Agatha H and the Voice of the Castle

“No!” Gil was emphatic. A part of his brain noted with relief that the fresh air seemed to be clearing the last of Theo’s concoction from his head. “We need a crowd. A big crowd. They’ve got to see us going in.” He rolled his eyes. “What’s driving me crazy is that I had a crowd, and I let them get away.”

Theo dramatically placed a hand to his forehead. “Ah, the fickleness of the mob. Their love, once gone, is gone forever. You are a has-been, my friend. Yesterday’s news.”

Sleipnir waited until Theo wound down. “We’ll just have to build a new crowd.”

Gil stopped dead on the stairs. “That would take weeks!”

Theo nodded, “And the graveyard is all the way across town.”

Sleipnir nodded. “Stand a little closer so I can slap the two of you at once.” With the ease of practice, the two stepped away from each other. “I mean,” she continued, “that we have to do something exciting to get people’s attention!”

Theo nodded. “Oh. Yeah, that would work, too.”

They reached the bottom of the stairs, and Gil turned towards the tourist district. “Let’s go.”

They soon found that there were lots of people on the streets already—many of them drinking.

Theo looked around. “Standing out in this is going to be tough,” he admitted.

Suddenly a familiar voice rang out. “There you are!”

Gil turned and saw Zeetha, a half-eaten honey-glazed “trilobiteon-a-stick” in her hand. Behind her stood Krosp and a bemused Airman Higgs, still cradling Gil’s hat. “We knew you’d wander out here eventually. Still planning on going into the Castle?”

Gil nodded. “Yesss. But first we need a good fight.”

Theo looked surprised, then nodded. “Oh. Yes, that would do it.”

Zeetha’s face went blank. Gil took a large step back and leveled a stern finger at her. “That’s right, you brazen hussy!” he roared. A few of the people in the surrounding crowd turned towards them. “I, Gilgamesh Wulfenbach, will enter Castle Heterodyne! And if you try to stop me, I will fight you in a suitably noisy and crowd-gathering manner! Let all who gather see that I—Gilgamesh Wulfenbach—will defend the Heterodyne girl with my life!”

Zeetha’s trilobite dripped honey onto her hand. “What?”

Gil opened his eyes wide and stared at her pointedly—willing her to play along. “No one will keep me from her side! She is my chosen bride and any who harm her will answer to me!” Gil stopped. “Whoa, did I really just say that?”

Theo nodded. “Yes.”

Sleipnir nodded.

Zeetha stared at him.

Gil waved his hands. “Okay, nobody heard that.”

“I heard it,” Krosp said.

Zeetha stared at Krosp.

Gil gave up. “O-ho! So your vile cat slanders my good name! Now we must fight!!”

The crowd held its breath. Zeetha opened her mouth wider than one would have thought possible and stuffed the rest of the trilobite inside. She then spat the clean stick at Gil’s feet and grinned. “You are such a dork. Fine. You want to get into the Castle?”

There was a shining blur and her swords were in her hands, glinting in the lights. The crowd moved back quickly and a clear space opened around the combatants. “I am going to kick your butt, hogtie you, and drag you to Agatha myself. She could probably use a good laugh right now.”

Gil held a hand up and Sleipnir tossed an odd-looking tube weapon into it. Zeetha’s eyes narrowed. Gil spoke to her, more quietly now. “I have a better idea. We’ll fight, I’ll win, and you’ll stay safely outside.”

The tube weapon began to whirr as it warmed up.

“Agatha will be mad at me if I let her friends get hurt. So come on! We’ve got to make it an entertaining fight!” His voice rose to a theatrical shout again and he looked comically alarmed. “Oooh. Swords! You’re gonna beat me up? I’m scared!”

He aimed up overhead and pulled a trigger. In a lightning-fast series of soft explosions, he emptied the weapon towards the sky. “Scared it’ll be over too soon, that is.”

Zeetha had leapt back from the flash of heat from the weapon’s muzzle. “Whoa! Hey! Watch where you’re pointing the death ray, Madboy!” she yelled. “What exactly is your idea of ‘safe’?”

Fireworks exploded overhead. Gil tossed the shooter away. “Ooh. The mean ol’ swordswoman is afraid of a little boom!” he mocked. “Don’t worry, I wasn’t trying to hit you. I just wanted people to know there was a show.”

Zeetha stared into the sky. “Whoo! Good job!” she sneered. “You found a target even you couldn’t miss!”

“Kind of like your big mouth!” Gil returned. He flipped over the next device that was handed to him and turned a crank, ejecting a stream of what appeared to be forks. He raised his voice. “Now—face the terror of my hand-cranked runcible gun!”

Zeetha was having fun. Her swords moved in a swirling pattern—and she smirked as Gil found himself dodging his own forks. “Ha! Pathetic! Better a big mouth than a big empty space where my brain should be! Nyeah!”