your father it was your idea.” He shrugged. “Not like he was really listening to what I had to say, anyway. He was really angry.” Gil could well imagine. Von Zinzer shifted in his cage. “Hey—you said you’d help me.”
Gil stared at him helplessly. The man was an enemy soldier who had confessed to threatening Agatha’s life at least twice, as well as, if you were going to be technical about it, assorted incidents of robbery, blackmail, threats of violence, assault, and burglary. Despite this, Gil found that he felt sorry for the fellow. He seemed to be a fairly ordinary sort of person—barely above a peasant—who had simply been unlucky enough to get caught up in the affairs of Sparks. From Gil’s experience, this meant Von Zinzer had been doomed from the start. Behaving like a saint probably wouldn’t have helped the man.
“Yes,” Gil conceded. “I did say I’d help you.” He reached into his waistcoat’s inner pocket and withdrew a small black pill. “Here. Take this.”
Moloch reached forward eagerly. “Great! Thanks! What is it?”
“Poison,” Gil replied. “It’ll kill you instantly.” He glumly told himself that having such a thing to hand said all- too-much about his life.
Moloch slammed backwards against the rear of the cage, setting it to swinging. “What? Get away from me! You’re crazy!”
Gil sighed. Of course, some people did have it worse than he did. He caught hold of Von Zinzer’s leg and deftly tucked the pill into one of the soldier’s pant cuffs.
“I am truly sorry, Herr Von Zinzer. I really am trying to help you.” He eyed the destination tag affixed to the bottom of the cage. It read “Castle Heterodyne”[11]. “I know it isn’t much, and I’m sorry. The way things are going, this might be more than I can do for Miss Clay.”
He turned away. Von Zinzer called after him: “You madboys! You’re all loony! If that’s your idea of ‘help,’ no wonder you people are always killing each other! God help
A final burst of flame erupted over the delighted heads of the audience, and Master Payne bowed amidst a wave of cheering before continuing. “Before tonight’s main show, we have a special treat for you! Our own Professors Moonsock and Therm will share a song that they learned on their last trip to the
As Payne swept off, two ladies dressed in exotic (and rather daring) costumes strutted onto the stage, strumming what appeared to be tiny guitars. As they played, they circled each other in a jaunty, high-stepping dance, before facing the audience and launching into song.
Apparently, they were well aware that they had no bananas, but it couldn’t be helped, perhaps the audience would care for something else? They quickly had the crowd merrily clapping in time and merrily joining in on the chorus.
Payne, observing from the wings, nodded in satisfaction, then continued backstage—through an open air labyrinth of canvas walls filled with puffing machinery and actors half in and half out of costume. People bustled to and fro, carrying props and lights.
Abner stood in the center of it all, a dozen people in varying stages of hysteria vying for his attention. Abner himself radiated icy calm. With a few succinct directions, instructions and threats, Abner sent them all on their separate ways. Payne smiled. The lad was getting pretty good.
As Payne stepped out of the shadows, Abner reached his hand around behind his back and handed the circus master a steaming mug of his favorite bitter apple tea. Payne frowned. “Save it for the paying customers, lad.” He then smiled and took an appreciative sip. “How do things look?”
Abner shrugged. “A good crowd, sir. The whole town is here. It was market day, so I’d be surprised if there’s anyone living between here and the river who isn’t out front.” Balthazar ran past carrying a red crate. Abner watched him go. “—and if that’s what I think it is, it means we’re almost out of ‘Mimmoths On A Stick.’”
That was good news. Like most shows, the circus made most of its profits from the sales of treats, remedies, charms, and small souvenirs.
“And the troupe?” Payne asked, although he already knew the answer.
“On edge. They’re calming down now that the show’s under way.” A huge roar of laughter went up on the other side of the curtain wall. Payne eyed his apprentice. “And how are
Abner took a moment to consider his answer. “It... it’s like a storm brewing. I know
An odd breeze rippled the fabric of the walls. Payne cast his eyes upward. “Be careful what you wish for,” he muttered.
Abner nodded. “But I think we have a chance. As long as whoever shows up is someone who will listen to us...” He shrugged. “And who knows? Maybe nothing will happen at all.”
Payne looked at him askance. “Do you really believe that?”
Abner shook his head. “No sir.”
Payne again looked upwards in time to see the great black shape blotting out the stars. “Good. Because it’s
As always, the Circus Master’s timing was impeccable. With a crash, huge rows of electric arclights snapped on overhead, blinding performers and audience alike. The Wulfenbach airship had silently drifted down over the crowd—unseen until it was less than ten meters overhead. Soldier clanks stood outlined in the cargo bay doors, and the great steam cannons slowly tracked about. A loudhailer crackled, easily carrying over the noise of the crowd below.
“ATTENTION! THIS IS THE WULFENBACH AIRSHIP
In less then thirty seconds, the ship had settled low enough for a crew of airshipmen to leap to the ground. The ship fired its compressed air harpoon cannons, driving six great mooring stakes into the ground, thick lines trailing upward. Onboard, the great capstans rumbled to life, the hawsers thrummed taut, and the enormous ship began to sink down to earth.
On the ground, the airmen took up positions around the anchor lines, drew the swords at their belts, and assumed guard positions.
From the cargo bays, great metal ramps rolled out and slammed to the earth with a single resonant crash. The thunder of three dozen giant brass and steel soldier clanks marching down the ramps filled the air. In the center of the group strode Gilgamesh Wulfenbach and Captain Bangladesh DuPree[12], bickering like a couple who’d had a lot of practice.
“‘No one will be harmed?’” she demanded. “How am I supposed to work here?” As DuPree considered success to be measured by the number of bodies she left behind, Gil thought any impediment to her efficiency was a thing to be encouraged.
“These people may know nothing,” he pointed out.
Dupree rolled her eyes. “Oh don’t start
Gil didn’t try to dispute this. DuPree was a phenomenal tracker. “Yes, yes, but this time we want the job done without incident. There’s politics involved.”
DuPree grimaced. Usually, when she heard the word “politics,” it was had something to do with Klaus yelling at her. “It’s not my fault if I’m always sent to deal with unreasonable people.”
Gil remembered that he had once tried to determine what kind of person DuPree considered “reasonable.” Thanks to an experimental variant of self-induced shock therapy, he no longer remembered the details. “Just find her.”
“Hmf.” DuPree considered stabbing Gil in the eye, then rolled her eyes and told herself that it probably wouldn’t shut him up anyway. “That’s what I’m trying to do.”
They stopped talking as they approached the crowd, attempting to present a united front[13]. The crowd had sorted itself into two distinct groups. The first was made up of the audience, who appeared to be trying to hide behind the local Burgermeister. The second comprised the members of the circus, who were doing the same thing behind Master Payne. No one had been foolish enough to run. Of the two obvious leaders, the Circus Master was the most impressive looking, so it wasn’t surprising that he was the one
