Agatha H. And the Clockwork Princess (39 page)

Agatha’s felt an odd sensation in her stomach and face went blank. “Really.”

Vrin’s eyes never wavered “A female child. She would indeed be eighteen years old.” Agatha bit her lip. Vrin continued slowly. “And it was said that she would have the Spark.”

Agatha smiled brightly. “Well. That’s fascinating. A lot of people have wondered what your people were doing for all those years. You were searching. For a Heterodyne heir. A lot of people were doing that.”

Vrin continued to study her. Agatha felt compelled to continue. “Well
my
father was a blacksmith, and I think I would have noticed if he was some sort of legendary hero.”

These were familiar lies, and Agatha felt herself relax as she told them. “As for me being a Spark, well that’s just ridiculous!” She noticed about this time that Vrin was no longer looking directly at her, but instead, slightly to the left of her face. A quick shift of her eyes revealed her faithful little clank, which had crawled from her pocket, and was waving hello at the fascinated Geisterdamen.

Vrin nodded slowly and leaned back against the table. “A blacksmith, you say.”

Agatha sighed. “A really good blacksmith.” She put the little clank on the table and tried to change the subject. “So what happened back there? What’s going on?”

Vrin took a final glance at the pocket-watch clank and then ignored it. The other two Geisters openly stared at it, and one of them actually poked it with her fingers and started making adorable cooing noises at it.

Vrin spoke seriously. “It appears that the royal children have staged a coup. They claim that our liaison, Prince Aaronev is dead.”

Agatha interrupted. “That’s true, I’m afraid. I saw it. The princess, Anevka, electrocuted him.” She paused, and then added, out of a sense of fairness, “Prince Tarvek seemed surprised and rather annoyed about that.”

Vrin raised her eyebrows at this, and then rubbed her brow. “Znug!” she swore.

She looked at Agatha and seemed to come to a decision. “We—” she indicated herself and the other two Geisterdamen, “—Are the priestesses of our Lady, our Goddess. Thus, we are able to command our Lady’s… lesser servants. As you no doubt heard, the Royal Children appear to be trying to recreate the true voice of our Lady, which could compel not only these lesser servants, but us as well.”

“But what does that have to do with me?” Agatha asked. “She was analyzing my voice. Do I really sound like that? Like your god—like your Lady?” She paused as the implications struck her. “What if
I
told you to kneel?”

Vrin actually smiled. “Why, I’d probably laugh so hard, I’d only slap you twice.”

Agatha stepped back. “What?”

“The voice they seek is… very much like yours.” She considered. “Especially when you are angry, I think. But even if you are the child we seek, a child is never exactly the same as her mother. Even with us—” Vrin stopped as she realized that she was getting off the subject. “But we can discuss this later. Now, we must escape this place.” She looked over at the table. Eotain had the little clank dancing on the palm of her hand. “Can your little device open doors?”

Agatha shook her head. “Not without tools, but—” Suddenly she remembered Lars’ gift, and slid the ring off of her finger. She fiddled with it a moment, and suddenly, with a satisfying “pung,” it unfolded. “—We do have a lock pick.”

Vrin looked at Agatha with a new respect. “Impressive.”

Agatha smiled. “Okay, now let’s get out of here!” With that she knelt down and proceeded to tinker with the lock mechanism. After a few terse instructions from Vrin, all three of the Geisterdamen prepared to deal with the outside guards.

Ten minutes later, they were leaning against the table, arms folded, as Agatha continued to work at the lock. Vrin leaned in. “You have no
idea
how to use that thing, do you?”

Agatha sat back on her heels and blew a lock of hair out of her face. “Yes, well, they didn’t cover this in holy rug rat school.”

Vrin grabbed Agatha’s shoulder and jerked her to her feet. “Speak with respect! I do not care who you are, you will
not
mock our quest. It is
all
to us.”

Agatha bit back a retort, paused, and then said quietly, “Maybe you should explain it to me.”

Vrin looked surprised, then nodded slowly. She sat Agatha down on one of the cell’s beds, and then sat opposite her. She thought for a minute, and then started speaking. Her voice took on a storyteller’s cadence.

“Since the beginning of all things, we have served our eternal lady. No matter how long her absence from our presence, we knew she would always return to us.

“From when I was a novice, she visited us frequently, always in the same lovely aspect. She helped us increase our crops. Helped us make stronger children. Those were happy days in the City of Silver Light.” Vrin paused.

“But then the Day of Reckoning occurred, as we knew it must. As the Lady herself had foretold. She came to us in high distress. The Gods were at war, and as had been foretold, she carried within her own body the Holy Child.

“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. “Yes! 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.”