“And if I don’t go along,” Moloch yelled, “you’ll amuse yourself by squashing me like a bug! I’m doomed either way!”
“You have a remarkably astute grasp of the situation,” the Castle said with a grudging respect.
“I’ve been around way too many Sparks,” Moloch sobbed.
“And yet, even after dealing with them all, you are still alive,” the Castle pointed out.
Moloch raised his head in surprise. “I…well, I…I guess I am.”
“Amateurs!” the Castle sneered.
Moloch looked beseechingly at Agatha. “Come on—can’t you just find a new boyfriend?”
But Agatha was already running. “Hurry!”
Almost five minutes later, they topped yet another stairwell. As they ran, Agatha’s mind raced.
“So how do I beat these things?” she asked.
Moloch groaned. “You can’t! All you can do is get to a place where they can’t reach you. They’re really strong, really fast, and really well-built.”
Agatha considered this. “Are they really smart?”
The Castle answered. “Without me controlling them? Not very.”
Agatha grinned. “Okay, I can work with that.” She looked at the closed doors. “You could take them out, right?”
The Castle paused. “Yesssss…”
Moloch perked up. “Hey! I get it! Lure them out here and the Castle can smash them for us!”
“Destroy my own security systems?” The Castle sounded shocked.
Agatha cleared her throat.
“Oh, very well, but I’ll want them repaired later.”
“Holy smokes,” Moloch marveled. “That is a good plan.”
Agatha smiled as she slowly opened one of the doors. “Isn’t it, though?” Beyond was a large open room, some sort of feast hall. In the dim light, they could see that there was a long open fireplace along one wall—and the rest were hung with musty tapestries. It was impossible to see what was actually depicted upon them, but from what Agatha could see, the artist had liked using a lot of red. Above was an impressive set of exposed ceiling beams. A row of tall windows, the glass long smashed out, allowed a breeze to blow through the room. The furniture had fallen into ruin due to rain rot and insects.
Agatha stepped through the door. Nothing moved. Moloch crept in behind her. She pointed to a set of doors located in a far corner. They moved quietly towards them. “Now we just have to find them,” she said in a low voice. “Castle? How close to those things are we?”
A huge golden claw erupted from the shadows and slammed the door through which they had entered. A deep mechanical growl rose behind them.
Moloch closed his eyes. “Pretty close,” he whispered. “Don’t move!”
Agatha’s eyes ached from strain as she tried to look behind her—but she froze in place. “Are you kidding me?”
A metallic sound, like a mechanism slowly walking, came from behind them. “They react to movement,” Moloch said urgently. “So we want to get out of its line of sight, and then run like mad for someplace it can’t get to.”
Another step. Very close now. Agatha could hear poorly maintained gears grinding as it took yet another step towards them. Agatha frantically swept her eyes across the room.
“I don’t think that’s really an option here. I don’t see anywhere we can hide.”
A gigantic metal paw crashed to the ground between them. It was lovingly engraved with swirls and arabesques and had once been polished to a high gleam, but now it was encrusted with oil, dust, and what was very probably old blood.
Agatha felt her heart pounding so hard that she was sure her skin must be vibrating…But nothing more happened.
We can’t keep this up forever, Agatha thought. We’ll get tired or get a cramp or an itch—just like the one that has magically bloomed on my knee. Great. She realized that her breathing had sped up. She tried to remember the breathing exercises that Zeetha had taught her but they shot out of her head when a metal muzzle—festooned with cruel looking spines—eased into her peripheral vision. She saw Moloch close his eyes and heard a faint whimper. The head began to swing her way—when a boot sailed out of the darkness, bounced off the top of the automaton’s head, and flew into a corner.
With a sound like a locomotive, the mechanical creature dived after it. As it passed between Agatha and Moloch, a woman’s voice from the blackness above called out: “Sit down! Cover your mouth with your hands, and don’t move!”
They did so, and could see the “steam cat” now. In Agatha’s opinion, it did look like an enormous cat, but easily the size of one of the draft horses that had pulled wagons in the circus. Armored and covered in spines, hooks, and sharp edges, it had a large mouthful of jagged metal teeth which snapped open and shut in a idle mechanical reflex as it quested about the room.
Finding nothing, it swung about, red-lit eyes gleaming, and after a moment slowly padded back towards them.
“You can talk,” the mysterious voice from above informed them. “Just don’t let it see your mouth moving.” The steam cat didn’t react to this voice, just continued to slowly advance. It came up to Moloch and the red eyes swept over him once…twice… and then with a clank, the thing turned away and moved off back towards the door they had come in by.
Agatha swallowed the lump in her throat. “It—” she realized that she would have to speak loudly from behind her hands. “It can’t hear us?”
No reaction from the device, which had begun a slow circuit of the room.
“Apparently,” said the helpful voice, “it can’t even see us unless we’re actually moving. What? Like a what?”
Agatha heard murmuring and realized that there was at least another person above them. They must be up on the rafters, she realized.
“Oh, thank you, yes, like a frog.” The voice was annoyed now. “Thank you for that piece of incredibly useless information. Now shut up and if you open your mouth again I will gut you like a trout!”
From behind her cupped hands, Agatha spoke up. “It’s not supposed to work like this! It’s another rogue system. It doesn’t work properly if it isn’t linked with the Castle.”
The voice from above sighed in obvious exasperation. “You Sparks can’t keep from running your mouths even when you have nothing useful to say. It doesn’t have to be working right. All it has to do is stay here not seeing us—yes, okay, like a giant metal frog with claws—until we fall over from thirst and exhaustion!”
Agatha waited until the voice wound down. “I have a way to stop it,” she said.
A brief silence. “You do?”
“Yes. I need to lure it through the door we just came through.” The giant metal creature padded over to them and sank to its haunches, its glowing eyes fixed upon the door in question. Agatha took a deep breath. “But we need it…distracted.”
The voice considered this. “Well…that should—what?” More low murmuring came from above. “I swear to the Mother of Knives, if this is more idiocy—all right! All right!” Another sigh. “You—what did you do to Vrin?”
Agatha was so surprised that she started slightly. Instantly, the automaton’s attention snapped to her. Agatha held her breath while her mind raced.
“Vrin? I don’t—”
The voice from above prodded her. “Lady Vrin. In Sturmhalten. What did you do to her?”
“Who are you?” Agatha felt a flush of sweat. The voice didn’t sound like one of the strange warrior women she had fled from in Sturmhalten, but how many others even knew of Lady Vrin’s existence?
“Please. This is very important.” Despite this statement, it was obvious that the speaker thought it a waste of time.
Agatha didn’t want to make an enemy of the owner of the voice, but…
“You won’t be mad?”
“I’m already mad!” the voice growled, “But not about whatever stupid thing this is about. Please.”