Well Met at Mechanicsburg 27/? (AU)

[persephone_kore]

Title: Well Met at Mechanicsburg
Authors: khilari and persephone_kore
Summary: AU. Never having concluded Klaus was working for the Other, Barry Heterodyne returns to Mechanicsburg just in time to interrupt the Wulfenbach takeover. As Barry and Klaus tackle Europa's problems and settle into their new responsibilities, Aaronev's plotting sends Tarvek to join Agatha and Gil in a new friendship that may disrupt everyone's plans.

Chapter 27: In Which Klaus Is Not a Kraken



The children had settled down to concentrate on their clank dragon and didn't seem to be about to blow anything up, but you never knew. Klaus watched them intently. Barry did too, for a while, but he had to check in on the Jägers again, because nobody else was permitted to deal with the worst injuries, and eventually sleep.

Klaus did have other things to worry about as well. Boris kept trying to bring them to him. "Boris," Klaus said, forcing himself to focus on reading the latest set of orders before he signed them, "for your last... three sets of suggestions, I haven't changed anything." They had mostly involved the care of the people in the camps. The residents of Sturmhalten, who were terrified by being revealed as revenants, had been separated from the visitors, who were terrified of being surrounded by revenants. "I am authorising you to implement them without me. Go."

Boris looked appalled. "Herr Baron, I'm a librarian. I'm not--"

"You're organising everyone perfectly well and haven't even tried to put anyone on a shelf." Not even a twitch of a smile. Klaus supposed Boris was tired, but he was beginning to think the man really didn't have a sense of humour. Perhaps being forced to play the jester would wipe it out of anyone. "I am trying to keep an eye on three child Sparks in the midst of breakthrough. Would you prefer that task?"

Boris took a hurried step back. "I'll report in an hour, sir."

Klaus returned to his own post, muttering, "Good enough." He'd just as soon Sturmvoraus forgot he was there again.

It was definitely less than an hour when Boris returned again. "Herr Baron--"

"There's a crisis, isn't there."

Boris shrugged helplessly. "Not as such. Now that everyone who managed to sleep is waking up, I've had it announced that the wasps are dead, that the citizens of Sturmhalten will not be killed for being revenants and will be permitted to return home, and that our side only... ah... developed a method to counter the Geisterdamen's direct orders rather than for general use. That is correct, is it not?"

Klaus eyed him. "Yes. I suppose they'll probably be more reassured when you can get Barry to tell them, but that doesn't explain why you're here."

A sigh. "It seems the von Blitzengaards were in town for the winter and they insist on the right to speak with you directly."

Klaus rubbed a hand over his face. "At least they got out of the town." The combined threat of wasps and Teufel's poison had effectively got everyone moving. Klaus was not enthusiastic about answering a demand to speak with anybody, but it was possible he should go anyway. For one thing, Sturmvoraus credited his primary claim on the throne to his mother. Her younger sister had married the Count von Blitzengaard, and therefore, Hengst's son Martellus... probably called for personal investigation. "Fine. Get me Lilith and Adam Clay."

He met them at the door to the lab a few minutes later, and they peered past him into it. "This is what you're worried about?" Lilith murmured, looking at the children absorbed in their work.

"Agatha proposed introducing a gas buoyancy system and combining it with the fuel supply for a flamethrower."

Adam's eyebrows shot up. Lilith said, a little teasingly, "And she could be talked down from that? They are doing well."

Klaus rolled his eyes. "Why do I feel as if Barry and I should take that as a critique...."

"Heh. You're better than most." Lilith patted his shoulder. "We'll look after them, but do hurry back."

Klaus made another quick sweep through the laboratory for high-energy equipment before leaving, although he didn't have much confidence in this as a preventive measure, and headed for an outflier. Actual quarantine was frankly hopeless at this point, but he wasn't going to start ferrying potential revenants up to Castle Wulfenbach on purpose.

The camp was fairly orderly. There were no Jägers in sight, which probably kept everyone calmer. Klaus wasn't sure if Boris had chosen not to send any or simply hadn't had the option given their heavy involvement in the fighting last night. His own soldiers watched both the inner and outer perimeters and divided the visitors' camp from the Sturmhalten one. Guarding them from each other.

As he walked through the Sturmhalten residents' camp, a few people watched him in mute exhausted terror and most avoided his eyes. Klaus rubbed a hand over his face and wondered whether it would even be possible to reassure them, after they'd been driven into combat by Geisterdamen and then out of their homes. Barry had mostly eradicated the rumour that Klaus himself was secretly the Other, or in league with the Other, and had viciously attacked Europe in vengeance for lost love and then returned to pick up the pieces.... This probably wasn't going to help.

He found the von Blitzengaards' tent and stepped inside.

Young Martellus stood with his chin up and hands on his hips in the centre of it, and a sea of glowing-eyed Sparkhounds all sat up around him at once.

It occurred to Klaus that it was possible he should have brought in backup.

He held his composure and surveyed the tent slowly. A dozen Sparkhounds, which someone should really have mentioned to him, but might not have recognised. Various ages, all young, perhaps three adult. A girl of about twelve, presumably Xerxsephnia. No sign of their parents. He swept his eyes back up to Martellus and said mildly, "Are you under the impression you're threatening me?"

The boy's confidence faltered, just a little, but he puffed up more to make up for it. He opened his mouth, and a chorus of shrill voices started singing the Ride of the Valkyries.

Klaus looked involuntarily and incredulously toward the sound. Martellus stopped with his mouth open, turned a dull red, and lunged to clap a lid onto the large box sitting by Xerxsephnia's feet. This had very little effect, as the lid was full of air holes.

Klaus followed him over, stepping carefully between Sparkhound puppies with wagging tails, and lifted the lid against Martellus's efforts to hold it down. Several very tiny bears looked up at him and redoubled their volume at this evidence of interest. Klaus released the lid and looked at Martellus. "You were going to say?"

"I--" Martellus recovered slightly. "I demand an explanation for this outrage!"

"Which one?"

"What?"

"There seem to have been a considerable number," said Klaus, "prominent among them that Prince Aaronev proves to have conspired with the Other to fill his town with Geisterdamen, hive engines, and revenants. Barry and I are doing our best to remedy this situation without harming the innocent. I must admit I hope your father wasn't involved, but I'm rather concerned by his absence."

"You won't have him, you--!"

"What my brother means," Xerxsephnia said, and Martellus, remarkably, fell silent. "Is that we'd like a little more explanation of your countermeasures. Please."

Of his countermeasures? Not what he was going to do to those who had been involved? "I believe our short term countermeasures have been announced. In the long term we hope to develop a cure for revenants, but everyone should be able to return to the town once the poison dissipates. They've been leading normal lives, I see no reason to prevent them continuing." Except a town reliant on trade suddenly having a reputation for being full of revenants wasn't going to be able to go back to normal. He and Barry should be able to provide help, at least no one would starve, but he wasn't sure what would happen in the long term.

They both stared at him. Xerxsephnia looked suddenly very young in a way that reminded him of Anevka (when she'd opened the door, before he suggested she might mean to be dangerous). She wet her lips and said, "A cure?"

"We can't guarantee anything, but of course I'm going to have people work on it," Klaus began, and then stopped. He'd thought their father might be part of this conspiracy, that they were protecting him from justice. But not everyone in the Fifty Families was a Spark. "We're not planning to hurt any of the revenants," he said, more gently, even if her apparent vulnerability might be an act. "We had them commanded last night because the Geisterdamen were ordering them to their deaths. Without the need to counter that we won't be doing it again."

"If you can-- No one puts down that kind of power," said Martellus, scowling. Xerxsephnia looked at him and her lips thinned; Klaus, having received a number of shut up you tactless nitwit glares in his day, recognised the expression.

"The Lord Heterodyne wouldn't let me use it again if I wanted to," said Klaus. And Agatha would be very annoyed if it was asked of her for reasons other than lifesaving. "Besides which, half my army would rebel if I looked like I was making a habit of it. Whatever else you can say about Jägers they don't put up with mind control."

They both looked rather surprised at that. Possibly Mechanicsburg's distaste for the practice didn't exactly get around. Xerxsephnia cleared her throat. "That is encouraging," she said. "But, ah, in relation... so to speak... to Prince Aaronev, may I ask what you're doing with our cousins?"

"They're currently at the school," said Klaus. "Neither of them are being blamed for this, but I have reason to think they'll be safer with us for now than with their family."

"I'm rather fond of them, actually," Xerxsephnia said, sounding a bit shocked. A bit too shocked, given what Klaus knew of that family even under normal circumstances. Martellus nudged her slightly, and she sighed. "But I suppose you'll be investigating everyone, of course."

"Yes," said Klaus. "We're investigating the adults of your family. We are also extending an invitation to the children to join our school, which would include both of you if you're interested."

They blinked at him. "Invitation," Xerxsephnia said, sounding rather uncertain.

"Not as hostages," said Klaus. Because I have evidence that doesn't work with your family. Barry would be better at this, talking nervous people into seeing the advantages of an offer, and he wouldn't be fighting the urge to say it was an attempt to teach them better than some of their parents.

"I'm not sure the practical effect wouldn't be the same," Xerxsephnia said pensively, "but I can see where it would seem a little late in most cases."

"Seffie," said Martellus, in a low voice, "They're going to see us as compromised regardless."

She looked up at him sharply, then nodded.

Seffie. The last time Klaus had head that name mentioned it had been Tarvek talking to Anevka, it hadn't come to mind when he'd been called down to talk to Xerxsephnia, although he could have guessed it was her if he'd been thinking of it. "Xerxsephnia," he said. "You told your cousin you thought the Geisterdamen were a danger to Agatha Heterodyne, didn't you?" Which meant she hadn't known, any more than Anevka or Tarvek had, what the plan there had been.

Xerxsephnia swallowed. "I learned as much of their language as I could. The way they talked about their holy child... sounded like a sacrifice." Her mouth tightened. "And they talked, sometimes, like they wondered if someone else wouldn't do as well. I wanted to stay in Blitzengaard for the winter, but Father--" She bit the complaint off.

"Your father wanted to stay here?" Klaus asked sharply. Wanted to or been ordered to -- and if he had wanted to, then why would a revenant want to stay around those who could control him?

"They got to him," Martellus said, sullen and defiant, the information flung down like an unwanted prize. "I just knocked him over the head before he could go and fight."

"You won't take our word for it, of course," Xerxsephnia took over, "but not all of the family liked Uncle Aaronev's plans. Father was one of the ones working against the Other. But the rest can't possibly have known he was a revenant himself." She bit her lip. "Now they'll probably think I am, and they won't trust Martellus."

"Is this what you meant by being compromised?" asked Klaus. He wasn't entirely sure he believed her, but it was something to look into while investigating this mess, and he didn't disbelieve her. It wasn't implausible, it would just be something she'd probably say whether it was true or not.

She looked down. "Yes. Mostly. Anyone who was working with Prince Aaronev will probably have wanted us out of the way before we could talk to you. We've had a few assassins drop by already."

Klaus looked at the half grown Sparkhounds filling the tent. "Is that what the dogs are for?"

One of them stood, ears perking, and Martellus ruffled the top of its head. "They don't hurt," he said.

"I really think you'd better come up to the school, if I can convince you, and perhaps bring your father as well," Klaus said. "It sounds like you've been taking care of yourselves, but you're not safe here." He was going to have a word with his guards about letting assassins through.

"We did notice that," Xerxsephnia said ruefully. "Martellus?"

"We accept your word and the Lord Heterodyne's," he said formally. Then, with a grimace, "You're not going to want me to bring the dogs, are you?"

"On an airship?" Xerxsephnia said, making a face, as the Sparkhounds all simultaneously started whining.

...And then started talking. "Not go with Master?" "We go with Master!" "Go!" "Yes, we go!" "Master, we go, please?" "Please?" "Please?" "Please?" "Please?" "Please?" "Please?" "Please?"

"No," said Klaus firmly. They all crouched down at the tone and looked pleadingly at Martellus through glowing goggles. Talking Sparkhounds. Actually rather impressive, but potentially even worse to bring aboard than regular ones. Martellus would effectively have a private army. Agatha's the only student who gets one of those, he thought wryly.

"They're really young," Martellus said.

"I can find someone to take care of them." The Jägers probably would, they were also pack hunters and could have a lot of fun taking the Sparkhounds out to hunt the local mountains. "But while they sound unusually intelligent, I don't think I can enroll them all."

Martellus snorted and then sighed. "They wouldn't have room to run anyway."

It took some minor manoeuvring to get the von Blitzengaard children up to the school, mostly because for different reasons neither Martellus nor Klaus was willing to leave the Sparkhounds unattended and Klaus therefore had to send off for someone who could actually handle them. In the meantime Martellus gave away a little more about the extent of Mongfish involvement by explaining that Lucifer had distributed puppies to a variety of dubiously enthusiastic recipients, and he, Martellus, had gone around and collected them and was pretty sure his modifications would breed true, which was both fascinating and somewhat alarming.

Somewhat against his better judgement, Klaus relented on the box of operatic bears, after inspecting a randomly selected sample over the course of a highly indignant aria. He thought the school could probably cope with them, although he sternly told Martellus they could not be permitted to be disruptive, which finally made the boy look daunted.

When he did get them there, Anevka was awake. She and Seffie gasped and flung themselves melodramatically into each other's arms while Martellus rolled his eyes, but Klaus thought there might be some real feeling behind it. Klaus quietly told Otilia to call him if anybody appeared to have been poisoned, and left them to their reunion.

Klaus had quietly sent for food without quite taking his eyes off the children. Breakthrough was an obsessive time, but also one of heightened senses and appetites, and it wasn't too difficult to steer them toward the tempting smells. They were predictably ravenous, and just as predictably started drooping as the excitement of the work wore off and digestion kicked in.

Barry took Agatha's hand, and she perked up approximately halfway to look around. "Huh? Where're we going?"

"Bed. You can go back to the lab in the morning."

"But I--" She yawned. "...Okay. I need--" Her drowsy eyes suddenly went wide. "I left Princess Stompy Boots! I have to go back to Sturmhalten!"

"We can't do that--"

"We have to! I left her! I didn't mean to leave her and I have to get her back!"

"Agatha, the town is contaminated with--"

This was apparently the wrong tack for once, or perhaps there really wasn't a right one with a traumatised five-year-old in breakthrough. Agatha started wailing, pulled her hand away from Barry, and flung herself on the floor.

Barry sighed and sat down crosslegged on the floor in the heart of the noise, close enough to rest a hand on Agatha's back while she kicked and pounded on the floor. Klaus suspected he was cheating by heterodyning very quietly. Gil and Tarvek were wide awake again and looking anxiously at each other and Agatha as if they thought she might need repairs.

Klaus opened the door from their test hangar into the hallway. The guards outside looked just about as alarmed by the howling that emerged around him. "Go get Lilith Clay," he said. "It might help." He shut the door on them again and went back over to where the boys were conferring. "Don't look so worried," he said. "She is only five."

"But she's never done this before," said Gil, still sounding like he was talking about an invention.

"Oh yes she has," Barry said, although Klaus wasn't quite sure how he'd heard Gil over the screaming.

"You have, too," Klaus said. Of course Gil didn't remember. That probably wasn't one of the greater losses, which was part of why Klaus could enjoy being able to admit that he remembered it. Although it was probably completely unfair to be entertained by the dubious look Gil gave him.

"Should we get her other toys?" Tarvek asked, sounding rather uncertain about whether this would work.

Klaus wasn't really sure either. "It probably wouldn't hurt, but she might be fixated on that one. You two could go on to bed, however. You don't actually have to stay and listen."

Gil and Tarvek looked at each other, some agreement being reached there without words. "We'll go and get her toys," said Gil.

"Very well. ...Not by yourselves." Klaus gestured them toward the door and followed them out.

The boys had to be told they didn't actually need to run to Agatha's room, but were tired enough to slow down after the reminder. Once inside Gil grabbed a duck toy off the end of the bed. Tarvek picked a giant mimmoth up off the floor and then looked stricken. "Andy! I haven't been back to check on him, or anything, I was thinking about the dragon..."

"I'm sure he's fine," said Klaus, "but you can check on him while we're here." Klaus was inclined to think pets one liked as they were should probably be left in someone else's care during breakthrough, but a supervised visit should be safe enough.

Tarvek handed him the toy mimmoth and rushed to his own room. As soon as he got the door open, the midmoth inside (which really was about the size of the toy) galloped up to cavort around its master's knees, trumpeting happily.

Naturally, doors opened all up and down the corridor. Klaus was a little more surprised to hear the operatic bears again, although he probably shouldn't have been, and Martellus popped out into the hall next to him. "Hey! Andy!" he said, and then actually spotted Klaus, looked back into his room in alarm, and slammed the door. This muted the bears somewhat.

"Just quiet them down in time for everyone to go back to sleep," said Klaus. "I think it's hopeless at the moment."

"Tweedle," said Tarvek, sounding like he wasn't sure whether to be pleased or worried, although Andy happily ran up and wrapped his trunk around Martellus's wrist. "When did you get here?"

"This morning." Martellus (Tweedle?) patted the midmoth on the head. "Where were you all day, and how come the DuMedd boy thinks he runs this school?"

"Building a dragon clank. I've been breaking through," said Tarvek, like a flung gauntlet. It was almost certain his cousin hadn't broken through this young. "And if you're mad because Theo tried to get you to be nice, maybe you should actually try it."

Martellus looked skeptical. "You're eight."

"Where's Agatha?" Theo broke in. More concerned about his cousin, Klaus noted, than Martellus's opinion. Good for him. "Madame Otilia said she was all right, but--"

"Also in breakthrough," Klaus told him.

Theo gaped at him. "But she's five!"

"Yes. And rather upset about the whole situation. I assure you I've appreciated Gilgamesh and Tarvek both being somewhat calmer."

"Oh dear," Theo murmured. "Can we do anything?"

"This is ridiculous," said Martellus.

"It's not," said Tarvek. "We're building a clank dragon that can really fly and if that's not enough for you to believe I'm a Spark I can prove it." He started looking around appraisingly, which was a worrying sign in any Spark not actually in a lab, still more from one in breakthrough.

"A live dragon would have been more interesting," said Martellus, while everyone else except Gil, Theo, and Sleipnir edged subtly back a step.

"Agatha already has one of those," Tarvek said scornfully, as if building a superfluous live dragon were the most idiotic suggestion imaginable. Klaus firmly suppressed the impulse to point out that Franz didn't sing. "She had a flying clank dragon too, but not big enough for three people to ride."

"You and your clanks!" Martellus said. "I suppose I should be grateful it's not more of the damned wasps!"

"You knew about the wasps as much as I did! I didn't make them! I didn't have anything to do with it!" Tarvek's fists were clenched at his sides and under the anger there was a note of panic, as if he didn't quite believe it himself, perhaps, or as if he was afraid no one around him would.

"He helped us fight," Gil said loudly, glaring at Martellus. "He helped save Agatha."

"Well, that's a first," Martellus snapped.

"And what did you do about anything?" Tarvek shouted back. "Except make stupid bears and pretend you're better because you don't have to live with it."

“Some of us have been trying to stop your father's stupid plans, you little--"

Andy lifted his trunk. Martellus's mouth kept moving, but whatever he'd tried to call Tarvek was drowned out by a distressed "BweeeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

Tarvek stepped forward and picked Andy up, hugging him tightly and still glaring at Martellus. He murmured something to the midmoth, but it was drowned out by the continuing trumpet.

Klaus, at this point, decided enough was enough. He handed the toy mimmoth to Theo and reached over to grasp Andy's trunk between finger and thumb and clamp one palm over the end of it. The racket ended in a moist snort and cough, followed by Andy feeling over his hand as if it were some sort of new and unexpected entity. "I think you've done enough, thank you," Klaus told the midmoth blandly.

“I’ll put him to bed," Tarvek muttered, pulling away from Klaus and carrying the midmoth into his room.

"Maybe you should go to bed," Martellus said, scowling, as Tarvek came back out and shut the door. "You're brattier than usual even if you do think you're in breakthrough. Just don't expect you can make the rest of his plans work out either."

"I don't need his plans any more," said Tarvek, drawing himself up. "I have my own plans now, and yours won't be needed."

Martellus looked incredulous. "You're eight," he repeated. "And apparently out of your mind."

"He did tell you he was a Spark now," Klaus said.

Tarvek shot him a "you're not helping" look, which suggested he was too far into the madness place to remember to be scared, before turning back to Martellus. "You know I have the best claim," he said. "Baron Wulfenbach is supporting it and so is the Lord Heterodyne. The Fifty Families will accept it. I'm going to have the Lightning Throne before you even get close."

Martellus's jaw actually dropped, and he swung around to look at Klaus, shocked and questioning and wary, fists clenched. Klaus noted that the older boy hadn't been the one to make their argument explicit, as if he thought Klaus might not have found out that part of the conspiracy yet. Perhaps he'd expected Aaronev to be more careful with his notes.

This hadn't exactly been how he planned to make the announcement, himself, but it wasn't as if he should have expected a nascent Spark to be circumspect. "True," he said. "You should find yourself with considerable interest in your cousin's safety, von Blitzengaard. Given the disappointing political history of Valois's descendants, if anything happens to him you are the obvious suspect."

"Why are you supporting him?" Martellus demanded, ignoring the rest of it.

"According to your admittedly tangled genealogies, he does have the best claim," said Klaus. "It would be absurd to pretend nothing would ever come of it, which leaves me with the choice of supporting him," and teaching him something better than your family's plan to grind out whatever ethics he's managed to develop, he added silently, "or treating him as an enemy."

“You've never cared about who had the right to rule Europa before," Martellus said, and then apparently realised what he'd said and actually looked worried.

Klaus let himself smile faintly, and not nicely. "Nobody else seemed to be bothering," he said. "If your relatives had troubled themselves to make and enforce peace, I would have contented myself with rebuilding Wulfenbach."

"You can't possibly think--" Martellus began.

"Tweedle." Tarvek's voice was dead level now, and warning, and belonged to a Spark who'd done battle for his life and his friends already. "You can't think you're getting anywhere that way. Drop it."

Martellus looked over at his cousin, tired and red-eyed and now holding a soft toy mimmoth... and shut his mouth.

"I suggest everyone goes back to bed," said Klaus, looking around at their audience. He was going to have to make an official announcement soon and it probably still wouldn't beat the flurry of letters home. "And we'd better get back to Agatha."

Tarvek started and looked a bit guilty. Gil still beat him to Klaus's side.

When they returned to the hangar, Agatha was no longer on the floor but sobbing against Lilith's shoulder while Barry still sat on the floor beside them. "I don't want a new one," she said. "It's not the same."

"That's true," Lilith said, which prompted a fresh burst of tears. "But it might be the best we can do."

"...We brought your other toys?" Gil said, holding out a duck tentatively.

Agatha sniffed. "But Princess Stompy Boots is still gone."

"Agatha," Lilith said gently, "your friends are trying to help you feel better."

"But I don't."

Gil dropped the duck on Lilith's lap, next to Agatha, and retreated back to Klaus's side.

Lilith patted Agatha's back and smiled sympathetically at Gil. Tarvek went over and nudged Agatha with the toy mimmoth. "You could try feeling better," he said.

Agatha turned partway around to eye him. "Does that work?"

Tarvek frowned. "Only sometimes."

"I suspect everyone will feel better for some sleep," Klaus suggested.

Agatha looked at him doubtfully. "I guess we could try it," she said.

"Consider it an experiment," Barry suggested, managing not to sound like this was at all funny. Agatha looked slightly more interested.

"An excellent idea." Klaus ruffled Gil's hair, just because he could. "Back to the school, then." A wry look at Barry. "And hope they've had time to calm back down."

Tarvek dreamed restlessly about dragons and accusing dead eyes in the palace corridors, and woke up anxious to return to the clank. Otilia took one look at him and conducted him with Gil and Agatha out of the school and into the Baron's hands. Gil flung himself on the Baron, who actually grinned and then took them straight back to the lab with the dragon, where Tarvek could concentrate on the clank joints (thinking about Otilia's all the while) and forget for a little while how jumpy he felt.

Hours later Gil was tapping at his shoulder and calling his and Agatha's names until they both finally looked up, and then Gil pointed at the table. "Hey! Food?"

The food looked good and Tarvek felt suddenly weak around the knees and upper arms, realising he hadn't eaten yet and it was probably late for lunchtime. The Baron was standing by the table, and Tarvek swallowed hard and heard Gil sigh.

Agatha dived into a seat between Adam and Lilith, chattering at them the way she had at their house if faster paced and more frantic. She was hampered slightly by Lilith telling her not to eat with her mouth full, which meant the chatter came in little bursts, followed by her wolfing down a sandwich and starting up again. Gil took a seat next to the Baron, smiling up at him as easily as Agatha smiled at Adam and Tarvek tried not to feel like he needed to be wary of that now, too. It was Gil. Who had already chosen the Baron over Tarvek once (but Gil was the Baron’s son, any of Tarvek’s family who found out would have killed him, and he hadn’t known…he hadn’t known spying risked uncovering anything like that, but what had he thought he was looking for?).

He looked away, not sure he was hungry suddenly, but picked up a sandwich anyway and discovered on the first bite that neither nerves nor guilt were a match for the appetite of a Spark in breakthrough.

A short while later, as Agatha’s latest burst of speech died down, Gil swallowed a last bite of sandwich with what looked like an effort and said, "I think we're almost done!"

The Baron looked over at the dragon. "Already? It's only been a few days."

"Well," Gil said reasonably, "we've been working on it for months. We just had to rebuild it so it'd actually work."

The Baron grinned. "Ah. Yes. The finishing touches."

They were not, as it turned out, almost done. It seemed as if they should have been, but then the wings wouldn’t move in sync, and they had to strip half the chest mechanisms to get to the cogwheel that was out of alignment, and then they got that working, only to find they’d failed to reconnect a wire in the steering system after doing it and had to do half of it again, and then one of the joints in the tail went out of alignment testing the steering and they were halfway through fixing that when Tarvek’s vision started going blurry and his head felt heavy and he just rested it on his arms for a moment…

He half woke into a muzzy, dazed state where his brain was telling him something was happening but still too tired to really be sure what. He was being carried in someone’s arms, which hadn’t been a familiar sensation since he was much younger. He blinked his eyes open sleepily and looked up to find he was being carried by the Baron. It was enough for him to tense up, which made the Baron look down at him. “Ah, you’re awake.”

“What are you doing?” Tarvek asked, blearily.

“Putting you to bed,” said the Baron, continuing to stride along the corridor.

“But why?”

“Because you could hardly sleep on your workbench all night.”

“I mean…why you?” Tarvek clarified after a few minutes of trying to sort out why that answer wasn’t satisfying.

“I was there,” said the Baron. “Not much point in coming to the school to get someone else when I could just as easily bring you with me.” He pushed open the door to the school and walked through - it must be late, only a few of the older students were still up and they didn’t even look surprised. Oh. He’d probably carried Gil and Agatha through already. The door to Tarvek’s bedroom swung open and the Baron pulled the cover back with one hand and set Tarvek on it. Andy’s soft breathing could be heard from his nest. Tarvek let his eyes fall closed, and a moment later felt a gentle tugging as his shoes were taken off. He opened them again to see the Baron kneeling at the foot of his bed, setting a shoe on the floor.

The Baron’s lip twitched as Tarvek stared and Tarvek said, more muzzy than accusing, “You’re laughing at me.”

“A little,” said the Baron. “You look as if a kraken just crawled up from the deeps to put you to bed. I’m not quite so terrifying as I pretend to be, and I’ve put children to bed before.”

“But you rule Europa,” said Tarvek, flopping back down onto the pillow and staring at the ceiling. Bits of his brain were telling him to keep an eye on the Baron, but he didn’t feel like he was in danger. Just rather confused.

“One day you’ll have children of your own and since you’ll also be ruling Europa at the time I’m going to remind you you said that,” said the Baron, taking Tarvek’s other shoe off and pulling the covers up.

Tarvek yawned. “Will I?”

“With any luck. If you want a prophecy ask your Muses.”

“I don’t understand you at all.” It was meant to be a thought, not said aloud and plaintive.

The Baron’s hand reached down towards his face and Tarvek held his breath, feeling his heart thump sharply, before the Baron lifted his glasses off and folded them. “Not everyone wants power,” he said, pensively. “I didn’t.”

“But you took it.”

“I came back to Europa to find my home destroyed and decided it wasn’t going to happen again,” said the Baron.

“I understand that,” said Tarvek, turning his face into the pillow.

“Sturmhalten will be fine,” said the Baron, he was hovering over the bed, his shadow over Tarvek, and for a moment it seemed as if there might be something else, but he turned away. “Go to sleep. We’ll take care of it.”

Tarvek blinked, eyelids heavy, then let them fall closed and did as he was told. He didn’t have much choice.

The dragon took days, which was a little frustrating but also immense fun. In the end, Gil regarded the finished dragon with a mix of delight and disappointment. It was perfect, dark steel-blue with a flexible lobster-tail for steering, although they'd had to make the front claws small so they wouldn't weigh it down, and four big fanlike wings with just enough room for three seats between the pairs. But it was almost sunset. "We'll hardly have time to fly at all before dark today," he said. "Maybe if we put on lights?"

"The dark doesn't matter for today," his father said firmly. "Your test flight will be indoors." Tarvek, to Gil's further irritation, looked relieved. His father added, "I've had an area prepared for you already."

His father hoisted the dragon over one shoulder, which looked ridiculous and impressive at the same time -- it was big even with the wings folded, and as light as they'd been able to make it was still really heavy, and he'd picked it up before Gil considered telling him they had also made it able to walk.

They went to a hangar, and Gil looked longingly at the big doors before scanning the rest of the room. There was a balcony for maintenance on some of the taller outfliers, which they could maybe launch from if the dragon turned out to need a high start, and... there were foam and inflatable cushions all over the room.

His father put the dragon down. Tarvek and Agatha and her uncle swarmed over it, poking at things and making last-minute adjustments, and Gil took a step toward them and then stopped and looked up. "You don't think it's gonna work," he said accusingly.

"It may well work. But if it does the cushions won't stop it, and if it doesn't you'll need them," said his father levelly.

"It will," Gil said. "We'll show you."

"I'll look forward to it," said his father.

Gil frowned at him, feeling unsatisfied. It always sounded like Sparks in stories almost didn't mind being doubted because then they got to show everybody how wrong they were, but he thought it was kind of spoiling the fun. Then again those were mostly the bad Sparks, so maybe he wasn't supposed to like it. He'd like it if the dragon worked though. When the dragon worked. He went over to join Agatha and Tarvek, taking Barry's place as Barry went over to join his father, bouncing a little on the cushions.

"I appreciate the safety precautions," Barry said, sounding amused. Gil wasn't sure if he was laughing at him or his father. "I'm impressed that you managed to pad an entire hangar."

"I remember my breakthrough project," his father said, then under his breath and almost too soft to hear, "vaguely."

Gil looked over before he thought that almost too soft to hear for him was probably not meant to be heard, and said, "What do you mean, vaguely?" His stomach was flipping a little. Even with his memory problems, he couldn't imagine ever forgetting this.

His father looked rather taken aback for a moment and looked at Barry, before saying, "When I was in my teens an experiment went wrong and blew up." He pulled back his right sleeve to show a line of stitching. "My parents managed to repair the damage, but...well. Amnesia is a common side effect."

"...Oh." Gil swallowed. It hadn't occurred to him that his father might know what not remembering was like from inside, and for sort of the same reason. He looked down at the dragon. "Sorry I complained about the cushions."

His father stepped over and ruffled his hair. "It's all right. But taking precautions is never a bad idea, no matter how confident you are in your design."

"Okay." Gil looked up at him and saw that he was smiling, and managed to smile back. Tarvek was looking thoughtful instead of worried about the dragon. Gil climbed onto it -- he didn't really expect Tarvek to insist on the front seat and steering it, but he thought Agatha might, but she didn't -- and waited for the other two to get settled before activating the dragon clank.

Its little red eyes lit up, and he felt the motors thrum. All the wings fanned open and started beating. The cushions rippled under the force of the wind.

He leaned forward. The dragon ran a little way, smacked the floor with its tail, and launched into the air.

It wasn't quite like flying outside. Gil missed the wind currents, he missed the space; he imagined following the seagulls like this and pulled the dragon into a gently rising spiral, imagining it as a drawn out corkscrew each turn throwing them higher aloft. But they were flying, and without gasbags, on something they'd designed themselves. He let the last turn take them close up against one wall and then pulled the lever back and leant forward. The dragon obediently half-tucked its wings and swooped across the hangar.

"Gil!" Tarvek shouted.

Gil laughed. "It's on purpose!" he shouted back, feeling Tarvek grab his waist and then let go quickly as he realised that would interfere with the steering. Gil leant back and twisted the lever back and up, and the dragon spread its wings and banked just short of the wall, back claws scraping it slightly with a drawn out scratching sound as it sailed back into the centre of the room.

"Don't do that to the windows," his father called up to him, sounding cheerful again.

Agatha giggled behind him, and Gil spiraled back down. He came in for a slightly harder landing than intended, but the dragon's claws didn't puncture the cushions and the whole thing bounced up again a couple of times. Gil grinned up at his father. "So can we try it outside now?"

"Not at night," said his father, firmly. "Perhaps in daylight."

"Aww." Gil considered. "Tomorrow?" Tomorrow wouldn't be so bad.

"Tomorrow," his father agreed. "A short flight. Don't go shooting off across the sky."

"Maybe a longer one afterward?" Gil asked hopefully.

His father sighed, but he was almost smiling, too. "Maybe. Do you have a power gauge built in?"

"Yes!" Tarvek piped up. He climbed off the dragon and ducked around one of the front wings to point to the dial on its head, above the controls. "I made that."

"Good. It's remarkable work -- all of you -- but before you consider taking it outdoors, I think you should calibrate the gauge."

Gil looked at him quickly. "Does that mean more indoor flying?"

His father did smile then. "Yes. But when the power starts dropping off, fly low."

"I will." Gil grinned. "C'mon, Tarvek, get back on."

"I think I'll watch for a bit," Tarvek said. "Don't let Agatha fall off."

"I am not going to fall off," Agatha said indignantly. "I have a safety harness and hands."

"Yes," Tarvek said patiently, "but if you hold on to Gil he can't steer."

Gil leant forward and once again the dragon slapped its tail against the floor, spread its wings and launched.