“It was the Time of the Final Prophecy, beyond which even Our Lady could not see. We were to prepare for The Great Battle, even though we knew she would be taken from us.
“But still we had hope. For we had been given a task. Our only task, the reason we had been created. We were to protect the Holy Child. Protect her from those whom we knew would try to steal her away from us.
“We knew when they would come. We knew what they would do. We knew their powers and abilities—”
Vrin paused. Agatha could see that she was shaken by these memories. The two Geisterdamen reached out and touched her shoulders in support. She took a deep breath and continued.
“And yet, knowing all that, we still failed. We failed utterly. The enemies of our Lady were too strong. Our Lady was taken from us and the Child had been stolen. There were no more prophecies. It was The End of History. The end of our world.”
Vrin stared bleakly at Agatha in silence. Then, astonishingly, she smiled. “But when your world ends, apparently a new one glides in to take its place. The sun rose. The stars wheeled across the sky. Sisters realized they were getting hungry. So… we sat down and ate. It was the last meal and the first.
“We bid farewell to the dead. We rebuilt The City of Silver Light. We welcomed New Children. We worshipped the Lady, because we had never worshipped anything else. Perhaps, wherever she was, our prayers would help her.”
Vrin took a deep sigh. “And then, our prayers were answered. They were answered with rage and fury. With pain and fire. Our Mistress did indeed return. This time, she appeared in her most terrible aspect, The Lady of Sharp Crystal, who had not been seen for over fifty generations. She purged the High Priesthood with the burning light when she learned that we had failed to protect the Child. She purged the Commanders. The Artisans. We feared she would purge us all.
“After the burning, she embarked upon a Great Building. Nonstop we worked. Almost two hundred of our sisters died before she was finished. Then came the greatest punishment of all.
“Three thousand of The White Elite were selected. Warriors, scientists, adjudicators, facilitators—none of the clans were spared. We were assembled and then marched through the One-Sided Door and exiled here, to The Shadow World.”
Vrin looked tired now. “Our only task is to search this wretched place until we find the missing child.” The other two Geisterdamen again gently stroked her shoulders. Vrin reached up and softly patted their hands. “We have been here… through fourteen winters now, with no one we could trust but ourselves.”
She released the other women’s hands and leaned towards Agatha. “Even if we found her, I… suspect we will never be allowed to return to the City of Silver Light. No one ever returns through the One-Sided Door, though many swore they would try. We will die here.” Suddenly, she straightened up and her gaze hardened. “But if we do succeed, our sisters back home may once again see The Lady in her Joyous Aspect, and once again live in happiness.”
Agatha paused, but that seemed to be the end. “There’s a lot of that I don’t understand.”
Vrin stood up, and a sardonic smile briefly crossed her face. “Hardly surprising. Apparently here in The Shadow World, one’s Gods rarely show up on a daily basis.” She glanced at the surrounding cell. “I cannot say I blame them.”
Agatha thought. “But what does—did Prince Aaronev have to do with all this?”
Vrin hesitated, and then shrugged. “In this world, the Lady was known to the people as Lucrezia Mongfish.” She paused, but Agatha resisted the temptation to interrupt.
Vrin nodded approvingly. “She had many allies. Some secret, some not. Prince Aaronev was always amongst the foremost of these. He was one of the leaders of a cabal of Sparks and their followers. All of them he pledged to Our Lady’s service. As a reward, he was entrusted with her most sacred devices.” Vrin paused. “He was really killed because of you?”
Agatha nodded. “He had placed me in some sort of machine. Anevka didn’t want it activated.”
Vrin shook her head. “I must confess,” she admitted ruefully, “I had never fully… trusted him. Apparently I did him a great disservice. I know that some voices in his Order grumbled at serving Our Lady. They claimed that furthering her agenda was not a part of their original charter or some such. With Aaronev gone, I do not know whether the Order’s loyalty will fade as well. Some embrace The Lady, but…”
She sighed and leaned back. “But his children are our biggest threat now. Anevka anyway. Tarvek is annoying, but spineless.” She looked around the cell. “It would be simpler to stay in here forever.”
Agatha puffed a lock of hair out of her face. “You may get your wish.” She waved the lockpick. “Any of you want to have a go at this?”
Vrin shook her head. “None of us are artificers. I think you’d have better luck giving it to your little contraption.”
Agatha sat back and looked at her. “That’s not a bad idea!”
She squatted down before the little clank, which looked at her curiously. She held up the lock pick. “Here! Can you use this to get out of here?”
She handed the tool to the clank. The clank took the pick and examined it with interest. Then it dashed over to an iron drain grate in the stone floor. It jammed the end of the pick under the grate and with a twist, popped it off the floor. Then, with a sound that sounded suspiciously like “wheeee”—it dropped down into the darkness, taking the lock pick with it.
Everyone looked blankly at the hole, but nothing happened. Vrin looked at Agatha reproachfully. “I wasn’t being serious,” she said.
At that moment, there was a “chunk,” from the door, which swung open. Standing in the dim light stood Tinka.
She stepped forward. “Mi—mi—Miss Clay must come—come—come with me now. Y—y—you others stay—stay here, please.”
Agatha and Vrin looked at each other. “The guards,” Vrin said carefully. “Where are the guards?”
Tinka’s head jerked towards her. “They—they are sleeee—sleeping.” Her head snapped back to Agatha. “Miss Clay wi—wi—will come with me n—n—now.”
Vrin nodded reasonably. “Of course. Eotain. Shurdlu. Smanga tik tik.”
With a sudden burst of speed, the two Geisterdamen bracketed Tinka and grabbed her arms. The mechanical girl swiveled to look at each of them in turn. “Oh. You—you—you are very fast.”
“Zoda hoy,” Shurdlu affirmed.
There was a bright blue flash and the two spider riders dropped senseless to the floor. Tinka snapped forward and her palm smacked against Vrin’s forehead and delivered another electric shock before the woman had taken two steps. As she collapsed to the floor, Tinka turned to Agatha. A thin wisp of smoke came from her outfit. “Now they—ey—ey will sleep too.” She stepped closer to Agatha. “Miss Cl—Cl—Clay will co—come with me now.”
Agatha nodded. “All right. But first…” She deliberately took a minute to lay the stunned Geisterdamen into more comfortable positions before she accompanied the mechanical girl out of the cell. Tinka paused to twist the key in the cell door lock.
Agatha saw three uniformed men, who were obviously guards, slumped upon the floor. Tinka went to the far door, looked out, and then beckoned Agatha to follow.
Despite Tinka’s jerky movements, they moved silently through the surprisingly empty halls. Earlier, there had always been a servant going somewhere or doing something, but now, it seemed like they were the only living things moving through the castle. Agatha regarded the Muse with a slight feeling of dread.
Agatha felt a rush of relief when they stopped at an ornate door and Tinka knocked softly. The door opened to reveal Tarvek, who beamed upon seeing Agatha. Tinka tried to perform a curtsey, but banged her head into the doorframe. “Hi—high—Highness. I—I—I have brought her.”
They stepped into the room and Agatha gave a start as she saw—“Moxana!”
The automaton gracefully nodded towards her. Tarvek practically clapped his hands in glee. “Ye
s! Isn’t she marvelous?” He gestured to the other mechanical. “Tinka went out of the castle, found your circus, and brought her back here—all by herself! It’s extraordinary!”
Agatha looked at the malfunctioning clank with mixed feelings. “Tinka and Moxana were always close.”
Tarvek nodded. “Having Moxana here will make repairing Tinka ever so much easier. Especially—” and here one could see that there was a very real possibility that Tarvek would combust from sheer glee—“She even brought me some of Van Rijn’s notes!” And to Agatha’s shock, he produced the battered folio that Moxana had given her.
“That was in my wagon!” she protested.
Tarvek ignored her. “I’m going to find the other Muses. I’m going to rebuild them all!”
Agatha turned to Tinka. “But,” she asked. “Why? Why did you bring him Moxana? Master Payne said you were stolen. These people damaged you.”
The mechanical nodded. “T—th—that was unfortunat—t—te. But soon all will be—be—be well. Because while here I learned that Prince Tarvek isssszzz—erk! The one we—we—we were made for.”
Agatha turned to Tarvek. “Made for?” She shook her head. “If they were made for anyone, they were made for The Storm King.”
Tarvek paused, and then shrugged modestly. “Yes, well, I am The Storm King.”
On the face of it, this was rather analogous to someone admitting that he was the White Rabbit of the Equinox. Agatha decided to treat Prince Tarvek the way that she always treated Professor Rollipod back at the University49.
“Do tell!” She cooed. “That’s very nice! Would you like some juice, your majesty?”
Tarvek looked at her with a tired annoyance. “Stop it. I don’t think I’m old Andronicus Valois. But I am his direct descendant, through my mother, which is why my last name isn’t Valois. The lineage has been guarded and preserved by the Sturmvarous family for ten generations, and if you keep looking at me like that, I’ll make you sit through a recitation of the entire genealogy.”
Agatha couldn’t stop looking at him, but she tried to do so differently. If true, this was astonishing news. There hadn’t been a Storm King for almost two centuries. Occasionally, one appeared in some of the more obscure Heterodyne Plays, but they weren’t popular, if only because too many people found the idea of a new Storm King to be too implausible.
Tarvek continued, eyeing her carefully. “It’s quite the family secret. You can imagine what would happen if it got out. But apparently these two—” he indicated Tinka and Moxana, “—Trust you, so I shall as well.”
Agatha nodded slowly. “I think I know something about having explosive family secrets.” She paused. The memories of what she talked about at dinner were weirdly distorted, but accessible. “That is, if I still have them…”
Tarvek looked embarrassed. “Of course you do. I won’t tell, my sister wants you dead, and no one will believe the servants.”
Agatha analyzed this, and was not completely reassured. Tarvek ran what he’d said through his head and came to a similar conclusion. “A living Heterodyne heir is too important to risk. But even if you weren’t a Heterodyne, I…” He looked at her earnestly. “I’d want to get you as far away from my sister as possible.”
Agatha nodded gratefully. “Won’t there be repercussions from her having… killed your father?”
Tarvek looked uncomfortable. “Quite possibly. It depends how perspicacious the Baron’s Questor50 is, but Anevka can be very…convincing.” Seeing Agatha’s face, he tried to dispel the mood. “But that is not your problem. My father’s unexpected death has placed me under some obligations that I must deal with as soon as possible51.”
Tarvek continued. “Tinka will guide you out of the castle.” He pulled an official looking note from an inner pocket of his coat. “This will insure that you are conveyed safely back to your friends at the circus. My father sent them packing early this morning, but I managed to have them detained outside of the city walls.”
Agatha took the note. “I’d better get there quickly. They’ll be very worried. You won’t have problems with your sister, will you?”
“Will I have problems with my…” Tarvek’s mouth quirked upwards. “You must be an only child. My sister will be furious, of course. But she requires maintenance, and for that she needs me. She’ll scream and throw things and demand that I let her kill someone, but the servants know to stay away from her at times like that.”
“That’s… good?” Agatha ventured.
Tarvek sighed. “In our household, that’s as good as it gets.” He stared at nothing for a moment, then visibly pulled himself together. Now, when he looked at Agatha, she was struck by the air of authority he displayed. “But by the Law of Succession and the Right of Inheritance, I am the Prince of Sturmhalten now. Protector of Balen’s Gap and Defender of the East. My sister will be controlled. As for you…” He considered Agatha as if he had never seen her before.
Agatha found herself flushing slightly under his scrutiny. Then, to her astonishment, he bowed. “Allow me to be the first to formally acknowledge you as the future Lady Heterodyne. It is my sincere hope, when everything is settled, that you would consider returning to Sturmhalten.”
Agatha’s eyebrows went up. “Returning?”
Tarvek smiled. “Oh yes, with a Heterodyne back in power, we’ll want to strengthen political ties with Mechanicsburg. But more importantly…” Here he faltered at bit and rubbed his neck. How annoying, he was acting like a tongue-tied schoolboy at his first dance. “I… um… I mean I personally… I would very much like it if you… came back… here… and wanted to aid me in reconstructing the Muses.”
“Me?” Agatha was startled. “Why me?”
Tarvek gently patted Moxana’s chair. “Moxana claims that you are a very strong Spark. I myself have found you intelligent, personable, quite comely—” Tarvek reddened as he realized what he’d said. “—And unlike my sister, or indeed most of the Sparks I have met, refreshingly sane.” Most of the last of this came out in a bit of a rush.
Agatha regarded the young man. To her surprise, she realized that his recitation of her assets had pleased her excessively. Again she felt a tingle run down her back. Working closely with Prince Sturmvarous could be interesting. Any mechanic with a scrap of curiosity would jump at the chance to work with actual Muses. She frowned. She did have to consider the realities of the household however. There was no question that Anevka was very dangerous. Tarvek seemed to sense her thoughts.
“I’m not saying stay now. In fact, I insist that you get as far away as you can from my sister’s influence for the moment. Give me time to work on her.” He smiled. “You’d only have to come back when you thought it was safe. If you’re really worried, I’ll build you a… a death ray or something.”
Agatha went slightly weak at the knees and she had to take a deep breath. “I… I think I might like that,” she said carefully.
Tarvek beamed. “Wonderful!” He gently took Agatha’s elbow. Another tingle ran up her arm from where his hand touched her skin. “But now, I’m afraid, you must be going, and I have things that must be done.”
Agatha took a step towards the door and then stopped. “Wait! What about the Geisterdamen?”
Tarvek frowned. “What about them?”
Agatha paused, unsure how much she wanted to reveal. She spoke carefully. “They claimed to…” Oh dear. How awkward. The word “worship,” while accurate, would no doubt lead to a very complicated discussion. A discussion Agatha realized that she would have to have, but possibly, not when she should be fleeing for her life from a mechanical homicidal maniac. “…know my mother.”
Tarvek frowned. “Yesss… I had heard a little about that, but I never really paid attention…” He looked at Agatha. “If Lucrezia Heterodyne was your mother…” He blinked. “Good lord. You must be this… child person they’re always going on about. Fascinating.” He pondered this for a second, and then forcibly shook himself, and again took Agatha’s elbo
w. “Rest assured that I’ll take good care of them. I’ll definitely try to find out a bit more about this… mythology they’ve built up. But now you really must be going!”
Agatha saw the sense in this, and soon Tinka was leading her through the now gloomy corridors of the castle. Tinka carried an ornate hand-cranked electric candelabra, that served more to distort the shadows and keep Agatha on edge than light their way. She tried to make conversation.
“It’s so quiet,” she whispered. “Where is everybody?”
“Most of the ser-servants are con-confined to the servant wing-ing-ing. The old P-P-Prince is dead. There are… pro… pro… procedures that must be observed. Tinka continued. “Prince Tarvek will take care of it. All will be well-ell-ell.”
Agatha had her doubts about the simplicity that Tinka seemed to take for granted. “I really think it’s a good thing that I’m leaving.”
“Our Prince agrees.” Tinka nodded and her head fell off. Her body took another step, froze, and then toppled forward to the carpet. Agatha gave a small scream of surprise.
From a shadowed alcove, the three Geisterdamen stepped forth, Eotain casually wiped her blade clean on the curtain. “Forgive us for taking so long to find you,” Vrin said with a slight smile.
The three didn’t look like they were going to attack her. Agatha pointed at the Muse’s head. The eyes blinked frantically. “You didn’t have to do that.” She looked at them again. “How did you get out?”
“Thanks to you.” Vrin brought her hand out into the light. Agatha’s small pocket-watch clank cheerfully waved the lock pick when it saw her. “Your little automunculous apparently went down the drain, climbed back up outside the cell door, and opened it from without.”
Agatha felt odd. “Oh good,” she said weakly. “It worked.”
Meanwhile Shrdlu had picked up Tinka’s head and brought it to Vrin. Tinka’s eyes were still blinking, and the mouth moved. Faintly, her voice could still be heard. “Miz-zirk—no—no—get away—zt! Now! Clax—!”
Vrin casually dropped the head to the floor. Agatha winced. “Where was this thing taking you?”
Agatha H. And the Clockwork Princess Page 31
