Agatha H and the Voice of the Castle

Zeetha grinned. “Then give me a chair!”

The man smiled slightly and handed her one. “Aye, aye.”

Zeetha took the chair, and sweeping it back and forth, began clearing a path towards the kitchen doors. The man’s eyes followed her and he smiled. Then a slight frown crossed his features and he glanced longingly towards his beer. As he pondered, another Jäger flew through the air and smashed into his table, reducing the tankard to dripping shards.

With a philosophical shrug, the man put his hands in his pockets and slouched off after Zeetha, who was slowly progressing through the room. If Zeetha had watched him she would have been struck by how the man never was where you thought he was. Fists, bottles, tables, and casks flew towards him but somehow he never was there when they arrived.

When he caught up to her, he cleared his throat. “So, uh, what brings you in here?”

Zeetha’s chair disintegrated as she broke it over a stout Jäger wearing a fancy pickelhaube. “Oh, you know, I came with some guys.”

“You need to find them?”

“Yeah, I’m supposed to make sure one of them doesn’t get into trouble.”

The airshipman glanced about at the seething chaos and seemed to accept this statement at face value. He picked up a new chair. A barrel sailed past his head. “Smart guy?” he asked as he handed it to Zeetha.

Zeetha considered this. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Found ’em. Is he the one with the cat on his head?”

“Probably.” She paused. “Wait—how did you know they’re smart?”

“They’re not fighting a bar full of Jägers.”

“Ha!” Zeetha laughed. “Good one!” Then both of them realized what he had said. “Wait a minute, what are you implying?”

The airshipman turned, and the look in Zeetha’s eyes caused him to break out in a cold sweat. A long dormant survival instinct awoke within him. He smiled disingenuously. “Miss, you look so extraordinarily dangerous that I wouldn’t think of implying anything I couldn’t directly observe.”

To her astonishment, Zeetha found herself blushing. “Do I really look dangerous?”

“Absolutely. Now let’s get you back to your friends.”

Zeetha nodded and then analyzed the entire exchange. “HEY!”

But the airshipman was wasting no time. Zeetha frowned. He wasn’t pushing or shoving, and, in fact, never seemed to actually hit anyone, but they were now moving at a respectable clip and Jägers melted away as he approached.

From near a doorway, Van detected a different pattern in the melee, and pointed. “Here she comes.”

Gil recognized the hallway as the one he’d entered by. He looked back towards the room he’d awoke in. “Wait, I need—”

From that very room, Dimo, Ognian, and Maxim emerged. “Here iz hyu zappy stick,” Dimo sang out.

Ognian carried a small sack. “Here iz de sctuff hyu had in hyu pockets!”

Maxim presented the pièce de résistance. “Und hyu hat!”

Gil stared at the hat with loathing. “I do not need—”

Krosp interrupted him in a low voice. “The hat. The special hat. The hat the Jägers made to show you how impressed they are with you. The Jägers who saved your life and are devoted to Agatha. The girl you want to impress. The girl who doesn’t trust you, but does trust the Jägers. That hat?”

Gil instantly took all the loathing that he had reserved for the hat, doubled it, and now directed it at the cat, who, disappointingly, did not burst into flames but simpered at him. “Helping,” he purred.

“…I’ll take the hat,” Gil said leadenly.

Disconcertingly, every Jäger within earshot paused in their fighting and cheered. “YAY!”

Van turned to Krosp. “An excellent call, Krosp. That was very diplomatic.”

Krosp grinned maliciously. “It makes him look like an idiot.”

Thanks to the lull in the action, Zeetha and her escort were able to push through the last few meters relatively easily.

It was obvious that the airshipman was uncomfortable. “Here are your friends. I’m off.”

For some reason, this seemed to make Zeetha even more annoyed. “So go already.”

“You! Wulfenbach airman!” Gil’s stern bark caught them both by surprise. “You’re with me.” Before the airman could say anything, he found the improbable hat thrust into his hands. “Carry this.”

The airman’s eyes narrowed. “Who…”

Gil grinned. “Oh, I’m sorry, I’m Gilgamesh Wulfenbach.”

For the first time, the airman’s mask of imperturbability cracked. He turned to the others. “You’re…he’s just sending me out for a crate of balloon juice. Right?”

“I’m afraid not,” Van said.

Maxim pointed proudly. “Iz on hiz hat!”

The airman dragged his eyes downward and examined the legend on the front of the hat. When he looked up, he appeared to have aged several years. However, he snapped to a loose approximation of “attention” and gave a salute. “Airman Third Class Axel Higgs reporting for duty, sir.”

“Welcome aboard, Mr. Higgs.” Gil paused. “Higgs…Oh! You’re the one who rescued my father!”

Higgs looked surprised. “Um…could be,” he admitted warily.

Gil took his hand and shook it. “I want to thank you. There’s a promotion somewhere with your name on it.” Higgs looked uncomfortable. “Oh, well…”