Von Pinn snarled in pain, spun to a halt and examined the wound. A tiny part of DuPree’s brain offered up the observation that Von Pinn seemed more annoyed about the damage to her outfit than the large cut into her flesh. “Aw, does that hurt?”
Von Pinn swiveled her head towards Bangladesh, and the captain felt her smile falter. “Pain does not bother me.” She slowly swayed forward and extended a hand toward Bangladesh. “I live with it.”
Bangladesh raised her cutlass. Von Pinn continued to reach forward. She jabbed towards the construct’s hand. With a sudden move, Von Pinn impaled her own hand upon the sword. DuPree was shocked and froze as Von Pinn drove her hand down the length of the sword until she could grasp the guard. “I use pain. Cultivate it.” Effortlessly she squeezed and the sword guard crumpled, trapping DuPree’s hand within. “Shape it.” Delicate bones snapped within DuPree’s hand and she screamed. A leather-clad claw slapped over her nose and mouth, cutting off her breathing. She found herself face to face with a toothily grinning Von Pinn, who drew her close. “Ah-ah-ah—” she whispered. “Time for a lesson. A final lesson.” She began to tighten the hand covering the struggling captain’s face, and suddenly became aware of the slim dagger that DuPree was desperately trying to slide past the belts and buckles of her outfit and between her ribs. She grinned, but then both women were distracted by a small object arcing through the air and landing at their feet. They just had time to recognize the C-Gas canister for what it was when it went off, belching forth a cloud of thick gas that caused the two combatants to fall over unconscious.
The gas cleared quickly, and a shape loomed in the corridor. It was a combat clank. Its eyes broken by Adam’s rivet attack. In its arms it carried Baron Wulfenbach. Leg bandaged, and wearing a small facemask. A lapful of similar canisters clunked whenever the big clank moved. Klaus looked down at the three women and sighed in exasperation. “I’ll deal with you idiots later.” He addressed the clank carrying him. “Continue forward.”
The machine continued down the corridor. Behind the Baron, he heard running footsteps and a Lackya appeared at his elbow. “Herr Baron!” he inquired. “Are you—”
Klaus interrupted him. “I am fine. Scout ahead and—” A thought struck him. “No—wait. Back there with Von Pinn and DuPree—There was someone else.”
The Lackya nodded. “Ah. The Princess Zulenna. I checked them all, Herr Baron, and I regret to say that the princess appears to be dead.”
Klaus pounded his fist on his leg. “Damnation!” he snarled. “You will take the princess to my medical lab and place her in the cold room.”
The Lackya looked distressed. “You—The Baron would revive her? But she is—was a Royal. The Fifty Families expressly forbid—”
Klaus cut him off furiously. “The Fifty Families haven’t got the authority or the power to forbid me from doing anything. Zulenna was under my protection, and I don’t give a damn about their ridiculous games of succession.”
“But Herr Baron—The princess will.”
“That is her privilege. But she is the one who will choose her fate.”
The Lackya opened his mouth, and Klaus roared, “GO! You’re wasting time!”
The Lackya bowed, but could not resist adding, “I go, Herr Baron, but while the Royals have little obvious power, that which they do have, they use with deadly finesse. Beware.” With that, he swiveled about and set off at great speed.
The Baron frowned. “The Lackya are getting… argumentative.” He sighed and settled back into the arms of the clank. “It’s always something.”
“Herr Baron.” Klaus raised his eyebrows in surprise as a group of students appeared from around the edge of a doorway where they had been hiding. Sleipnir stepped forward. “Thank you for taking care of Zulenna, sir.”
Klaus looked uncomfortable. “Not a word about her revivification. We shall talk about this later. Now stand aside. I have—”
“No, Herr Baron.” It was Hezekiah who spoke up. He was sweating profusely, but stood tall. “You’re trying to capture
Agatha, yes?”
Sun Ming chimed in. “Please, just let her go.”
Hezekiah nodded. “She’s a good person, sir. She won’t cause trouble.”
“She didn’t even know she was a Spark.”
“Or a Heterodyne.”
Z looked at the Baron’s face. “But you aren’t going to let her go. Why?”
Klaus sighed. “Because you hardly know her and still you rally to her side, even in defiance of me. If all of you—who have studied under me for so long, and have the best chance of understanding what it is that I have built and how terribly fragile it is—will do so, imagine what the populace at large will do?”
The group of students looked at each other uncertainly, which was when Klaus slipped the mask over his face and activated a new canister of C-Gas. They dropped to the floor and the great clank delicately stepped over them.
“I think it time you all returned home,” he sighed. “Your use to me is ended. I can only hope you’ve learned your lessons.”
Agatha and Theo followed Krosp. Theo suddenly called out, “This isn’t the way to the docking bays! We’ve gotten turned around!”
Krosp paused. “No. I know where we are, but there’s someone we have to bring with us!” Again he took off, leaving Agatha and Theo no choice but to follow. Everywhere there were signs that things were not going well aboard the great airship. In every corridor, lights were flashing orange, and swarms of people were rushing about in a surprisingly orderly fashion.
“Krosp,” Agatha called out, “where are we going?”
“It’s Monday! He’ll be in the chemical locker,” Krosp replied unhelpfully. They reached a large door marked “CHEMICAL STORAGE & DISPOSAL LOCKER 55.”Krosp motioned to Theo. “Open it.”
Theo did. Inside were racks and racks of metal shelves, holding endless canisters and glass tubes. Halfway down the second aisle, the large, hulking figure of Dr. Dim pushed a small cart and delicately wielded a feather duster.
“Papa!” Krosp cried as he ran up and leapt up onto Dim’s cart. The man smiled at the sight of him, and patted his head.
“Hello, Krosp. Are you hungry?” He saw Agatha and DuMedd, and a guilty look crossed his face. “This is a good cat,” he said defensively.
Krosp patted his hand. “It’s all right, Papa. They’re friends. They are here to help us. It’s time for us to leave Castle Wulfenbach.”
Dimitri looked confused. “Leave? I don’t think we can do that.”
“Yes we can. I have a ship, I have a crew, and the Baron is distracted. We have to take this opportunity to escape.”
Dimitri took a step away from his cart and then stopped. Conflicting emotions played across his face. “But, I haven’t finished dusting.”
Krosp stared at him. “Forget the dusting, Papa. It’s not important. We’ve got to—”
The man slammed a hand down on the cart. “You forget yourself, cat.” His face was filled with a cold arrogance that Agatha had seen on any number of Sparks when their knowledge or competence had been questioned. “I am Dr. Dimitri Vapnoople!”
At this declaration, DuMedd started, and looked from the large man to Krosp, and Agatha could see connections being made.