Agatha H and the Voice of the Castle

by Kaja Foglio

  “Ah, no,” Gil said distractedly. He walked to the workbench and started to clear a space. “The name’s a bit of an understatement, actually.”

  Agatha followed him. “He’s going to burst into flames?”

  Gil swept piles of long-unused debris off the bench. “Well, probably. There’s a small chance he’ll just melt.”

  Agatha made a choked, miserable noise deep in her throat.

  Gil winced. “Of course, there’s always a chance that he’ll be perfectly fine,” he added.

  Agatha looked at him hopefully. “Really?”

  Gil nodded confidently. “Oh, yes. If we assume that this is an infinite universe, then theoretically, anything, no matter how unlikely, has to happen somewhere.”

  Agatha looked sick. There were tears in her eyes. Gil was puzzled… that always comforted him…

  “Castle, could he have contracted this here?” Agatha asked.

  The Castle’s voice echoed around them. “Hmm…possible. There is Vipsania Heterodyne’s Cabinet of Contagion, and, of course, the Ghostmaker Mice…”

  “Well,” Agatha said, “knowing my ancestors, there must be a poison pharmacology around here somewhere.” She turned to Gil, “I assume most poisoners have antidotes to hand.”

  “Your ancestors weren’t terribly concerned about antidotes…” the Castle said, “but you may certainly search for one, if you think you have time…”

  “See?” Agatha pounded the table with both hands and shouted at Gil. “This place—this is why I want you out of here!”

  Gil wasn’t budging. “No way. Anyway, there won’t be an antidote, it’s more of an illness than a poison. But he didn’t get it by mistake, not even in here. Violetta is right. Someone got him with this on purpose.”

  “Sir?” Von Zinzer and Violetta stood in the doorway, carrying a canvas sheet full of jumbled bottles and tools. “Found the stuff you wanted, except the hammer.”

  Gil glanced at Tarvek. “Pity.” He turned back. “See if you can find some Hypatia’s Clove. The red kind.”

  Von Zinzer nodded and ran back out. Agatha, Gil, and Violetta began setting the bottles out on the bench. Von Zinzer appeared again, a glass canister held in his hands. “Bad news, sir,” he said simply. “There was a jar marked ‘Hypatia’s Clove’,” he held it up, “but the stuff inside is yellow.” He glanced at it. “Nearly white, really.”

  Gil pinched the bridge of his nose. “Well, of course. Everything here is nearly twenty years old. Most of it won’t be any use at all!” He groaned. “This isn’t good.”

  Agatha shook her head. Even though Gil seemed to hate Tarvek so much, he wouldn’t just let him die…would he? “Gil—you’ve got to take him back to the hospital. I…I don’t think I can stand losing any more friends.” She laid a hand on his uninjured shoulder. “Please.”

  Gil clenched his jaw. “He is not going to die.” He swung around to von Zinzer and Violetta. “Have either of you ever assisted in a Si Vales Valeo system-transferal procedure?”

  The two stared back at him blankly. “I’m a mechanic,” von Zinzer said. “If he was a clank, I could maybe change his oil…”

  Violetta gently shoved him aside. “Never heard of it, but we can follow instructions if you tell us what to do.”

  “Wait.” Everyone looked at Agatha. “I’ve heard of that…” She thought furiously. “Si Vales Valeo…” Her eyes went wide. “That’s that horrible reanimation process from Krakow! That kills people!”

  Gil waved his hand dismissively. “Only if you do it wrong.”

  “But at the very least, you’ll get whatever this is that Tarvek’s got.”

  Gil shrugged. “Quite probably, but I wouldn’t worry about it.”

  Agatha stared at him, sure in the knowledge that somebody should worry about it.

  Gil continued. “My father figures that a ruler should be hard to kill. So whenever a new disease is found, we’re inoculated against it or simply infected with it. Same with building up a resistance to poisons. I’m probably proof against almost anything.”

  Agatha was dubious. “That…seems a bit risky.”

  Gil smirked. “Most people just know my father as the despotic warlord who rules Europa, but he does have his amusing Sparky quirks. Did you know he really loves waffles?”

  “Wait! I see it now!” Tarvek announced, clutching at Agatha’s wrist.

  Agatha frowned as she thought. “Don’t try to distract me, either of you. No—we studied this. Doctor Beetle said that even under ideal conditions, most of the people who tried it died, or at least came out of it raving mad.” She paused a moment. “Really mad. Worse than when they started. Gil, you’re talking about trying this on a living person. The systemic feedback could short out your entire nervous system.”

  “True, it could…” Gil conceded, “but as long as he stays relatively calm, there shouldn’t be any major problems.”

  Tarvek suddenly flung himself upright. “I am the prettiest frog in this entire pond!” he shouted triumphantly. He then rolled off the bench onto the floor with a crash.

  Gil shrugged again and bent to lift him back onto the table. “And, of course, I’d hate for it to be boring.”

  Once Tarvek was off the floor, Agatha took a sheet and tucked it tightly around him so he wouldn’t fall off again. She spoke as she worked: “And let’s not forget how that sort of thing—even if it works at all—has a good chance of leaving the subject an out-of-control monster that has to be hunted down and shot.”

  Gil flung his hands into the air. “Well, there you go!” he shouted. “In that case he’ll be right back to normal!”

  “Gil! I’m serious! Even if we wanted to do this, we don’t have any of the right equipment. I’ve already checked. Everything here is useless!”

  “Surely not all of it.” Gil waved a hand and indicated the machines scattered throughout the room, the piles of discarded components and shelves and drawers full of tools. “I mean, this was some powerful Spark’s workroom! Look at all this stuff! What about this thing?” He gestured to an intricate copper lattice.

  “That one will electrocute him in one of eight amusing ways.” She pointed to another. “That one can transplant his mind into a wide variety of household pets, and that one will drain all of his blood and artistically replace it with molten brass.”

  Gil paused, and pointed to a small metal box. “Oh. Well, what about this one? It sort of looks like a toaster.”

  Agatha nodded. “It sort of is a toaster.”

  Gil waited. “Sort of?”

  Agatha sighed. “Oh, yes. It could toast the whole town. Look, Gil, my family…they weren’t nice people.”

  Gil stared at it. “How did you figure all this out so quickly?”

  “Apparently the Castle moonlights as a set of instruction manuals.”

  “You should be more grateful,” the Castle said. “When you’re standing in the body-washing rain simulator trying to decide which knob activates the scrubbing powder dispenser and which the boiling water, I’m sure I will have quite forgotten.”

  Gil leaned wearily back against a cabinet and ran a hand through his hair. “Agatha, listen. I…I can see that you really like this toad.” He looked at his boots and waved vaguely at Tarvek.

  Agatha blushed. “What? How—I mean—why would you say that?”

  Gil gave a humorless snort. “Listen to yourself. You’re a strong Spark, but you’re holding back. You’re so afraid of hurting him, you’ve gone all sloppy and helpless.”

  This was just insulting. “How dare you?” Agatha snapped.

  “This isn’t like you!” Gil snarled back. “You haven’t even tried!”

  Who did he think he was? “What do you know about it? About me? You hardly know me!”

  Gil swept a hand around the room. “I know you well enough! You’re better than this! Look at this stuff! ‘This isn’t what we need’? Are you serious? Do you think molecular destabilizers show up in pork pies? Of course not! You have to build th
em out of sausage grinders and automatic bootjacks just like everyone else! With the machines in this room alone, you could cannibalize enough material to make anything if you weren’t all frozen up worried about killing him, which is stupid!”

  By this time, Gil was shouting in full Spark voice, and Agatha’s tones matched his. “Gil, this stuff is dangerous! It would be easier to just kill him and then revive him!”

  The two of them stopped and stared at each other round-eyed as amazing possibilities began to blossom in their imaginations.

  “It…it would greatly simplify the procedure,” Agatha breathed. “But…there’s still the danger of catastrophic mental breakdown for both participants…”

  Gil put his hands on her shoulders and looked up at the nearest machine. “Nonsense!” he said. “Once we cure him, sorting out the minor side-effects will be simple! Come on, if we try to get him to the hospital, it will be too late. We’ve got to act fast or we’ll lose him for good. I think, if we’re creative, these machines might actually be useful.”

  Agatha turned to face him. She could feel her blood roaring through her veins. “Ah! Yes! We may be able to reconfigure that blood-to-brass thing to act as a filter!”

  Gil’s eyes were wide. “Oh! Yeah! And it may be possible to eliminate death-trauma memory loss entirely if we shunt him out of his body while we work—”

  Agatha slapped the copper lattice. “And we even have something that can generate the nuanced current!”

  Gil was actually hopping in place. “Ooh! Ooh! And if we keep high voltage running through everything the whole time, while applying—”

  Agatha squealed and clapped her hands. “Exactly! Then the cascade effects that usually kill everyone and set the lab on fire probably won’t even have a chance to begin!”

  The next few minutes saw the two of them dashing about the laboratory, excitedly producing bits of arcane technology and figuring out how they could be repurposed. At the end, they were laughing and yelling, clutching each other’s hands, and jumping up and down while finishing each other’s equations. Finally they both simultaneously shouted out a final “Zero!” and stood panting, staring at each other with shining eyes.

  Agatha gripped Gil’s shoulders. “This has a small, but fascinating, chance of actually working. Let’s do it!” she growled.

  Gil wiped the sheen of sweat off of his brow and stared back at her with smoldering eyes. “This will be great!” he said fervently. “I can get killing Tarvek out of my system and give him a hard time about it later!”

  At the mention of his name, Tarvek stirred and let out a small groan. Agatha flew to his side. His eyes fluttered open. “Agatha,” he whispered. “I don’t think I’m at all well.”

  “No, no!” Agatha brushed his long bangs out of his face and patted him happily. “It’s all going to be all right! We’re just going to kill you and then you’ll be fine!”

  Tarvek goggled up at her. Agatha wasn’t sure if he understood or not, but—

  Gil stepped in. “Agatha… Okay, my turn.” He clutched his forehead. “Tch. You have a lot to learn about talking to patients.”

  Agatha was confused. “Oh, but—Science—”

  Gil put a finger to her lips and she paused. He then sat on the table next to Tarvek, who continued to look horrified. Gil was, apparently, something much worse than a simple nightmare. Gil leaned in. “Shut up,” he told Tarvek.

  Tarvek, who hadn’t actually said anything, blinked, and continued to be silent. Gil took a deep breath. “Okay. Listen up. Because you are an idiot, you’ve somehow managed to get yourself infected with Hogfarb’s Resplendent Immolation. If you were paying attention in Professor Fauve’s lectures,79 which I rather doubt, you’ll know that once the second stage begins, you’re going to go up like a torch. We’re going to try to prevent that by destroying the chroma igniters that have invaded your system.

  “Now, we’ve got a bunch of old Heterodyne torture machines here, so we’re going to tear them up and try to cobble something together with the parts. It looks like we might have to drain all your blood and run it through an improvised filter—but we’re thinking we’ll combine everything with a modified si vales valeo which, yes, means that we’re going to have to kill you for a while. Unless…huh. Interesting. Actually, it’s possible that instead of a single moment of death, you’ll experience a continual rolling death for as long as we run the current. Still, that’s only if we can’t transfer your mind into a rat, or something…either way, do try to pay attention so we can take notes later.

  “Also we think we probably might have a way to keep you from becoming a ravening monster but we’ll keep you chained down just in case.”

  Agatha gently put her hand over Gil’s mouth. “Okay,” she said. “Thanks. I think I’ve learned a lot.”

  Gil raised his eyebrows in pleased surprise. Agatha turned to Tarvek and took his hand. It had turned lime green. Her heart was pounding. He looked so terrible…what could she say to him… “Tarvek, I—”

  “It…It’s brilliant!” He pressed both her hands in his. “Oh, Agatha! You really do care!”

  Agatha wondered if he was still hallucinating. “Well, of course, but—”

  Gil snorted and stalked off, taking von Zinzer with him.

  Tarvek gazed at her adoringly. “It’ll work! I know you can do it! You’re so amazing! Yes, let’s start right away!”

  “Wait—but first,” Tarvek said. He looked around cautiously. “Where is Violetta?” He asked in a low, serious voice. “I need to talk to her. Now.”

  Violetta, who had been, frankly, cowering next to Moloch while watching Agatha and Gil rant around the room, calmed herself using the secret Smoke Knight technique of biting her tongue, and stepped up. “Well, talk! I’m right here! You Sparks get all into your freakish, twisted courtship rituals and completely forget that you have an audience, don’t you?” She scowled at him. “Have you also forgotten that I’m supposed to keep you alive?

  Tarvek was overjoyed. “Yay! There you are!” He grinned up at her. “I really am sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused you—” Violetta looked like she had a bone caught in her throat. Tarvek blithely continued, “but I’m going to make it up to you!”

  Violetta turned to Agatha. “Did you already swap out his brain and I missed it?”

  Tarvek settled back onto the table and gazed upwards, contemplating infinity. He spoke in a whisper that Violetta had to bend over him to hear: “Since I’m going to die, I hereby release you from all duties to the family and to the Order.”

  Violetta gasped.

  Tarvek nodded. “And I’m sending you into the service of the Lady Heterodyne.”

  Violetta clutched at her head. “Oh no,” she moaned. “I’m sick too! I’m starting to hallucinate!”

  “You’ll do fine,” Tarvek assured her. “You’re like a faithful hound, with your cold little nose…”

  “Oh my gosh!” Violetta was starting to hyperventilate. She turned to Agatha. “Oh my gosh! If…if I could stick with you—And…and do girl things…and I…I could go to your party and wear a pretty dress…”

  “She’s always wanted to, you know,” Tarvek confided to Gil, who was walking past with an armload of syringes, tubes, and bottles. Gil gave him a blank look and continued across the room to where von Zinzer was setting out a selection of bizarrely shaped glassware and connecting it with pipes.

  “ARRGH,” Violetta scowled. She leaned in again to whisper furiously: “But it…it won’t work. You don’t have the authority!”

  Tarvek raised his eyebrows. “I’m the King!” he shouted cheerfully to the whole room.

  “Stupid!” Violetta smacked him. “Not if you’ve been killed and revived!” her voice dropped to the barest whisper. “The Order will throw you out!”

  “Not if we don’t tell them,” Tarvek whispered. “It’ll be a secret!”

  “But I’m sworn to…” She stared at Tarvek. “This is how you do it,” she said faintly. “This is how you get pe
ople to…to betray their vows and perjure themselves and commit blackmail and murder for your schemes—”

  “Murder?” Tarvek closed his eyes and wearily held up a hand. “Baby steps, Violetta, baby steps.” He cracked open an eye. “Well?”

  Violetta sagged. “I’ll do it,” she whispered.

  Tarvek’s voice returned to normal volume, and he playfully waggled his finger at Violetta. “Excellent. So you obey Agatha. Keep her safe.” He waved a regal hand toward Gil, who was lifting jars off the workbench and checking their contents. “And don’t let this Lothario bother her. After all, she is my future bride!”

  “What?!” Gil shouted. The jar he had been holding smashed on the floor, scattering iridescent green powder across his boots. “I’ve changed my mind,” he informed them all at full volume. “Let’s just kill him!”

  “Oh my,” Violetta marveled. “For the first time in my life, I don’t actually want to.”

  Agatha crossed her arms and frowned at them. “Stop it. We’re going to kill him properly.”

  Tarvek nodded sagely and smiled. “I hear birdies,” he chuckled.

  Agatha nodded. “Great. Then that’s settled. Let’s get started.”

  Gil raised a hand. “Oh. Wait. I’ve just remembered something I have to take care of first.” He turned to von Zinzer. “Did you find that Ichor of Somnia?”

  Von Zinzer nodded. “Yessir. The jar is still sealed, so it might even still be good?” He found the correct jar and handed it to Gil, who examined it, nodding in satisfaction.

  “Excellent. Come with me.” Gil said, and led von Zinzer out of the room.

  Once they were in the hall, von Zinzer cleared his throat. “Ah… sir? Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “What was all that about messing up this guy’s being king? King of what?”

  Gil rolled his eyes. “Tarvek is in the direct line of descent for at least three thrones that I can think of off the top of my head.” He waved a hand. “Oh, a bunch of his relatives would have to die first, but let’s just say I wouldn’t sell any of them insurance.”

  Moloch considered this. “But—all that about being dead and revived?”