Agatha H and the Voice of the Castle

Gil started to follow her and ran the toe of his boot into the remains of the little clank. As the metal casing clanged across the floor, he looked around him. Suddenly, he had a realization. “Hey! This isn’t Paris!”

Agatha blew out a sigh of relief and kept walking.

“This is Castle Heterodyne!” Gil tried to catch up to Agatha, but Zola took his arm and lightly squeezed his shoulder. “OW!” Another memory surfaced. “And I got shot!”

“Yes,” Zola said. “But don’t worry, I’m taking care of you.”

Gil stared at her, glanced at Agatha as she hastened away, and then turned back to Zola. He felt he should make things clear right away. “Listen, about Agatha, you should know—”

Zola waved a hand. “Oh, her. She’s taken us prisoner, you know.” Zola dropped her voice. “She’s been acting all crazy and violent and she talked mean to me.”

Gil looked at her. “Well, you did try to kill her,” he reminded her. Zola rolled her eyes and snuggled in closer. A thought hit him. “But—she’s really mad, huh? Hmmm…” Agatha had a lot of reasons to be angry with him.

The group continued on their way. Zola kept her arm locked with Gil’s, and Tiktoffen stopped frequently to check his maps and instruments.

Agatha said nothing, staring fixedly ahead. Every so often, Agatha stole a look at Gil and Zola out of the corner of her eye. She could tell that Gil wanted to talk to her but she was not going to have any kind of conversation with him with Zola clinging to him like a newlywed.

Agatha knew she wasn’t being completely fair to him. Back on Castle Wulfenbach, they had been friends, of a sort. They had worked together, fought slaver wasps together. He had believed in her. And, in the end, she had left him and lied to him. What was she going to say?

Things might have continued this way but Professor Tiktoffen cleared his throat and engaged Zola in consultation about the types of traps that might await them ahead. Zola had reluctantly released Gil’s arm and the two of them now paced on ahead.

Gil glanced at Agatha’s profile and his breath caught. Here she was, less than a meter from him. Alive and whole and…if the firming of her jaw was any indication…extremely annoyed.

He had to speak to her. Had to find out if she cared for him at all. He didn’t have much hope—all she had done was run from him. She had let him think she was dead, and she had pretty obviously never meant to see him again. But Zeetha had been encouraging, and the green-haired girl was her friend…

By sheer force of will he opened his mouth. “So…” Gil coughed and tried again. “So, Aga—” Was he being too familiar? She wasn’t his lab assistant anymore. Gil switched gears. “Miss—um—” No, you idiot! She isn’t Miss Clay anymore!

“Lady Heterodyne,” he said. She turned to look at him. Yes! This was working! And then the yawning chasm of conversation loomed bleakly before him. What to say? “I’m so glad you’re not dead?” Moronic! Of course you’re glad she isn’t dead! Who wouldn’t be glad about that? That’s patently obvious! Saying that would make you look like a fatuous simpleton! She’s smart! Say something smart! “So who’s this…sick…person?” Gil closed his eyes. People who pay attention in medical school call them “patients,” he reminded himself. Maybe she’ll—

“The patient?”

Gil died a thousand silent deaths while Agatha considered this.

“He’s a…friend.”

“A friend.”

Agatha sighed. “Well, as long as I keep an eye on him, anyway.”

“And…‘he’?” Gil couldn’t help himself. He tried to get a look at her face as she answered, but she kept walking just ahead of him, avoiding his gaze.

“Yes. He’s sick and injured, and you’re a much better doctor than I am.”

Gil felt gratified that she thought so. He also felt Zola clamping once again onto his arm. He almost screamed in frustration. This was the last thing he wanted. But he was torn. Zola was obviously in way over her head. If he pushed her away, she might break down altogether and that would just delay things more. He couldn’t run the risk. Surely Agatha would understand.

Agatha glanced back at them and her eyes hardened. “It was his idea,” she said. “I wanted the Castle to throw the both of you out.”

Gil tried to step forward but Agatha was striding ahead and Zola was too much of an anchor. He ground his teeth. “Well excuse me! I can help you, you know,” he snapped.

Agatha was unimpressed. “Yes, that’s what he said, too.”

Gil narrowed his eyes at this. “Well, I can’t wait to meet him.” And possibly kill him, kill him, kill him, he thought.