Agatha H. and the Clockwork Princess

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 saw no reason to lie. “Out of the castle. Prince Tarvek wants me gone before the Baron sends someone to investigate his father’s death.” She paused. “He said he was going to take care of you too.”

Vrin looked at her with an unreadable expression. “Oh, I can well imagine that he would have ‘taken care of us.’” She nodded. “He is certainly correct about one thing. If The Wulfenbach Empire will be interfering here, then we must hurry.” She turned away. “Come with us.”

Agatha didn’t move. “I hate to leave Tinka like this—”

Vrin cut her off with an impatient wave of her hand. “You must leave with us.” She paused and visibly forced herself to be a bit less autocratic. “This is but a mechanism. We have permanently damaged nothing. It was already broken, and this is but another minor repair that Prince Tarvek can easily perform. You are the one that is in danger now, and I assure you, child, your safety is our chief concern.”

Agatha saw the logic in this, and so the four headed off. “This isn’t the way we were going,” Agatha quickly pointed out.

Vrin snorted, but didn’t slow down. “Sturmhalten Castle is not so much a castle, as a structure that contains secret passages. I don’t know where the tik tik was taking you, but I know where we must go now.”

Agatha followed for a moment, then asked, “So the late Prince Aaronev was a follower of... your Lady?”

Vrin frowned. “Supposedly. To hear him tell it, in his youth, they were... romantically involved.” She shrugged, “Or so he claimed. Our Lady never deigned to verify it, one way or the other. But in fairness, he always spoke of her with the proper reverence.” She was again silent, but Agatha could see that this was a topic she felt strongly about, and indeed, she shortly continued.

“But this entire family—” she shook her head. “All of them are as twisted and duplicitous as a sack of oiled snakes. One can never trust anything they say, even when they are speaking an obvious truth. I believe that Aaronev secretly hoped to learn how to use The Lady’s shk- mah for his own ends!”

She eyed Agatha expectantly, and seemed disappointed that this revelation had less impact on her than Vrin had expected.

“Ah,” Agatha said. “Her Shik Whatzis, you say. The impudence.”

Vrin glowered at her. “I believe the ignorant call them Slaver Wasps.”

Agatha stumbled, and only avoided slamming to the ground face-first because Eotain and Shrdlu grabbed her arms without breaking stride.

Agatha dug her heels in and dragged the whole group to a halt. “My mother was The Other? ”

Vrin looked surprised. “You didn’t know?” She nodded. “Oh. Well, yes. Lucrezia Mongfish was the being known to The Shadow World as The Other.” She said this as if it as common knowledge[52].

This time Agatha did stop. “No! I can’t believe it! The Other was responsible for the revenants. The death of... of thousands! All the destruction—!”

The Geisterdamnen circled her, and looked at each other in confusion. Agatha ignored them. “But wait—” She reviewed her histories. “No—The Other attacked Castle Heterodyne and kidnapped Lucrezia Heterodyne. That’s how the whole thing started!”

Vrin gently clasped Agatha’s hand and pulled her down the hall. “Really? How interesting.”

Agatha’s head was so a-whirl with this latest revelation that it was several moments before she was again aware enough to take stock of her surroundings. The room the party was now half way through was large and dimly lit.

“This looks familiar...”

Vrin interrupted. “It is the castle chapel. We do much of our work here.”

Agatha shuddered as she remembered what had happened the last time she was here. “And what is it you do?”

Suddenly the three white ladies turned on her and forced her down into what Agatha realized was the same device that Prince Aaronev had strapped her into earlier that evening. She protested and thrashed mightily as she was buckled in. Vrin stood before a control panel. “We do what we always do. We serve the Goddess!” And she threw the switch.

A great cloud of electricity erupted around Agatha, enveloping the chair and its occupant. She felt a tingling dancing across her flesh for several seconds, and then, from behind her, the apparatus she was strapped into began to roar and vibrate. There was a great final scream of tortured machinery—and then only the sound of turbines winding down. Everywhere lights changed from red to green, and relays could be heard clacking down in sequence.

Agatha opened one eye. Nothing. She looked at herself. Nothing had changed. She looked around. She was still in the chapel. She was beginning to think it had all been some sort of pointless joke when she saw the three Geisterdamen. They were standing reverently, heads bowed, eyes closed, their hands intricately folded before their chests. Praying, Agatha realized. Next to them was a clock-like device. Its single hand was sweeping backwards and just as Agatha figured this all out, the hand hit zero. A great organ note boomed forth as a fresh wave of power cascaded down the device and poured directly into Agatha. Her head slammed back and she screamed as the energies swirled around her.

Suddenly the power cut off. Released from its grasp, she limply slumped forward. Throughout the apparatus, smoke poured from vents. Busbars had melted and fuses had overloaded.

The three Geisters opened their eyes and stared at the motionless girl before them. Shrdlu sighed. “I think we have killed another one.”

“NO!” Vrin violently shook her head in denial. “No! I was so sure! I am sure! This was the girl!” She looked at Agatha. “Have I erred? Can it be the machine itself that is flawed?”

A small moan came from the seated figure. All of the Geisters started in surprise. “She’s alive!” Vrin smacked the other two into action. “Get her out of there!”

Quickly, the restraints holding Agatha were removed. But even when released, she remained limp and made no voluntary motion. Suddenly she gasped and her eyes flew open to stare blankly at the three women leaning in towards her. “Hfgm,” she burbled.

Eotain looked distraught. “Well, at least she’s alive. Surely that counts for something—”

“Silence!” Vrin snapped. She grabbed Agatha’s jaw and pulled her face towards her own. “Can you understand me?” She spoke in the Geisterdamen’s own language.

Agatha looked at her owlishly. “Gominal,” she whispered. Vrin dropped her hand, turned away and sighed.

Shurdlu shrugged. “Another vegetable.”

Eotain looked unsure. Agatha was staring at the three now and feebly thrashing about in her seat. “I don’t know...” Eotain said slowly. “This one seems... different.”

Vrin’s head snapped up. Cold fury was reflected on her face. “No. She is gone.” Agatha’s hand twitched towards her, and clasped her sleeve. With a casual back hand, Vrin cracked Agatha across the face, spilling her out of the machine. “She is useless to us.”

Without another thought, she turned away, her mind already planning ahead. “Come,” she said to the others. “We must leave this place quickly.”

Shurdlu looked troubled. “You will leave The Lady’s devices in the hands of those children?”