The platform started upward. Zeetha looked at the ball dubiously and tucked it into a pocket.
Violetta looked at Agatha curiously. “What was that?”
Agatha shrugged. “Just a little something that’ll help them.” She considered this. “Probably.” She thought a little more. “Yeah…” She looked at Violetta and bit her lip. “Well, it won’t hurt them, anyway.”
The two women stared upwards. “Oh, gods. They’re doomed, aren’t they?” Violetta asked conversationally.
Agatha turned away. “Nonsense. They’re probably not ‘doomed’ per se…”
As Agatha and Violetta went back to work, Tarvek and Gil lagged behind, watching as the lift disappeared into the shadows above them. Finally, Gil cocked an eyebrow. “All right…So what are we discussing?”
Tarvek took a deep breath. “I’m the Storm King.”
Gil went still. “You’re what?”
Tarvek spoke quietly, urgently. “Agatha and Violetta already know. You need to know, too. Zola is too dangerous—”
Gil interrupted. “Hang on!” He was furious now. “This whole thing with Zola—this is your plan?”
Tarvek waved his hands and addressed the ceiling. “This! Was! Not! My! Plan!” he shouted, exasperated. “My plan was a gem-like thing of perfect beauty!”
“What are you shouting at?” Agatha asked, as she and Violetta joined them.
She never got an answer. A glass sphere suddenly smashed at their feet. A dense cloud of yellow smoke arose, and, with a sigh, she, Violetta, Gil, and Tarvek all collapsed to the ground.
Zola, a gasmask pulled up over her features, stepped out from the shadows. She pulled a small device from a pocket and wound it up. As it ticked, she examined the people lying before her. “Oh, Gil,” she said affectionately, “what am I going to do with you? I do hope you don’t go all stubborn and force me to kill you. I have such lovely plans for you. More now than ever!”
She then turned and shook her head. “Ha. And Prince Tarvek Sturmvarous. You’re still a sentimental fool. Well, we can soon fix that. You’ll be a model Storm King when I’m through with you.”
Another turn and a smile flitted across her face. “Oh dear, and here’s little Violetta. Always the best…at losing. Some things just never change.”
Finally she turned to Agatha. The look on her face was now serious. She shook her head. “And Agatha Heterodyne. Unbelievable. Just by existing you almost spoiled everything.” She nudged Agatha with her boot. “Still…you may be of use to me yet.” The ticking device in her hand chimed and Zola began to remove her gas mask, and pivoted smoothly in time to avoid Violetta’s rush from behind. She gave a delighted laugh.
“Oh! You shook that off quickly. Very good! Very textbook!” She continued to move and her boot caught the seat of Violetta’s pants, sending her crashing to the floor. “And here I was convinced you only passed your examinations because of your family connections!” A graceful flip put her into position to smack her boot brutally into Violetta’s ribs. “But you really should have put more effort into your combat training.” Another kick. “You know, like I did!”
She wound up standing over Agatha, who was still out cold. Violetta raised a hand feebly. “Don’t kill her,” she wheezed. “She’s my…”
Zola looked shocked. “Ooh, you horrid little traitor! She has ruined everything the Order—” she glanced at Tarvek, “and your family has worked so hard for all these years.” She swept in and studied Violetta’s face as the girl struggled to rise. “And yet you’re defending her. Fascinating.” She straightened up. “It’s well known that Sparks can ensure the loyalty of the feeble-minded.” Violetta tensed and Zola punched her in the throat, sending her back to the ground, gasping.
“But don’t you worry, I won’t kill her just yet. I was chosen for this role because I am very good at improvising when things go wrong!” She looked around and sighed dramatically. “So really, I’m in my element right now, wouldn’t you say?” She shrugged philosophically. “There have always been aspects of this operation that were less than ideal in my family’s opinion.” She tapped her jaw thoughtfully. “But I’m beginning to think that I can fix that…”
Violetta roused herself. “Your family? Who—”
With a graceful pirouette, Zola slammed her boot into the side of Violetta’s head, knocking her unconscious. “Ho ho,” she chided. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
After making sure that the girl was in fact out, Zola turned towards Agatha. She giggled. “I don’t know why I bother talking to that girl. But it’s true, I can turn the very worst situations to my advantage, and this one does have such potential.” She pulled a small ampoule from a pouch. She snapped the vial and waved it under Agatha’s nose. “Wakey, wakey, cheri,” she sang cheerfully.
Agatha started and her eyes fluttered open. “Mwa?” She saw Zola and gasped as Zola deftly plucked the trilobite amulet from around her throat.
“NO!” Agatha screamed. “DON’T!” She clutched at her head.
With a cry of triumph, Lucrezia roared forth. Then she looked around her, and blinked in surprise. She stared at Zola. “Oh! My goodness. Who—?”
Zola looked down at her and smiled. “Hello, Auntie Lucrezia, I’m here to help you.”
TO BE CONTINUED IN VOLUME 4:
Agatha H and the Siege of Mechanicsburg
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99 Georges Feydeau was a French playwright who specialized in comedic farce. His plays are known for their witty and complex plots, usually involving misunderstandings and bizarre coincidences. While not a Spark himself, he found much material in portraying their lives, which tended to be full of complexity, misunderstandings, and coincidences. Aptly, he was killed by an enraged lover, who mistook him for the clank duplicate that an appreciative Spark fan had constructed of him. The duplicate functioned for another two decades, and due to the increasingly erratic nature of its writings (caused by a lack of maintenance), became a key forerunner of Absurdist Theatre. His best known work remains A Flea in Her Gear.
A NOTE FROM YOUR HUMBLE EDITOR
Here at Pontexeter Publications, we strive to provide the most complete, well-researched and up-to-date listings for our readers. Yet, as any seasoned traveler will tell you, conditions in foreign lands can change overnight for any number of incomprehensible foreign reasons, which is why you should always remember the famous dictate of our founder, Ulysses Pontexeter, “Pack half the luggage you want, twice the money you think you’ll need, and keep ready a fast horse.”
There is no better exemplar of this than the famous town of Mechanicsburg. In the twenty years since the 9th Edition was published, things have changed so much that we have had to completely rewrite the listing. We apologize in advance for any discrepancies the traveler may encounter. Just remember; this is still Mechanicsburg.
MECHANICSBURG. ROMANIA
When you first glimpse one of the most storied towns in Europa, you will probably be disappointed at its modest size.
For close to a thousand years, Mechanicsburg has been the home of the infamous Heterodynes: that dynasty of merciless Sparks who once roamed the continent at will, plundering and subjugating all before them. Mechanicsburg was and is their capital, but the traveler will discover that it is unlike any other capital city on Earth.