CHAPTER 11

Why has the Heterodyne family survived? A legitimate question, when you consider they are universally reviled. The question becomes even more perplexing when you realize they are arguably the oldest dynasty in Europa, surviving when dozens of lesser houses have risen, conquered, and then slumped back into irrelevance. The answer seems to be that they were open minded.

Throughout the centuries, their enemies have consistently proclaimed they are superior to the Heterodynes because they adhere to a predictable set of high-minded beliefs, laws, and/or codes of conduct, while the Heterodynes freely admitted they do no such thing and, incidentally, seemed to go out of their way to embrace chaos, evil, and malice.

While this would certainly seem to give the Heterodyne’s antagonists the spiritual high ground, the sad reality is that the people who opposed the Heterodynes frequently did so for less than benevolent reasons. Those who feel the power they possess is granted to them by God, and thus their rightful due, rarely consider the optics of the thousand-and-one thoughtless cruelties they blithely perform on a daily basis have on the (usually) silent constituents who actually make up the foundations of their temporal power.

But while the Heterodynes could be legitimately charged with every high crime, atrocity, and blasphemy under the sun, the one charge you cannot lay at their feet is that of hypocrisy. They freely admitted they were terrible people and made no pretense they were anything else.

One of the reasons organized religion has failed to gain the traction in Europa many scholars think it should have, is that the Heterodynes have roared their defiance of all that is good and proper from their mountain fortress for centuries, and have, very conspicuously, NOT been smote by a vengeful deity, or by any of their self-proclaimed earthly representatives. In fact, they seem to be doing annoyingly well.

A large part of this success seems to be that they are, when all and said and done, scientists. And dreadfully good ones, at that. When something doesn’t work, they admit it and change it. When they come up with a new, better way of doing something? They implement it. They are, in their own way, devotees of Truth and have no loyalty to any established theory, belief, or institution.

This gave them an enormous advantage when dealing with enemies who may very well be aware there was a “better way of doing something,” but could not change due to institutional inertia or conflicting beliefs.”

—From the introduction to Nikotiva von Schmetterling’s The Warped Tree: The Genealogy of the Heterodynes (Transylvania Polygnostic University Press)

Attention!” A flotilla of balloonists sailed through the driving rain over Mechanicsburg, loudspeakers crackling. “All citizens are to evacuate by way of the South Gates immediately. Mechanicsburg is about to be destroyed! Attention—”

Atop an observation tower, a Jäger shouted into a small handheld communicator. “Der empire iz valkink shells down der northern road!” On the road itself, a series of explosions were, in fact, leisurely making their way towards the town. It was obvious to the Jäger’s experienced eye that this was a display of power and control that was supposed to be seen. “Hy dun tink dey iz gonna blow der north vall yet, but vhen dey do, nottink iz goink to schtop dem!”

Agatha, Tarvek, and General Zog were on that wall, to the general’s increasing dismay. He, too, calculated that if the Baron’s forces had wanted to bring down the walls, they could have done so already. “So they’re just going to level the town, going from north to south,” Agatha yelled against the ongoing thunder.

“Iz a goot plan,” Zog replied. “Vhich iz vhy ve should not be here!”

“So why not attack us from all four sides? They have enough artillery.”

Zog beamed and almost patted her head. Hyu iz a Heterodyne all right, he thought. “Hy imagine dot dey vants to let der townspipple flee. Iz goot form. Pluz hy tink dey schtill hope to ketch hyu, Mistress.”

Agatha considered the Knights of Jove clanks. They had obviously realized that trapped between the city wall and the advancing army was a strategically poor choice. Even Agatha had realized that the great white behemoths standing before Mechanicsburg’s dark walls made superb targets. Two of the great clanks had already been destroyed by long-range artillery, and this had spurred the remaining clanks to quickly fly in over the walls. Agatha expressed concern about letting them in, but it was agreed that even if they were inferior fighters, they would cause the empire to waste a few shots, which Agatha thought a bit cold. “What is so important about these guys that the Baron was waiting for them?”

“The empire is in chaos,” Tarvek explained. “There are rebellions and uprising all across Europa. This was the plan of some of those fools who were trying to ‘help’ me declare myself as the Storm King. I thought I’d squashed that aspect of it, but I can see it was just too tempting.

“I’m sure a lot of private scores are being settled and power grabs are under way while this ‘popular uprising’ is keeping everyone busy. But all this chaos was caused for someone’s benefit. The plan is to have the empire appear to revolt, and then the Storm King appears! He allies with the newly discovered Heterodyne, and together they overthrow the old empire and declare a new order. The people who ignited the uprisings calm them down, and thus it appears that the new Storm King/Heterodyne government is supported by the people and is fully in control.”

Tarvek shook his head. “Morons. That’s not the sort of genie you can easily stuff back into its bottle. From what I saw when I was on Castle Wulfenbach, these uprisings have spread farther and faster than anyone expected. The Wulfenbachs will really have their hands full setting things right.”

He gestured up at the chess-king clank as it stood quietly, staring out over the parapet. “The Baron must have calculated it would be easier to calm things down if he could display an actual usurper who, ostensibly, was the cause of the problem.” Tarvek gave an evil smile. “Not a bad plan, and the trial would be an excellent place to dump some information I’ve been hoarding.”

Krosp rubbed his head on Tarvek’s leg. “I really like you.”

Agatha stared at the clanks. “Maybe we should move a bit farther away.”

“YOU WILL COME WITH US!” It was a voice that Agatha would remember for the rest of her life. Rising over the parapet came an eerie figure: long, green limbs folded before it, topped with a golden, conical hat and veil. “YOU ARE THE HETERODYNE,” it moaned, “AND YOU ARE TO COME WITH US.”

“Dreen,”¹³⁹ Zog gasped, and without another word, he and Tarvek hoisted Agatha up between them and dashed for another stairway— only to find the unearthly creature now standing before them, sepulchral arms raised towards them. “YOU ARE TO COME WITH US.”

With a great metallic crash, the leader of the gigantic white knights swatted the Dreen flat beneath an enormous white hand. “NO,” it thundered.

A hatch on the titanic chest irised open, and a tall, broad-shouldered man appeared. He was dressed in white and gold and his long hair was contained within a shiny gold circlet. He waved when he saw Agatha.

“Lady Heterodyne,” he boomed jovially. “Would that we had met under better circumstances. I, Martellus von Blitzengaard, by the grace of God and the Voice of Europa, am the newly ascended Storm King!” He held out a hand. “Come with me quickly, and I will get you to safety!”

Agatha glanced at a now-appalled Tarvek. “The Storm King? But I thought—”

“Tweedle, you idiot,” Tarvek shouted. “Get out of there! You’ll be killed!”

The man caught sight of Tarvek and looked surprised. He recovered quickly and sneered. “Give it up, cousin. Whatever pathetic webs of intrigue you are currently spinning are in tatters. You’ve been replaced.”

“Just shut up,” Tarvek screamed, “and jump!”

Martellus paused, suddenly uncertain. “What are you—” he was cut off as the clank beneath his feet shattered into fragments. Martellus hit the ground with a bounce and rolled to his feet in a large puddle in time to see the shards of his clank continuing to crumble into smaller bits, and the Dreen slowly rising—apparently undamaged—from the wreckage.

It again extended a finger towards Agatha. “YOU WILL COME WITH US.” It paused as it saw Agatha and the rest of her party disappearing down the stairs.

It swiveled about in time to see Martellus von Blitzengaard tumbling down the same stairs after them. It nodded to itself in satisfaction and turned back towards the Wulfenbach lines. Its preordained task here was accomplished. The Heterodyne girl and this iteration of the Storm King had been brought together. It observed other, less desirable possibilities evaporate into theoretical clouds of mathematics. Events would now proceed as they must.

Agatha and the others were off the wall and moving fast. “Hy dun see dot creepy ting followink us,” Zog muttered. “But ve should get to der cathedral. Der are tings dere dot might schtop it.”¹⁴⁰

Behind them, Tarvek and Martellus were arguing. “Replaced?” Tarvek snorted. “By you? I’m still the rightful heir and don’t you forget it!”

“You are a sniveling weakling and you’re supposed to be dead,” Martellus snapped back.

“Oh, I’ll just bet I am. Too bad that didn’t work out for you.”

“I was told you were dead when I was called here!”

Tarvek frowned. “Really? And who would call you?” As they turned the corner, they skidded to a stop. Before them was a woman on an armor-clad stallion. She wore an ensemble that was obviously supposed to evoke a nun’s habit, but she was also wearing greaves and held aloft a shining sword. Arrayed behind her was a troop of squat horse-headed clanks, all armed with serviceable-looking pike axes.

“Lady Heterodyne!” The mounted woman saluted her with the sword. “I am the Abbess of the Red Cathedral! I and the Bloodstone Paladins stand ready to take their sworn place alongside the Storm King and his Knights of Jove!” For the first time, a slight uncertainty filled her face as she peered behind them. “Um . . . I was told they were here?”

Martellus strode forward. “I am the Storm King, here in answer to your summons.”

“Where are the rest of you?”

Tarvek raised a hand. “Tarvek Sturmvarous. The legitimate Storm King. This fool—” he indicated Martellus “—landed his force directly in front of Wulfenbach’s main army. The survivors may have managed to get within the walls, but they’re being targeted by Wulfenbach.” As he spoke, another of the tall clanks toppled off the wall, a flaming ball of oily smoke billowing out from where its head had been.

The abbess looked at Martellus, who waved this inconvenient fact aside. “Their task was to deliver me here. This they have done.” He turned to Agatha. “Obviously this is not the place for flowery declarations. For now I shall let my actions speak for me, and hope that they shall serve as a proper introduction later.” He turned and shouted, “Bring me a horse!”

At this point, an obviously put-upon Moloch stepped up with a horse equipped with a splendid saddle and bridle. With a single bound, Martellus took the saddle. He turned to General Zog, who was watching all this with a bemused expression. “General, if you would please show me where we can be of the most use?”

Zog folded his arms and jerked his chin at the ranks of clanks. “Doze tings do belonk to us, hyu know.” He glanced to Agatha. “Bot dey vill be uzefull. Heef hyu will excuse me, Mistress?” Agatha nodded, and with a sharp whistle, Zog led the clanks and Martellus off at a brisk trot.

Agatha and Tarvek watched them go off through the rain. Agatha glanced at Tarvek. “He’s going to be all sorts of trouble, isn’t he?”

Tarvek sighed. “Well, of course. He’s family.” The last of the clanks turned a corner and were gone. “To be fair, Tweedle’s good in a fight, but in this case I don’t think he has adequate firepower. I mean, those clanks looked impressive, but they’re pretty old. All they’ll do is buy you some time, but not much of that.”

He turned to see Agatha staring up at the clouds overhead. “I think I have an idea . . . ” She turned to Tarvek. “Forget the cathedral, we have to get closer to the Castle. As high as possible, and I’ll need Gil’s lightning rod . . . ” This chain of thought was suddenly cut off by the point of the abbess’s sword, which snapped to position directly in front of Agatha’s face.

“You are going nowhere,” the abbess coolly informed her. “Do not commit the folly of believing yourself a true Heterodyne, young lady.”

Simultaneously, Agatha and Tarvek glanced at the Doom Bell. The abbess flinched at the memory. “You may have tricked a broken Castle into accepting you, but we both know you are nothing but a pawn to help smooth the ascension of the Storm King.” She glared at Tarvek. “And a pawn that has fallen into the wrong hands at that.” She waved the sword imperiously. “You will both come with me to the catacombs, where you will be kept safe until you are neede—” but the abbess never finished her orders. Mid-sentence, she slumped to the ground. Behind her stood Moloch von Zinzer, who had stepped up behind her and smacked her in the head with a length of pipe.

Agatha and Tarvek stared at him. “Trust me,” he assured them, “you wouldn’t have gotten anywhere trying to argue with her.”

Tarvek relieved the fallen woman of her sword. “You really are the best minion ever,” he told Moloch.

“I am not her minion!” Moloch clutched the pipe like a man trying to hold onto his sanity. He turned to Agatha. “Mistress! Tell him I’m not your minion!”

Agatha glanced at Tarvek. “He’s not my minion.”

Moloch stared at her. “You’re lying,” he screamed. “I can tell!”

Suddenly, three grinning figures appeared from out of the rain, and Agatha recognized Dimo, Ognian, and Maxim. “Ho, dere, sveethot,” Dimo sang out. “Der general sez dot hyu vanted dis oldt ting!” With a flourish, he placed Gilgamesh’s lightning stick into Agatha’s hand.

She examined it eagerly. “It looks okay,” she said relieved. “I was worried it might be broken.”

Moloch gave it a suspicious look. “So what does it do?”

“It tells lightning where to strike!”

Moloch nodded as he pushed the tip away from his face. “And what are you planning to do with it?”

“The Castle needs a lot of power and it needs it fast. I’m going to hit it with a big bolt of lightning!”

Moloch flinched. “From here?”

Agatha pouted. “Of course I can’t do it from here. I need to get a lot closer to the Castle.” She turned back to the Jägers. “I’m thinking the Heterodyne Observation Tower?”

Dimo rubbed his hand together. “Hoy! Nize choice!”

Moloch sidled up to Ognian. “This place—it’s really high up, isn’t it?”

“Ho, yez!”

He glanced up as a roll of thunder traveled the length of the town. “And we’re going up there in a lightning storm.”

“Hyu betcha!”

“I knew it.”

The group came to a small overlook. Moloch pointed. “Let me guess. It’s that really tall, exposed tower? Way over there?” Everyone nodded. Moloch gave a nod of satisfaction. “You’ll never make it. Listen, the Castle had me running all over this town making repairs. Forget the troops outside, there’s a whole bunch of forces already in the town. Now all the non-empire stuff is just wandering through the town. They’re disorganized, but they’re still dangerous.

“Ever since that damn bell rang, the imperial troops have been falling back to the Great Hospital. They pretty much control that sector. Even though the hospital’s been destroyed, there’s a lot of medical stores in the area.

“There’s also that large park they’ve been using as a staging area. The Castle can’t effectively clear the skies anymore, so they’ve been able to set up an airfield. That’s allowed them to bring in enough support that they can hold the South Gate.

“They can’t advance against all the town’s defenders, so they’re no longer trying. They’ll destroy the town from the north, which will funnel the remaining enemy forces, the townspeople—and hopefully, you—through their checkpoints. This tower you want is behind one of their fortified perimeters, so you going there will just make things easy for them.”

He looked at everyone around him and frowned at their slightly open jaws. He rolled his eyes. “I was in the military for over ten years! If you can’t read a battlefield you could accidentally surrender to your own officers, which is super embarrassing, if only because it’ll get you shot.”

Maxim nodded his head. “Hyu iz vun heckuva useful guy.” He snagged one of Moloch’s arms. “Hyu gets to come vit uz.”

Oggie grabbed the other arm. “Ve’ll figger owt a vay to get dere mit hyu alonk!”

“NOOO!”

Dimo glanced at Agatha. “Bot even vit meester expert guide, ve iz gun have trobble gettink over dere. Ken hyu use dot lightning schtick to clear a path?”

Agatha shook her head. “No, it’s too fragile. If I use it too much, I could burn it out.”

Dimo frowned. “Zo iz worse den useless. Not only ken ve not use it, but ve gots to protect it.”

Agatha blinked and then reexamined the stick. “That’s true. All right then, I’ll improve it. I’ll bet there are all kinds of things I can do to make it stronger.”

Dimo raised an eyebrow. “As ve iz fightink our vay through a var zone?”

“It will be an excellent way to get parts.”

Dimo grinned. “Vhen hyu poots it dot vay, hit almost makes sense!”

Meanwhile, Oggie had sidled up to Tarvek. “So hyu iz der new guy efferyvun is talkink about. Vhat happened to der odder schmot guy?”

Tarvek shrugged. “We don’t know. I think it’ll depend on how smart a guy he really is.”

Ognian nodded. “End how schmart are hyu? Vhat do hyu tink ve should do?”

Tarvek looked out over the town, examined what he could see of the surrounding army and glanced up at the machine-filled sky. He turned back to Ognian. “At this point I could make a very good argument for running away and starting a career in piracy.”

Ognian’s eyebrows shot up. “Hyu iz a schmot guy,” he marveled.

A few minutes later, they were moving through the rain-soaked streets, when Dimo, who was in the lead, held up a hand. “Qviet,” he hissed. “Get back.” They huddled in the shadows as a mechanical creature lumbered past on the connecting street. Its red eyes glowed, and a sleek scorpion-style tail swiveled back and forth as it moved. “Iz vun of der Baron’s phlogiston-powered mantigoons. He got dem off ol’ Professor Ponglenoze last year. Dey’ll burn anything to a leedle crisp.”

“Professor Wuburtus Ponglenoze,” Agatha asked.

Dimo stared at her. “Maybe? Hy dunno.”

“Doctor Beetle said Ponglenoze developed a brilliant interlock system for regulating energy flows.”

Tarvek nodded. “I think I read about that. It’s supposed to improve switch efficiency by a factor of five!”

Agatha turned to the Jägers. “Can you get one for me?”

With a whoop, Maxim and Ognian leapt out, dragging a terrified Moloch along. “Wait,” he squealed. “Why me?”

Dimo pushed him along. “Somevun got to tell us vhat an inter-vhatchamacallit looks like!”

Soon enough they were back, and Ognian handed Agatha a small glittering part. Dimo had an arm companionably slung over Moloch’s shoulders. “Hy schtill dun understand vhy hyu hit der driver in der head mit dot brick.”

Moloch glared at him. “Because going for the weakest part gets the fight over quickly.”

Dimo nodded. “See, dot’s the bit hy dun underschtand.”

Agatha clicked the final connection into place and held it up for Tarvek to inspect. “How about that?”

“Nice!” He tapped the cane. “You know what this needs? Some sort of phase-lock inverter.”

Agatha bit her lip. “Oooh, now you’re talking. But where would we find—”

“HOY!” Mamma Gkika and a squad of Jägers poured out of an alley. They clutched a variety of weapons and local delicacies. “Vhat iz hyu keeds doink here? Dere iz a sqvad of bloater tanks comink up dis road! Ve’s plannink an ambush!”

Tarvek rubbed his hands together. “Are these the same bloater tanks featured in Baron von Twangsnekken’s book Twenty-Seven Amusing Thoughts on Urban Warfare and After-Dinner Mints?”

Gkika looked lost. “Deyz der vuns mit beeg gons on dem.”

Tarvek nodded to Agatha. “Good enough.”

Agatha finished a quick sketch and handed it to the Jägergeneral. “Here. The parts I want look like these.”

Ghika examined the sketch and grinned. “Hokay, boyz, ve’s going shoppink!”

Fifteen minutes later, Agatha swung the refurbished stick up into her arms. What had begun the day as a sleek walking stick topped with a glowing blue bulb, now resembled . . . (Note: Um . . . the authors are forced to concede that at this point the Lady Heterodyne’s device did, in fact resemble nothing else. It was almost twice its original length, five times its diameter and everyone who saw it unanimously agreed that it looked like trouble.) She showed it to Tarvek. “But it still needs something.”

Tarvek rubbed his chin. “I see what you’re going for, but I can’t quite figure out . . . ”

“I know what it needs,” a voice boomed from behind them. They spun to see Othar Tryggvassen with a bedraggled Violetta at his side peering down at the device. “It needs one of those . . . ” He snapped his fingers in annoyance. “Oh, how embarrassing, it’s on the tip of my tongue. Hold on . . . ”

With a leap, he cleared a low wall, surprising a Wulfenbach trooper clank that had been creeping up on them. It lashed out, connecting with Othar in mid-air. Othar grabbed hold of the metal fist, swung about so that his feet were planted on the clank’s chest, and tore the arm free. He then proceeded to beat the clank into fragments with the detached arm. As soon as the mangled device fell over, he was rummaging about within its chest cavity. With a grunt of satisfaction, he pulled forth a glowing tube, which he presented to Agatha with a flourish. “You know, one of these!”

“Oh!” Agatha was delighted. She snatched it from his hand. “Yes! That’s perfect!”

Tarvek shook his head. “I keep forgetting he’s a spark.”

Violetta glanced at Moloch. “Really. So you’ve completely missed the fact that he’s overbearing, self-aggrandizing, and certain death to be around?”

Tarvek looked at her blankly. “Well, no, but what’s your point?”

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.”

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.

“How dare you,” Agatha said. “You’re still trying to subdue me?”

“Yes, I am!” This time Gil simply tried to smack her. But months of training allowed her to block the intended blow. “Because I have no choice!” Again he attacked, but even as she spun out of his grasp, Agatha realized yet again that something was wrong. She had seen Gil fight. Had seen him take down Captain Vole and, yet fighting her now, his moves were clumsy and obvious. She looked at his face and saw it was a study in frustration. Not at her, she realized, but with himself. He saw her looking at him and his eyes pleaded with her. “My father wants you dead. He’s only giving me this one last chance to try to save you. I want to rescue you!”

Even as he was saying this, Agatha saw his head was shaking from side to side, indicating “no.” Something is seriously wrong here, she realized.

“I do not need rescuing. I am the Heterodyne!”

Gil’s face looked haunted. “You are a fool!”

His head snapped to one side. “That alone won’t save you. We’re trapped! My father has won!”

His head snapped to the other side. He looked at her coldly. “You talk as if you think the Heterodyne cannot die. I assure you that you can, and you will if you continue to defy me.”

Again his head snapped to one side. “I will not lose you,” he screamed. “Not again.” This last came out almost like a sob.

He’s arguing with himself, Agatha realized. Like there were two— Comprehension came crashing in on her, encasing her heart in a fist of ice.

She surged forward without hesitation, startling the man before her. She grabbed his lapels and gave him a kiss, fierce and hot. He froze in surprise, eyes staring down at her, before his mouth responded and eagerly molded itself to hers. After several seconds, Agatha grasped Gil’s lapels and pushed him back. “I will rescue you,” she said fiercely.

At this, Gil’s expression changed to cold fury, and he leapt forward, hands outstretched—and ran right into the boot Agatha slammed into his solar plexus. “Catch,” she shouted. Hands windmilling desperately, Gil fell back down the steeply pitched roof and smack into the waiting grasp of the now mostly recovered Franz, who clasped him tightly, arms pinned to his side. The dragon was obviously still a bit woozy, but ferocity filled his eyes, and the hold he had on Gil was obviously not a gentle one.

“So, kid. I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. I’m the Great Dragon of Mechanicsburg, and you’re—?” He snorted and squeezed Gil even tighter. “Eh. You know what? Don’t really care.”

“Franz!” Agatha’s shout caused the great lizard to pause. “Franz, this is the Baron’s son, Gilgamesh Wulfenbach. Heir to the empire, and despite everything that’s happened here . . . ” Agatha looked away as she felt her face flushing. “Despite everything, I am somewhat in love with him.”

Franz glanced at Gil, so he alone saw the alternating expressions of joy and anger that flicked across the man’s face. “You sure about that, m’Lady?” Franz waved Gil about for emphasis. “I mean, I know Heterodynes never choose the easy path when it comes to romance,¹⁴⁴ but there is something seriously wrong with this guy.”

“I know, but I cannot guarantee his safety here. So, get him out of my town right now, before I utterly destroy him!” Agatha touched her still tingling lips as she watched Franz launch himself off the tower. Or utterly something, she admitted to herself.

“Ah! Mistress! There you are!” Agatha almost lost her balance as the voice of the Castle boomed out of a nearby grill. “And screaming defiance from the highest tower, just as I predicted!”

“Castle! Are you . . . all right?”

A section of the roof beneath Agatha’s feet flattened out. Rods twisted upwards and formed a small decorative balcony railing. “You know,” the Castle said wonderingly, “I believe I am!” It chuckled in glee. “Would you like to see me prove it?”

“Yes!” A final, gratuitous peal of thunder rolled out overhead as Agatha found herself dancing in place while her town and the invading armies lay spread out before her. “Yes! Yes yes yes yes YES!”