Agatha H and the Voice of the Castle

Gil realized that Agatha was now bent backwards, trapped against the workbench while he leaned over her, ranting. Before he could let her up, a voice rang out behind him: “Gilgamesh Holzfäller! It is you!”

Gil turned where he was, still pinning Agatha to the bench. And indeed, there was Tarvek Sturmvoraus himself, standing in the doorway. He was wild-eyed, swaying, and a vivid turquoise all over his mostly naked body. “I knew I’d heard your degenerate bleating! You get away from her, you swine!” He lunged forward and would have fallen to the ground if von Zinzer and Violetta hadn’t darted forward and caught him. Gil and Agatha stepped away from each other and stared.

“Sorry,” von Zinzer grunted. “Couldn’t stop him!”

Violetta nodded. “We couldn’t find a hammer!”

Tarvek was glaring at him. “I can’t believe you! Every time I see you, you’re…you’re en déshabillé and up to the same tricks! Have you no shame?” He shook von Zinzer and Violetta off and staggered forward, waving a trembling fist at Gil. “You stay away from Agatha! She…she is a nice girl! Not part of your harem of nightclub tarts and pirate doxies!”

Gil wasn’t really listening. Tarvek was blue. That wasn’t right…

“Agatha,” Tarvek was saying, earnestly waving a finger under her nose, “If this cad insults you with his lewd advances again, just give him a good smack with one of these lovely fish and I will—I will—” his voice weakened as he collapsed face-first to the ground.

“Tarvek!” Agatha’s voice was frightened. She fell to her knees at his side. Gil knelt beside her and laid a hand on the back of Tarvek’s neck. He was out cold. “This is not good,” Gil muttered.

Agatha was frantic. “You said it sounded worse than it was!”

“I was wrong!” He grabbed Tarvek under one arm. “Help me get him up off the floor! Hurry!”

Agatha helped him move Tarvek onto a weathered table that looked as if it had once been used for patients or—considering their location—victims. “This isn’t Chromatic Death! What did this idiot get himself into?”

Agatha bit her lip. “Then, what is it? You sounded so sure.”

Gil stepped back. “This is Hogfarb’s Resplendent Immolation. It’s similar, but a lot more rare.”

Tarvek was rambling. “I’m…I’m sorry, Agatha. Um—I’ll thrash him later, ‘kay? …don’ feel so good…”

Agatha looked worried. “Resplendent Immolation…what on Earth is that?”

Violetta was looking over his shoulder. “Um—this is another ‘sounds worse than it is,’ right?” She didn’t sound very hopeful.

“Ah, no,” Gil said distractedly. He walked to the workbench and started to clear a space. “The name’s a bit of an understatement, actually.”

Agatha followed him. “He’s going to burst into flames?”

Gil swept piles of long-unused debris off the bench. “Well, probably. There’s a small chance he’ll just melt.”

Agatha made a choked, miserable noise deep in her throat.

Gil winced. “Of course, there’s always a chance that he’ll be perfectly fine,” he added.

Agatha looked at him hopefully. “Really?”

Gil nodded confidently. “Oh, yes. If we assume that this is an infinite universe, then theoretically, anything, no matter how unlikely, has to happen somewhere.”

Agatha looked sick. There were tears in her eyes. Gil was puzzled… that always comforted him…

“Castle, could he have contracted this here?” Agatha asked.

The Castle’s voice echoed around them. “Hmm…possible. There is Vipsania Heterodyne’s Cabinet of Contagion, and, of course, the Ghostmaker Mice…”

“Well,” Agatha said, “knowing my ancestors, there must be a poison pharmacology around here somewhere.” She turned to Gil, “I assume most poisoners have antidotes to hand.”

“Your ancestors weren’t terribly concerned about antidotes…” the Castle said, “but you may certainly search for one, if you think you have time…”

“See?” Agatha pounded the table with both hands and shouted at Gil. “This place—this is why I want you out of here!”

Gil wasn’t budging. “No way. Anyway, there won’t be an antidote, it’s more of an illness than a poison. But he didn’t get it by mistake, not even in here. Violetta is right. Someone got him with this on purpose.”

“Sir?” Von Zinzer and Violetta stood in the doorway, carrying a canvas sheet full of jumbled bottles and tools. “Found the stuff you wanted, except the hammer.”

Gil glanced at Tarvek. “Pity.” He turned back. “See if you can find some Hypatia’s Clove. The red kind.”

Von Zinzer nodded and ran back out. Agatha, Gil, and Violetta began setting the bottles out on the bench. Von Zinzer appeared again, a glass canister held in his hands. “Bad news, sir,” he said simply. “There was a jar marked ‘Hypatia’s Clove’,” he held it up, “but the stuff inside is yellow.” He glanced at it. “Nearly white, really.”

Gil pinched the bridge of his nose. “Well, of course. Everything here is nearly twenty years old. Most of it won’t be any use at all!” He groaned. “This isn’t good.”