De Profundis 5/5
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Epilogue
Out of the Depths
By the time final repairs outside Castle Heterodyne were complete and Gil and Agatha had had far too much fun recharging its energy supply by playing with the lightning stick on the roof in the rain, someone had started a rumor that Klaus was in the hospital, not at the hospital (where Sun had granted him a temporary office not far from Punch and Judy’s lab). Thus, the end of the week found Mechanicsburg besieged, which the attackers-most of the “duckiest qvacks” in Europa, as Gkika said-thought was opportune because the empire’s forces were busy following up on Tarvek’s information about Lucrezia’s loyalists among the Knights of Jove. The castle thoroughly enjoyed proving the lunatics wrong.
Von Blitzengaard did show up in the middle of the mess, undaunted by everything the castle was throwing at the other besiegers. Agatha told the castle to let Gil take care of it. And Gil did so-with extreme prejudice. Klaus had never been so proud of his son, or so amused by the twist of a battle: the man from the Lightning Court, claiming the Lightning Throne, being killed by lightning called down by a Heterodyne.
Klaus restricted Tarvek’s involvement to strategy and analysis, and apart from a couple of shouting matches with Gil, Tarvek behaved himself and actually proved quite helpful. Young Lars, meanwhile, volunteered to help guard the portal room, since the roads were unsafe for the circus. He acquitted himself admirably by keeping calm and vigilant while some enemy, presumably the Geisterdamen, did attempt to invade that way; but the shield Agatha and Gil had designed held firm, and before Klaus could offer Lars a commission, he fell apart with a major panic attack and had to be calmed down with a pie to the face. Klaus decided neither to ask questions nor to prevent the circus from leaving with all its colorful characters intact.
Well, all but one. Tinka had convinced Moxana to stay, since Tarvek was there and Otilia would soon join them. Master Payne had allowed it only because he believed Moxana needed Tinka more than she needed the circus and because he trusted her to Agatha’s care.
Oddly enough, Klaus felt the same about Tarvek. On the one hand, while he knew the young prince to be dangerous, he also knew that Tarvek had lost everything and would more than likely be too absorbed in his work with the Muses to get up to much else in the near term. On the other hand, all Mechanicsburg was giddy with the boisterous love of its new mistress and master, and somehow Klaus could think of no more fitting punishment for Tarvek than having to witness that love firsthand and know it could never have been his. (Klaus should have seen that himself, the first time he saw Gil and Agatha standing together in Beetle’s lab. Even the castle hadn’t seriously tried to convince Agatha to attempt polyandry; it did make the suggestion, but Klaus thought the phrasing sounded more like a formality, to satisfy its own internal illogic that she would be bearing an heir.)
So when the siege was broken and the circus was underway at last, Klaus met with the children in the castle and announced his decision: “A year’s probation, Lady Heterodyne, at the end of which Mechanicsburg shall be free to leave the empire provided I am satisfied with your governance. And for Prince Tarvek, a year’s house arrest in Castle Heterodyne, at the end of which... we may consider negotiations for your installation as the Storm King.”
“We’ll need that in writing, Herr Baron,” Gil said on behalf of both of them, partly because Tarvek was, for once, stunned speechless.
Klaus knew Gil was speaking to him formally as Lord Heterodyne, but not hearing the sentence end in Father still stung. He hadn’t lost his son, not completely, but there was a distance between them now that he hadn’t recognized until the Doom Bell had rung that second time. When had he stopped thinking of Gil as the downy-headed infant he’d stolen away from Skifander and started regarding him only as the spark vassal who would one day inherit his empire?
Too long ago. Far too long ago. Long enough ago that his precious boy had jumped at the chance to become a Heterodyne instead. And now here was his daughter, as well, whom he hardly knew and who’d already lost her heart to a figure he’d only seen out the corner of his eye in the castle half a lifetime ago, when Bill and Barry had still been sure they could keep the peace without their ancestral army and Lucrezia hadn’t yet wormed her way into their lives. As kolee and sister-in-law to the Heterodyne, Zeetha had become half a Heterodyne herself. And soon-heaven alone knew how soon-he’d have grandchildren here.
Wulfenbach might be gone, but Mechanicsburg had been his second home once. He needed to make it his home again, quickly... before it was too late.
He raised his chin to keep his composure. “I’ll have Boris draw up terms before I return to speak to Punch and Judy next week. But I expect Prince Tarvek to remain in your custody in the meantime.”
Agatha glanced at Tarvek before asking, “Do you have any objection to his working on the Muses during his confinement, Herr Baron?”
“None at all. In fact, I may begin negotiations to find the rest for him to work on. Idle hands, you know, especially spark hands....”
Tarvek cleared his throat. “I hardly dare impose on your generosity further, Herr Baron, but might I ask one other concession?”
“You may ask,” Klaus replied dryly, “but the answer may be no.”
“There is a Smoke Knight here in town, my cousin Violetta. She’s currently assigned to assist Bürgermeister Zuken. Might I have her as my servant during my confinement? She would be an added safeguard against assassins, and that would keep her in the castle and thus as much in Lady Heterodyne’s custody as I shall be.”
Klaus raised an eyebrow. “What guarantee do I have that you won’t use her aid to escape?”
“And leave the Muses?!” Tarvek answered before he could think about it.
Gil ran a hand over his face, but Klaus still caught the corners of his mouth twitching with suppressed laughter.
“We could make a monitor,” Agatha conjectured, “controlled by the castle-not one that would kill you if you tried to escape, but one that summoned the Jägers and then tied your shoes together or something.”
“That might not stop Violetta,” Tarvek deadpanned. “Something that summoned Tryggvassen might.”
Gil gave up and laughed out loud.
“In all seriousness, though,” Tarvek continued, “I don’t want to escape. And not just because of the Muses. That in itself is a reason, certainly. But you know what my family’s like, Herr Baron. I’m far safer here than I’d be anywhere else in Europa.”
And the same would apply to his cousin, Klaus realized, as long as she was tied to the castle by her service to him. “Very well, I’ll allow it. And I suppose you ought also to be giving some thought to a bride, since Lady Heterodyne is unavailable.”
“Colette Voltaire,” Tarvek said at once. “We were never particularly close during my time in Paris, but it would be a useful match, and... well, I don’t think she hates me.”
“At least you’re a royal,” Gil quipped. “Half the undergrad sparks in Paris are always sighing after her and getting themselves in worse scrapes than we ever did as a result. That she hates. I think she took up with Wooster and me out of self-defense.”
“Took up with in what sense?” Tarvek asked before Klaus could. The Master of Paris had sent Klaus regular reports of what Gil had been up to, but most of them were dry fact, and he now suspected they hadn’t come close to the truth.
“As companions in adventure,” Wooster replied, bringing in a tea tray. “Everyone thought Master Gil was a rake and I was too poor even to consider courting the Master’s daughter, so there was no question of romance. But of course, we were working for her father at the time anyway. Speaking of Paris, Master Gil, the Kapellmeister wonders whether you’ve any more dance numbers the orchestra can prepare for the midsummer ball.”
“Ooh,” said Gil, considering, and took a biscuit as Wooster poured the tea. “No, I think I sent all the ones from Paris, and I haven’t had much chance for composing lately. Find out how many more he needs and when, though, and I’ll see what I can write. I certainly don’t lack for inspiration now,” he added, grinning wickedly at Agatha.
Agatha blushed and giggled. Tarvek rolled his eyes. And Klaus realized he’d never heard his son’s compositions.
“Midsummer ball,” he said mildly, accepting the teacup Wooster handed him. “I don’t suppose you’ve finalized the guest list yet?”
“Well, no,” Agatha admitted, “but I wasn’t planning to snub my own father-in-law.”
Klaus accepted the implicit rebuke with a smile, because it had sounded so much like Bill, and drank his tea.
A month later, as promised, Othar Tryggvassen, Gentleman Adventurer, caught up with Master Payne’s Circus of Adventure in a tiny town near the Black Sea. Or rather, he caught up with the circus’ advance man, Lars, who was sitting outside a tavern clutching his head.
“Here, now,” Othar boomed and clapped Lars on the shoulder, startling him. “You’re in too dark a mood for this fine summer day, my young friend.”
“Oh, it’s you, Herr Tryggvassen,” Lars sighed. “Sorry. What are you doing here?”
“Why, checking up on your Madame Olga.” Othar stopped when a wounded look crossed Lars’ face. “What is it?”
“You-oh. You mean Agatha.” Lars sighed again, more heavily. “Guess you haven’t been reading the newspapers.”
“Well... no, I’ve been... rather busy.” Othar had just escaped from prison in Bucharest, in fact, but the less said about that, the better. He sat down beside Lars. “What’s happened?”
“She’s... she’s in Mechanicsburg. Married. To the baron’s son.” Lars took a deep breath while Othar tried to fathom why a nice girl like Agatha would marry a wretch like Gilgamesh Wulfenbach. “But that’s not the problem. I mean, it’s part of the problem, but... there’s a girl here. Her father says... says I got her with child last time we were here. I barely remember her-that was almost two years ago. And I don’t... I don’t know what to do,” he moaned, clutching his head again. “I don’t want to leave Master Payne, but the show hasn’t been the same without Agatha. And yet... settling down, taking a job, having a family... or else... or else take them on the road with me, risk them in the Wastelands....”
“What would Bill Heterodyne do?”
Lars laughed bitterly. “Marry his worst enemy and get himself killed for it, apparently.”
Othar put his hand on the lad’s shoulder, more gently this time. “Well, then, what would Agatha want you to do?”
Lars took another deep breath and ran his hands down his face. “The right thing. Make an honest woman of her, and take care of my child.”
“There you are, then. Whether you settle here or stay with the circus, you know what the first step is. And there are other children with the circus, aren’t there?”
“Yeah, there’s one.” Lars suddenly huffed, and the corners of his mouth turned up a little. “And more coming. We may be switching the repertoire over the fall and winter-Pix thinks she’s pregnant. She and Abner got married two towns ago.”
A baby’s fussing suddenly interrupted the conversation, and both men looked up to see a dark-haired, pale-skinned girl coming toward them hesitantly with a child in her arms. “Lars?” she asked, grey eyes wide with fear and hope mingled.
Lars sat up straight, recognition in his eyes. “Yes.”
“I... I don’t mean to interrupt....”
“You’re not. This is Othar Tryggvassen. And... I... I’m sorry. I don’t remember your name.”
“Agata. Agata Vadimovna Glena.”
Lars couldn’t quite stifle a gasp, and Othar understood why. Glena was Ukranian for clay.
“Is something wrong?” The girl’s Romanian was hesitant, and she probably didn’t speak German, but she’d learn in due time if Lars did take her with him.
Lars shook his head and stood. “No, no, it’s just... I recently lost someone named Agatha Clay. It’s quite a coincidence.”
“Oh, yes. I... am sorry for your loss.”
“And I’m sorry I left you in trouble. May I?”
She nodded and handed him the baby. “His name is Maksym.”
He smiled, and the child quieted in his arms. “I have a friend named Maxim, in Mechanicsburg; he works for the Lady Heterodyne. It’s a good name.”
“Mechanicsburg. That is far from here.”
“Yes, it is.” He paused to marvel at his son, then looked at her again. “Agata... how bad is it here?”
“Very bad,” she confessed quietly. “My father drinks.”
“Come away with me, then. For the summer, at least; now’s a good time to travel. You can get a taste of life on the road, and if you don’t like it, we can find a new place to settle, somewhere nobody knows us.”
She gasped, and the fear in her eyes gave way to hope. “You... you mean it? You will take us?”
“Of course. What kind of hero would I be if I didn’t rescue a damsel in distress?”
She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him, and Othar tactfully ducked into the tavern. He’d need to head to Mechanicsburg soon, he supposed, since he had promised to check on Agatha and see how she was faring with the normal life she wanted, and the fact that she’d married Wulfenbach was rather worrying. But inspiring others was a hero’s job, too, and at least with Lars, it seemed she’d succeeded beyond Othar’s wildest dreams for her.
Tarvek felt the scars on his face begin to fade the moment he pushed Othar through the time window into the past, putting him on the road to preventing the disasters of Lucrezia’s triumph. He closed his eyes and hoped against hope that the timeline shift caused by Othar’s refusal to retire would be enough, that he’d saved everyone whose life had been in his hands before when he hadn’t kept Agatha out of Father’s clutches.
But no... the change tore at him, restoring his face but gouging into his chest with an ache that burned like poison. What had gone wrong?
“Tarvek!” Gil and Agatha cried at the same time, and then they were next to him, pulling him away from the machinery, out of the room, and onto a bed.
He opened his eyes and almost wept at the sight of them, here and alive, kneeling on either side of him. But it was all wrong-Gil’s face was haggard, his eyes shadowed, and he was wearing the breastplate of a Geisterdame. And there was something hard in Agatha’s eyes, holding off something else behind them, and she wore a trilobite brooch with wings at her collar. Then Tarvek looked closer and saw that it wasn’t a brooch at all... it was welded to some kind of golden choker.
“You idiot,” Gil snarled, but there were tears building. “You’re still on bed rest. The damage from that stuff von Blitzengaard stuck you with-oh, red fire, why wouldn’t you stay behind on Castle Wulfenbach?”
“Gil,” Agatha chided, sounding close to tears herself. “You know it isn’t safe anymore, not with... not with the Queen of the Dawn....”
Tarvek’s head was spinning with two sets of memories, trying to make sense of what had happened and what hadn’t. “No,” he wheezed. “No, I... I almost had it....”
“You are not trying again,” Gil ordered. “It’s not worth your life.”
“It’s... all my fault; I... didn’t change enough, Agatha, I... I’m sorry....”
“Shh,” Agatha interrupted. “Just tell us. Maybe we can make it work this time. What did you change?”
“I... sent Othar back so... so he wouldn’t retire....” Tarvek’s voice didn’t sound like it hadn’t been used in over thirty years, and he was starting to forget that other timeline. Had he really been alone so very long?
Gil shook his head. “Delirious.”
“You’re a fine one to talk,” Agatha shot back. “Othar didn’t retire, so apparently that worked; he’s just got residual memories of the previous timeline.”
“But if all that did was get us here....”
“Something has to change before I get to Sturmhalten. If Lucrezia never returns, none of this will happen.”
“Trouble is, Father would already be on the lookout for time windows if we change things after we meet, but... I... Agatha, I can’t change things any earlier than that. Never knowing you... I can’t.”
“Might not have to,” Tarvek gasped. “Keep it small.”
“Just big enough to throw something through,” said someone-von Zinzer (and who-where had he come from?). “Like a... a note or....”
Gil straightened, eyes blazing. “No, not a note. A note won’t be believed. We need to change things in such a way that no one even knows they’re changing. But yes, a small window, open for a short time-the blink of an eye, the... the turn of a head....” He jerked to his feet and ran out, pulling von Zinzer after him.
Tarvek frowned at Agatha in confusion. “What... what....”
“Shh,” she said again, eyes gentling. “We have to trust him. Just rest now; you really have overdone it badly. You may not remember, but Tweedle got you with a Nullabist knife.”
“Whu-when?”
“In the cathedral, just before the baron stopped time in Mechanicsburg. That’s the only reason Gil managed to save you.”
Tarvek didn’t remember that, from either timeline. “Oh.”
“It’s okay.” She kissed his forehead. “We’re going to make it okay.”
He closed his eyes again, wanting to believe it was true. And then he heard the shot.
Tarvek nearly fell off his stool as he jerked awake, his chest aching where he’d been slumped against the lab desk. He looked around wildly, disoriented, until he woke up enough to remember that he was in Castle Heterodyne. The bang he’d heard was apparently the wrench that had fallen from his hand onto the floor, hitting the trilobite ankle monitor on his boot on the way down. And evidently, he’d fallen asleep reading Van Rijn’s notes on the Muses.
“You all right?” Violetta asked.
“Yes, I think so.” Tarvek took a deep breath and blew it out again. “What a terrible dream.”
He heard a rustle from the bench behind him and turned just as Tinka got up to put a hand on his shoulder. “You should rest, High-ness,” she said, barely a hitch in her voice now. “Or else you will... need maintenance soon.”
“Not sure I can sleep again after that,” he admitted. “Not for a while, anyway.”
“Let’s go to the kitchen, then,” Violetta suggested. “Gen. Goomblast brought gingerbread earlier, and I made sure Wooster saved you a piece.”
“Sounds as good as anything. Thanks. We’ll be back later, Tinka.”
Tinka chimed a little, like laughter. “Until later, Highness.”
As Violetta led the way out of the lab, Tarvek rubbed at the phantom ache in his chest.
The blink of an eye, Gil’s voice echoed in his mind. The turn of a head.
And he wondered.
Epilogue
Out of the Depths
By the time final repairs outside Castle Heterodyne were complete and Gil and Agatha had had far too much fun recharging its energy supply by playing with the lightning stick on the roof in the rain, someone had started a rumor that Klaus was in the hospital, not at the hospital (where Sun had granted him a temporary office not far from Punch and Judy’s lab). Thus, the end of the week found Mechanicsburg besieged, which the attackers-most of the “duckiest qvacks” in Europa, as Gkika said-thought was opportune because the empire’s forces were busy following up on Tarvek’s information about Lucrezia’s loyalists among the Knights of Jove. The castle thoroughly enjoyed proving the lunatics wrong.
Von Blitzengaard did show up in the middle of the mess, undaunted by everything the castle was throwing at the other besiegers. Agatha told the castle to let Gil take care of it. And Gil did so-with extreme prejudice. Klaus had never been so proud of his son, or so amused by the twist of a battle: the man from the Lightning Court, claiming the Lightning Throne, being killed by lightning called down by a Heterodyne.
Klaus restricted Tarvek’s involvement to strategy and analysis, and apart from a couple of shouting matches with Gil, Tarvek behaved himself and actually proved quite helpful. Young Lars, meanwhile, volunteered to help guard the portal room, since the roads were unsafe for the circus. He acquitted himself admirably by keeping calm and vigilant while some enemy, presumably the Geisterdamen, did attempt to invade that way; but the shield Agatha and Gil had designed held firm, and before Klaus could offer Lars a commission, he fell apart with a major panic attack and had to be calmed down with a pie to the face. Klaus decided neither to ask questions nor to prevent the circus from leaving with all its colorful characters intact.
Well, all but one. Tinka had convinced Moxana to stay, since Tarvek was there and Otilia would soon join them. Master Payne had allowed it only because he believed Moxana needed Tinka more than she needed the circus and because he trusted her to Agatha’s care.
Oddly enough, Klaus felt the same about Tarvek. On the one hand, while he knew the young prince to be dangerous, he also knew that Tarvek had lost everything and would more than likely be too absorbed in his work with the Muses to get up to much else in the near term. On the other hand, all Mechanicsburg was giddy with the boisterous love of its new mistress and master, and somehow Klaus could think of no more fitting punishment for Tarvek than having to witness that love firsthand and know it could never have been his. (Klaus should have seen that himself, the first time he saw Gil and Agatha standing together in Beetle’s lab. Even the castle hadn’t seriously tried to convince Agatha to attempt polyandry; it did make the suggestion, but Klaus thought the phrasing sounded more like a formality, to satisfy its own internal illogic that she would be bearing an heir.)
So when the siege was broken and the circus was underway at last, Klaus met with the children in the castle and announced his decision: “A year’s probation, Lady Heterodyne, at the end of which Mechanicsburg shall be free to leave the empire provided I am satisfied with your governance. And for Prince Tarvek, a year’s house arrest in Castle Heterodyne, at the end of which... we may consider negotiations for your installation as the Storm King.”
“We’ll need that in writing, Herr Baron,” Gil said on behalf of both of them, partly because Tarvek was, for once, stunned speechless.
Klaus knew Gil was speaking to him formally as Lord Heterodyne, but not hearing the sentence end in Father still stung. He hadn’t lost his son, not completely, but there was a distance between them now that he hadn’t recognized until the Doom Bell had rung that second time. When had he stopped thinking of Gil as the downy-headed infant he’d stolen away from Skifander and started regarding him only as the spark vassal who would one day inherit his empire?
Too long ago. Far too long ago. Long enough ago that his precious boy had jumped at the chance to become a Heterodyne instead. And now here was his daughter, as well, whom he hardly knew and who’d already lost her heart to a figure he’d only seen out the corner of his eye in the castle half a lifetime ago, when Bill and Barry had still been sure they could keep the peace without their ancestral army and Lucrezia hadn’t yet wormed her way into their lives. As kolee and sister-in-law to the Heterodyne, Zeetha had become half a Heterodyne herself. And soon-heaven alone knew how soon-he’d have grandchildren here.
Wulfenbach might be gone, but Mechanicsburg had been his second home once. He needed to make it his home again, quickly... before it was too late.
He raised his chin to keep his composure. “I’ll have Boris draw up terms before I return to speak to Punch and Judy next week. But I expect Prince Tarvek to remain in your custody in the meantime.”
Agatha glanced at Tarvek before asking, “Do you have any objection to his working on the Muses during his confinement, Herr Baron?”
“None at all. In fact, I may begin negotiations to find the rest for him to work on. Idle hands, you know, especially spark hands....”
Tarvek cleared his throat. “I hardly dare impose on your generosity further, Herr Baron, but might I ask one other concession?”
“You may ask,” Klaus replied dryly, “but the answer may be no.”
“There is a Smoke Knight here in town, my cousin Violetta. She’s currently assigned to assist Bürgermeister Zuken. Might I have her as my servant during my confinement? She would be an added safeguard against assassins, and that would keep her in the castle and thus as much in Lady Heterodyne’s custody as I shall be.”
Klaus raised an eyebrow. “What guarantee do I have that you won’t use her aid to escape?”
“And leave the Muses?!” Tarvek answered before he could think about it.
Gil ran a hand over his face, but Klaus still caught the corners of his mouth twitching with suppressed laughter.
“We could make a monitor,” Agatha conjectured, “controlled by the castle-not one that would kill you if you tried to escape, but one that summoned the Jägers and then tied your shoes together or something.”
“That might not stop Violetta,” Tarvek deadpanned. “Something that summoned Tryggvassen might.”
Gil gave up and laughed out loud.
“In all seriousness, though,” Tarvek continued, “I don’t want to escape. And not just because of the Muses. That in itself is a reason, certainly. But you know what my family’s like, Herr Baron. I’m far safer here than I’d be anywhere else in Europa.”
And the same would apply to his cousin, Klaus realized, as long as she was tied to the castle by her service to him. “Very well, I’ll allow it. And I suppose you ought also to be giving some thought to a bride, since Lady Heterodyne is unavailable.”
“Colette Voltaire,” Tarvek said at once. “We were never particularly close during my time in Paris, but it would be a useful match, and... well, I don’t think she hates me.”
“At least you’re a royal,” Gil quipped. “Half the undergrad sparks in Paris are always sighing after her and getting themselves in worse scrapes than we ever did as a result. That she hates. I think she took up with Wooster and me out of self-defense.”
“Took up with in what sense?” Tarvek asked before Klaus could. The Master of Paris had sent Klaus regular reports of what Gil had been up to, but most of them were dry fact, and he now suspected they hadn’t come close to the truth.
“As companions in adventure,” Wooster replied, bringing in a tea tray. “Everyone thought Master Gil was a rake and I was too poor even to consider courting the Master’s daughter, so there was no question of romance. But of course, we were working for her father at the time anyway. Speaking of Paris, Master Gil, the Kapellmeister wonders whether you’ve any more dance numbers the orchestra can prepare for the midsummer ball.”
“Ooh,” said Gil, considering, and took a biscuit as Wooster poured the tea. “No, I think I sent all the ones from Paris, and I haven’t had much chance for composing lately. Find out how many more he needs and when, though, and I’ll see what I can write. I certainly don’t lack for inspiration now,” he added, grinning wickedly at Agatha.
Agatha blushed and giggled. Tarvek rolled his eyes. And Klaus realized he’d never heard his son’s compositions.
“Midsummer ball,” he said mildly, accepting the teacup Wooster handed him. “I don’t suppose you’ve finalized the guest list yet?”
“Well, no,” Agatha admitted, “but I wasn’t planning to snub my own father-in-law.”
Klaus accepted the implicit rebuke with a smile, because it had sounded so much like Bill, and drank his tea.
A month later, as promised, Othar Tryggvassen, Gentleman Adventurer, caught up with Master Payne’s Circus of Adventure in a tiny town near the Black Sea. Or rather, he caught up with the circus’ advance man, Lars, who was sitting outside a tavern clutching his head.
“Here, now,” Othar boomed and clapped Lars on the shoulder, startling him. “You’re in too dark a mood for this fine summer day, my young friend.”
“Oh, it’s you, Herr Tryggvassen,” Lars sighed. “Sorry. What are you doing here?”
“Why, checking up on your Madame Olga.” Othar stopped when a wounded look crossed Lars’ face. “What is it?”
“You-oh. You mean Agatha.” Lars sighed again, more heavily. “Guess you haven’t been reading the newspapers.”
“Well... no, I’ve been... rather busy.” Othar had just escaped from prison in Bucharest, in fact, but the less said about that, the better. He sat down beside Lars. “What’s happened?”
“She’s... she’s in Mechanicsburg. Married. To the baron’s son.” Lars took a deep breath while Othar tried to fathom why a nice girl like Agatha would marry a wretch like Gilgamesh Wulfenbach. “But that’s not the problem. I mean, it’s part of the problem, but... there’s a girl here. Her father says... says I got her with child last time we were here. I barely remember her-that was almost two years ago. And I don’t... I don’t know what to do,” he moaned, clutching his head again. “I don’t want to leave Master Payne, but the show hasn’t been the same without Agatha. And yet... settling down, taking a job, having a family... or else... or else take them on the road with me, risk them in the Wastelands....”
“What would Bill Heterodyne do?”
Lars laughed bitterly. “Marry his worst enemy and get himself killed for it, apparently.”
Othar put his hand on the lad’s shoulder, more gently this time. “Well, then, what would Agatha want you to do?”
Lars took another deep breath and ran his hands down his face. “The right thing. Make an honest woman of her, and take care of my child.”
“There you are, then. Whether you settle here or stay with the circus, you know what the first step is. And there are other children with the circus, aren’t there?”
“Yeah, there’s one.” Lars suddenly huffed, and the corners of his mouth turned up a little. “And more coming. We may be switching the repertoire over the fall and winter-Pix thinks she’s pregnant. She and Abner got married two towns ago.”
A baby’s fussing suddenly interrupted the conversation, and both men looked up to see a dark-haired, pale-skinned girl coming toward them hesitantly with a child in her arms. “Lars?” she asked, grey eyes wide with fear and hope mingled.
Lars sat up straight, recognition in his eyes. “Yes.”
“I... I don’t mean to interrupt....”
“You’re not. This is Othar Tryggvassen. And... I... I’m sorry. I don’t remember your name.”
“Agata. Agata Vadimovna Glena.”
Lars couldn’t quite stifle a gasp, and Othar understood why. Glena was Ukranian for clay.
“Is something wrong?” The girl’s Romanian was hesitant, and she probably didn’t speak German, but she’d learn in due time if Lars did take her with him.
Lars shook his head and stood. “No, no, it’s just... I recently lost someone named Agatha Clay. It’s quite a coincidence.”
“Oh, yes. I... am sorry for your loss.”
“And I’m sorry I left you in trouble. May I?”
She nodded and handed him the baby. “His name is Maksym.”
He smiled, and the child quieted in his arms. “I have a friend named Maxim, in Mechanicsburg; he works for the Lady Heterodyne. It’s a good name.”
“Mechanicsburg. That is far from here.”
“Yes, it is.” He paused to marvel at his son, then looked at her again. “Agata... how bad is it here?”
“Very bad,” she confessed quietly. “My father drinks.”
“Come away with me, then. For the summer, at least; now’s a good time to travel. You can get a taste of life on the road, and if you don’t like it, we can find a new place to settle, somewhere nobody knows us.”
She gasped, and the fear in her eyes gave way to hope. “You... you mean it? You will take us?”
“Of course. What kind of hero would I be if I didn’t rescue a damsel in distress?”
She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him, and Othar tactfully ducked into the tavern. He’d need to head to Mechanicsburg soon, he supposed, since he had promised to check on Agatha and see how she was faring with the normal life she wanted, and the fact that she’d married Wulfenbach was rather worrying. But inspiring others was a hero’s job, too, and at least with Lars, it seemed she’d succeeded beyond Othar’s wildest dreams for her.
Tarvek felt the scars on his face begin to fade the moment he pushed Othar through the time window into the past, putting him on the road to preventing the disasters of Lucrezia’s triumph. He closed his eyes and hoped against hope that the timeline shift caused by Othar’s refusal to retire would be enough, that he’d saved everyone whose life had been in his hands before when he hadn’t kept Agatha out of Father’s clutches.
But no... the change tore at him, restoring his face but gouging into his chest with an ache that burned like poison. What had gone wrong?
“Tarvek!” Gil and Agatha cried at the same time, and then they were next to him, pulling him away from the machinery, out of the room, and onto a bed.
He opened his eyes and almost wept at the sight of them, here and alive, kneeling on either side of him. But it was all wrong-Gil’s face was haggard, his eyes shadowed, and he was wearing the breastplate of a Geisterdame. And there was something hard in Agatha’s eyes, holding off something else behind them, and she wore a trilobite brooch with wings at her collar. Then Tarvek looked closer and saw that it wasn’t a brooch at all... it was welded to some kind of golden choker.
“You idiot,” Gil snarled, but there were tears building. “You’re still on bed rest. The damage from that stuff von Blitzengaard stuck you with-oh, red fire, why wouldn’t you stay behind on Castle Wulfenbach?”
“Gil,” Agatha chided, sounding close to tears herself. “You know it isn’t safe anymore, not with... not with the Queen of the Dawn....”
Tarvek’s head was spinning with two sets of memories, trying to make sense of what had happened and what hadn’t. “No,” he wheezed. “No, I... I almost had it....”
“You are not trying again,” Gil ordered. “It’s not worth your life.”
“It’s... all my fault; I... didn’t change enough, Agatha, I... I’m sorry....”
“Shh,” Agatha interrupted. “Just tell us. Maybe we can make it work this time. What did you change?”
“I... sent Othar back so... so he wouldn’t retire....” Tarvek’s voice didn’t sound like it hadn’t been used in over thirty years, and he was starting to forget that other timeline. Had he really been alone so very long?
Gil shook his head. “Delirious.”
“You’re a fine one to talk,” Agatha shot back. “Othar didn’t retire, so apparently that worked; he’s just got residual memories of the previous timeline.”
“But if all that did was get us here....”
“Something has to change before I get to Sturmhalten. If Lucrezia never returns, none of this will happen.”
“Trouble is, Father would already be on the lookout for time windows if we change things after we meet, but... I... Agatha, I can’t change things any earlier than that. Never knowing you... I can’t.”
“Might not have to,” Tarvek gasped. “Keep it small.”
“Just big enough to throw something through,” said someone-von Zinzer (and who-where had he come from?). “Like a... a note or....”
Gil straightened, eyes blazing. “No, not a note. A note won’t be believed. We need to change things in such a way that no one even knows they’re changing. But yes, a small window, open for a short time-the blink of an eye, the... the turn of a head....” He jerked to his feet and ran out, pulling von Zinzer after him.
Tarvek frowned at Agatha in confusion. “What... what....”
“Shh,” she said again, eyes gentling. “We have to trust him. Just rest now; you really have overdone it badly. You may not remember, but Tweedle got you with a Nullabist knife.”
“Whu-when?”
“In the cathedral, just before the baron stopped time in Mechanicsburg. That’s the only reason Gil managed to save you.”
Tarvek didn’t remember that, from either timeline. “Oh.”
“It’s okay.” She kissed his forehead. “We’re going to make it okay.”
He closed his eyes again, wanting to believe it was true. And then he heard the shot.
Tarvek nearly fell off his stool as he jerked awake, his chest aching where he’d been slumped against the lab desk. He looked around wildly, disoriented, until he woke up enough to remember that he was in Castle Heterodyne. The bang he’d heard was apparently the wrench that had fallen from his hand onto the floor, hitting the trilobite ankle monitor on his boot on the way down. And evidently, he’d fallen asleep reading Van Rijn’s notes on the Muses.
“You all right?” Violetta asked.
“Yes, I think so.” Tarvek took a deep breath and blew it out again. “What a terrible dream.”
He heard a rustle from the bench behind him and turned just as Tinka got up to put a hand on his shoulder. “You should rest, High-ness,” she said, barely a hitch in her voice now. “Or else you will... need maintenance soon.”
“Not sure I can sleep again after that,” he admitted. “Not for a while, anyway.”
“Let’s go to the kitchen, then,” Violetta suggested. “Gen. Goomblast brought gingerbread earlier, and I made sure Wooster saved you a piece.”
“Sounds as good as anything. Thanks. We’ll be back later, Tinka.”
Tinka chimed a little, like laughter. “Until later, Highness.”
As Violetta led the way out of the lab, Tarvek rubbed at the phantom ache in his chest.
The blink of an eye, Gil’s voice echoed in his mind. The turn of a head.
And he wondered.