A scream of rage from within the room was all the warning they got as the samovar caromed off of the back of the general’s head. Spinning about, Goomblast’s head appeared to split in half as his mouth opened wider than Agatha would have thought possible. A scream like tearing metal filled the hallway and the Jägergeneral leapt back into the room, slamming the door behind him. Minsc grabbed Agatha’s arm and dragged her down the hall. “Ve go now,” he advised.
The sound of breaking furniture followed them down the hall, until there was a sudden final shattering of glass and then silence. Minsc turned to Agatha and grinned. “Zo. Vere to, dollink?”
