Agatha H. and the Clockwork Princess

Tarvek shook his head. “Not this one. Not at first, but in time. We still have to find out how it works. My uncle wasn’t able to recover the creator’s notes. A pity, that.” He sighed. “But once we’ve relocated, we’ll find a minor Spark and infect them with it under controlled conditions. With that data, and with the spent engine to reverse engineer, we should be able to duplicate it, and construct as many of them as your Lady wishes.”

Vrin reluctantly looked impressed, and Tarvek spun the tiny sphere on a fingertip. “And then this little bauble will hand us the Empire.”

Vrin looked like she had something to say about the word “us,” but at that moment, another priestess entered and hurried up to them. “Lady Vrin,” she said respectfully, “All of the Lady’s devices have been removed.”

Vrin nodded. She looked at Tarvek and smiled. “Excellent. Prepare the charges to collapse the tunnels. All traces of our Lady’s work must be erased. Bring in fuel for the fires, enough that there is no trace of this chapel.”

“What?” Tarvek exclaimed. “A fire? In my family’s castle? I think not.”

Vrin gently placed her hand upon the pommel of her sword. “Putting your family’s castle ahead of the safety of our Lady? You disloyal pig. A fire in the chapel will ensure—”

Tarvek interrupted her. “—That the Baron’s Questor will examine the place with a fine tooth comb! You couldn’t do anything more suspicious!”

Vrin’s grin faltered. “But we must hide—”

Tarvek rolled his eyes and strode over to a wall. Without even counting, he gently pressed down on a particular brick. “You people,” he sneered, “Have all the finesse of a Jagermonster sandwich.”

The room rumbled, and before the Geisterdamen’s startled eyes, walls, floors and the ceiling split and folded, spun and dropped around them, and less than thirty seconds later, the chapel laboratory had been transformed into a rather neglected looking library filled with old books.

Vrin blinked in astonishment as the dust settled. Tarvek stepped up behind her. “We have had the Baron’s people visit Sturmhalten before, you know,” he said conversationally.

The chief priestess glared at him and then strode off. Tarvek watched her go, and then pocketing the sphere and humming a tune, he went looking for Lucrezia, who he found dressed in traveling clothes in a small laboratory attached to one of the parlors.

When you had Sparks in residence, having quick access to materials and equipment became a high priority. Architects and decorators learned to just swallow their objections and expect the client to want a smelting furnace next to the master bedroom.

“My dear lady,” he said as he entered. “I would appreciate it if you would have your servants refrain from trying to ignite parts of my house.”

Lucrezia looked surprised. “Oh. Well, if you wish. I rather thought when we were done, you could just build another one. Besides, a fire can be so jolly on a chilly night.”

Tarvek considered this and carefully removed his spectacles and cleaned them with a bit of silk. “Yesss—In a running, screaming, trying to save life and property sort of way...” he allowed.

“Anyway, we’ve been having so much fun!” She gestured, and Tarvek noticed the occupant of the nearest chair with a small start of surprise.

“Come, come,” Lucrezia said, pulling at his arm, “I’ve been telling her our plans!” She turned to the chair. “This is Tarvek Sturmvarous, my dear!”

The occupant of the chair smiled. “Heavens! He does look like dear Wilhelm! Possibly a bit handsomer!”

Lucrezia grinned. “Isn’t he though!”

Tarvek made a graceful bow. “Hello, my Lady. It is, as ever, an honor to meet you.”

“Ooh, and so polite! Well, we always did have exquisite taste.”

Tarvek started. Lucrezia laughed girlishly. “Oh, he’s not ours, dear. Not like that.” She sensuously brushed her fingers down her front. “He’s gone all sentimental over The Girl.”

“Pish,” the other replied. “Between the two of us, we’ll soon change that.”

Lucrezia sighed. “Now, now, we mustn’t be selfish. Besides, he still plays with dolls, and I’m not sure that he’s ever—”

A scarlet-faced Tarvek executed a stiff bow. “If you’ll excuse me, ladies,” he said frostily. And strode off.

“Oh, now we’ve embarrassed him.”

Lucrezia smiled devilishly. “Yes, he’s so stuffy. Just like dear Klaus, remember?”

“Oh yes, this will be fun.”

Tarvek stood next to a roaring fire in the fireplace of one of the smaller workrooms. He was emptying out a set of file boxes, perusing their contents, and then tossing the papers into the flames. A great many people on Castle Wulfenbach would have wanted to see those papers, and Tarvek took a quiet satisfaction in watching them blacken and curl before they ignited.

Suddenly, he raised his head slightly. “Ah, there you are, Veilchen. I trust you had a pleasant trip?”

There was a pause, and then the cloaked assassin stepped from behind the doorway, a worried look on what was visible of his face. “How did you—?”

Tarvek fished a small device from his pocket. “Please. You can’t sneak up on me.”

The assassin peered at the device and then glanced at Tarvek with a renewed look of respect. “I thought that was just your watch.”

“Good.” Tarvek smiled as he tucked it back into his waistcoat pocket. From another inside pocket he drew out a bizarrely shaped key. “This will allow you access to the controls for the lightning moat and the drawbridge. From what I’ve been able to observe of the crowds outside, Anevka should be ready to move.” He glanced out the window and gauged the lightening sky. “We want everything done in daylight, so let her in when the tower clock strikes seven.”

Veilchen took the key. Tarvek continued. “Now this is important. I believe that the Baron’s Questor is already in Sturmhalten. We want him here at the Castle, but not too early. Try to keep him out until eleven.”

“I don’t suppose you know what he or she looks like?” Veilchen asked sourly.

Tarvek smiled. “Not a clue. But if it was easy, I wouldn’t have you do it.”

Veilchen shrugged modestly and bowed. “Thank you, your majesty.” He paused. “You might be interested to know that there was a rescue party coming for some girl.”

Tarvek paused. “I am interested.”

“They were some of her companions from the circus you took her from. They saved your sister from some Geisterdamen in the sewers. They were an odd lot. A lover, I’m guessing, a female barbarian from somewhere I’ve never heard of, a talking cat...” he paused, “—and three Jagermonsters.”

Tarvek frowned. “A real talking cat? How odd. I’m assuming that you took care of them.”

Veilchen nodded slowly. “I did.”

Tarvek turned back to the fire. “A pity. A real talking cat. I would have liked to have seen that.” Veilchen shook his head and with a ripple of his cloak, was gone.

Tarvek stood nodding for several seconds after he was sure that Veilchen had actually left, then released a gust of breath. He took a tentative sniff and grimaced. “The next time you wish to sneak up on someone, my dear Veilchen,” he muttered, as he checked his watch, “Don’t come via the sewers.”

The tops of Sturmhalten Castle were glowing with a rosy dawn light as the crowds began to form before the front gate. The crackling of the lightning moat could still be faintly seen, but the charged air kept everyone back behind the low stone walls. From an upper observation deck, Anevka and Lord Selnikov gave the crowd organizers their final orders. A quiet man sidled up to his Lordship and murmured quietly in his ear. Selnikov frowned and caught Anevka’s eye. She leaned in.

“Highness,” Selnikov reported, “A rather... unusual airship was sighted last night, and this morning my people