Agatha H and the Voice of the Castle

“But de regular tunnels vas too far,” Maxim said, “and he vas too injured!”

“Ve had no choice! But ve gafe our vord!”

“Now our honor is foreffer shattered!”

“Ve kin only redeem ourselves mit honorable death!”

“Yez! Svift, painful, honorable death!”

Ognian drew a wicked looking knife from inside his coat. Its blade glittered in the lantern light. “Hyu knife, brodder,” he intoned.

Maxim’s own knife appeared. A tear ran down his face. “Right here, brodder!”

Simultaneously, they reached up and placed their knives at each other’s throats. They closed their eyes—

Dimo cleared his throat. “Ve didn’t actually get caught, hyu eediots.”

The two Jägers stared at him owlishly for a moment and then with a relieved sigh, repocketed their blades.

“Scary,” Oggie muttered.

“Yeh,” Maxim agreed. “Dot vas a close vun.”

Gil and Zeetha exchanged glances.

Dimo strode over and clapped Gil on the shoulder. “Goot luck, Meester Gilgamesh! Ven hyu sees Miz Agatha, hyu takes care uf her until ve gets dere, hokay?”

Gil snorted. “If she’ll let me.”

Van, meanwhile, had been collecting the lanterns, extinguishing them, and storing them on a rack similar to the one in the wine cellar. He turned to the others now. “All right, folks, one last gauntlet and we’re out.”

Gil looked apprehensive. “What, more monsters?”

Van shook his head. “Tourists.” He opened the door and a pulsing wave of sound boomed outwards. It was a driving polka beat that vibrated the floorboards and rattled the tableware. Gil and his party found themselves in another bierstube, but this one was brightly lit and hung with garish Jäger trophies and pictures that inevitably portrayed the Jägers as buffoons and dimwitted clowns.

The place was packed with tourists, drinking and dancing, along with teams of saucy girls barely dressed as Jägers.

Van put his mouth next to Gil’s ear. “This is the Mamma Gkika’s you’ve heard about,” he yelled.

Krosp had clapped his paws over his ears. “No wonder nobody can hear the Jägers fighting down there.”

Gil nodded. “Let’s get out of here. I have an idea, but we’ll have to move quickly and quietly.”

As he spoke, a meaty hand grasped his collar and hauled him up onto the stage. It was a large, drunken patron, who waved Gil around in the air and bellowed; “Hey look! It’s Gilgamesh Wulfenbach! The guy who saved the town!”

Immediately the hall erupted into cheers. Vanamonde sagged against the wall. “So much for quietly.”

Krosp shrugged. “So we’re doomed. Cope.”

“No, really, we’re doomed,” Moloch moaned. “No one’s ever been in this part of the Castle.”

“The map says to go this way,” Agatha said confidently.

“But the traps aren’t marked.”

Agatha nodded. “Then that pink harridan won’t follow us.”

“WRONG.” A ghastly voice echoed through the cavernous room they had been traversing. Moloch whimpered and hugged the tools tighter. The voice of the Castle continued, “This is very interesting. They want to kill you so much that they are killing each other.” It sounded amused. Then its tone became aggrieved: “Why is that? Don’t they know that killing all of you is my job?”

Agatha took a deep breath. Another personality fragment. This one, at least, sounded…different. More complex. “They want to kill me because I am the rightful Heterodyne, and the girl leading them is a usurper.”

“Oh, really?” The Castle was obviously interested now.

“Yes, really. I spoke to you in the crypt. You told me to get to the library.”

There was a pause. When it spoke again, the voice was thoughtful. “The Crypt? I don’t remember any crypt, but the library is where you should go…”

“I know you have trouble with your memories. You don’t control as much territory as you know you should. It’s one of the reasons I’m here to repair you. The other girl is a false Heterodyne. She wants to shut you down and kill me. The people after me are her minions.”

“Ah. That I understand.” This was followed by a snap and a scream from behind Agatha. She whirled and found Moloch stuck in a trapdoor in the floor, saved only by having wedged himself with the pack he had been carrying.

“He’s with me!” Agatha said, as she helped haul him up.

“Ah,” the Castle admonished. “Then you should have said, ‘the people after us.’ If you are a Heterodyne, you must remember that words are important.”

Moloch yanked his feet free just as the opening in the floor resealed itself. “I hate this place,” he gasped.

The Castle chuckled. It then made several helpful suggestions regarding where they should go and thereafter kept up a stream of idle, if slightly disturbing, chatter as they navigated the hallways. Agatha took the time to look around a bit. The damage to this part of the castle seemed superficial, though parts of the floor were slightly off-kilter.

Windows were cracked, furniture was tipped to the side, and there was a thick coat of dust everywhere. Cobwebs hung thick, and rotted drapery and tapestries hung from the walls. The air was thick and silent.

“It’s obvious no one’s come this way since the explosions,” Agatha muttered.