The figure moved, and opened its mouth. “I am Agatha Heterodyne.” The boom of sound blew out most of the remaining windows within the castle, and caused the stonework itself to vibrate.
“Daughter of Bill Heterodyne and Lucrezia Mongfish.” There was a small hiss of static, and the figure jumped before continuing. “I have discovered that Baron Wulfenbach was—is The Other. Tell Everyone. I can’ fight h—” More static, which increased as the message progressed. “—off much longer.”
Static again. “—Servants have captured me. Done something to me.” Zzzt. “—The castle at Sturmhalten. Prince Tarvek is helping me. Someone needs to stop—Hzzzkpop—Baron Wulfenbach. Bzrt—is taking over. Kzzrrt—Please. I need help.”
The figure looked out, pleadingly, and then vibrated slightly, and the message began to repeat. “I am Agatha Heterodyne.”
And everyone saw it.
On the town’s caravan grounds, the circus members stared upwards in amazement.
“Sweet lightning,” Abner whispered.
“Unbelievable,” Payne breathed.
Wooster rubbed his head.
“Is going be devil tricky to pull off on stage,” Otto muttered.
“What in the world is she wearing?” The Countess declared, scandalized.
The others stared at her. “Oh don’t look at me like that,” she said crossly, “You were all thinking it.”
Payne clapped his hands and broke the spell. “Get everyone moving,” he roared. “We’re leaving! Now!”
Wooster watched the circus members scatter. “Aren’t you being guarded and detained by the Prince’s troops?” he asked.
“Nothing we can’t handle,” the Countess said as she reached into the nearest wagon and pulled out a large cast-iron fry pan.
“That’s interesting.”
“Oh yes.” Marie turned and regarded the British agent closely. “And now, I want you to convince me you’re not out to hurt Agatha.”
Ardsley regarded her with a supercilious smile. “...Or you hit me with a frying pan?”
On a rooftop, the group of people who had ostensibly snuck into Sturmhalten to rescue Agatha, stared up at her image.
“She’s a Heterodyne?” Lars asked in astonishment. Everyone else nodded.
“Glad you could join us, Lars,” Krosp remarked.
Lars looked at them in bewilderment. “You all knew this?”
“The grown-ups knew,” said Krosp.
“I just figured it out,” Zeetha said defensively.
Lars stared upwards. “We have to help her!”
“Isn’t that what we’re already doing?” asked Kalikoff.
“Is there anything else I should know?” Lars demanded.
Maxim looked down. “I haff never luffed,” he whispered.
Everyone looked at him in silence.
Krosp cleared his throat. “We really should get off of this roof.”
As they headed for the door, Ognian glanced at the spot where the Professor had been, and gleefully nudged Dimo. “Hy em goink to be a great-great-great grandpapa,” he chuckled.
Dimo rolled his eyes. He knit decorative socks, but he didn’t go around bragging about it.
Somewhere below them, Tarvek was again picking himself up off the ground. The initial soundwaves were so powerful that they had knocked them all down. He stared up at the endlessly repeating apparition in horror. “That wasn’t supposed to go off now!”
“You’re responsible for that?” Vrin screamed next to his ear.
Tarvek looked at her. “What?”
Vrin stared back at him. “What?”
“I can’t hear you,” Tarvek yelled back. “This damned music is too—” He did a double-take. The music? He whipped around, and indeed, there was Agatha, fleeing from the two of them as fast as she could.
Tarvek grabbed Vrin’s shoulder and dragged her along. “The music!” He yelled. “It’s freed her from the Lady’s control!” Vrin nodded in understanding and raced along beside him.
Agatha frantically looked for an exit. She realized, however, that as this was supposed to be a hidden courtyard, it probably didn’t have any easily identifiable entrances. She lunged around a likely looking corner and found herself in a dead end, used to store various shovels and brooms.
Tarvek appeared around the corner and stopped. He held out a placating hand. “Agatha! You’ve got to trust me!”
Agatha found herself pressed back against the cool stone of the wall. Her fingers frantically felt along the wall behind her, futilely looking for some sort of mechanism. “Don’t be insulting. You’re using me as much as... as she is!”
Tarvek looked at her steadily as he inched closer. He dropped his voice. “Can’t you see I’m trying to get us both out of here alive?”
Vrin stepped out from around the corner and laughed. “I’m afraid that’s not going to happen. Even if the copy within the clank Anevka is destroyed, my sisters have safely removed the Summoning Engine. Thus, I received permission to kill you both, if it became necessary.” She jauntily flipped her sword into the air where it spun several times before she effortlessly caught it. “I was so worried it wouldn’t become necessary.”
Her blade lazily flicked out. Tarvek had already been moving to grab a broom, and thus didn’t dodge in time to prevent the Geister’s blade from slicing across his chest.
He slammed backwards against the wall. A line of bright red welled up under his hand and began to ooze down his chest. “That really hurts,” he gasped.
Vrin ignored him and facing Agatha, she smiled, and extended a friendly hand. “Now, girl—I don’t have to kill you. You can still be useful. Come with me and I will kill this pig.” Her sword flicked out, easily avoiding the broom handle Tarvek held defensively, and carving a slice across Tarvek’s arm. “—Or spare him, if that’s what you wish.”
The new wound seemed to focus Tarvek’s shocked senses. He stood straighter, and the broom, while still pathetic, was held with more authority. “No!” Tarvek interjected. “Agatha, just run!” He leapt towards Vrin. “You don’t want to be trapped with them if I’m not there!”
With a satisfied smirk, Vrin batted away the broom handle, knocking it from Tarvek’s hands. “Wonderful! I do get to kill you!”
She stabbed Tarvek in the arm. Holding him fast. Tarvek turned to Agatha. “Go! I tried to get you out! Don’t—AAGH!” He screamed as Vrin twisted her sword free.
“Oh I do wish I had the time to do this slowly.” The Geisterdamen spun about and slammed Tarvek’s jaw with her foot, sending the wounded man crashing against a wall. He slid to the ground. “But I’m in a bit of a hurry.”
Tarvek made a supreme effort, and managed to roll over onto his back. Vrin placed her sword at his throat. “But before you die, I want you to admit that your machinations have failed. You thought you could betray my Lady! Use her for your own petty ambitions! Admit your defeat.”
“Absolutely,” Tarvek mumbled. “You’re right. I failed, okay?”
Vrin glared at him. “You take all the honor out of everything!” she screamed as she raised her blade—
“VRIN, STOP!” Agatha yelled.
Vrin froze, and staggered back. “Your voice! You’re not the Lady! I won’t—”
The broom handle hit her on the forehead with such force that it drove the Geisterdamen to her knees.
“No. I’m not your Lady,” Agatha agreed, “But it’s hard to resist my voice, isn’t it? NOW PUT DOWN YOUR SWORD!”