Agatha glared around and seemed a bit put out at the lack of further obstacles to incinerate.
“Yes, my lady!” the Castle spoke quickly now: “It is indeed a lovely death ray! But… could you perhaps lower the power just a little more?”
Agatha made a moue of disappointment. “Aw, but I already turned it way down.”
“Which is probably the only reason I am still standing.” When it spoke again, there was an odd quality to its voice. “Er…Please?”
I’ve scared it, Agatha realized. A feeling of guilt swept through her. She knew she was being unreasonable, and the thought aggravated her more. “All right. Fine. I’ll turn it down. Anyway, it’s not like we can’t rebuild everything when—”
“Oh dear.”
“What? Am I about to be amusingly dumped into lava or something? Because at this point—”
“No, my lady, it is the Imposter. She is now showing your young man the device with which she intends to shut me down.”
Agatha gasped. “Oh no. Already?”
The Castle paused. There was a slight gloat in its voice when it spoke again. “Ah. It seems they are missing some essential parts. Good. But…do act quickly.” It paused. “Also, please be careful, you are about to leave the area under my direct control.”
Agatha swiveled about and stared back at the corridor she had just come through. “I thought I already had! What were all those traps about, then?”
“My apologies. But many of the more sophisticated traps currently have minds of their own. I do not control them.”
The Castle’s unconcerned attitude was not helping Agatha’s mood.
“Tch. When I get around to redesigning you, it’ll be with a hammer.” She sighed. “So, what am I heading into now, then? More of the same?”
“Oh, dear, no. It’s much worse from here.”
“Lovely. It’s not more of those fun-sized tiger things, is it?”
“Oh, yes. There’s one of those directly ahead of you, as a matter of fact—” Agatha stopped dead. The Castle continued, “but it has been incapacitated.”
Warily, Agatha peeked around the doorway. The hulk of one of the fearsome mechanisms was stretched out on the floor before her. Its carapace gleamed in the light that poured in through tall stained glass windows. The reason for its incapacitation was clear—several of the javelins that Agatha had encountered earlier had pierced it. Dried puddles of fluid crusted the rug beneath it.
Agatha frowned. “Wow. What happened?”
“I have said the controlling mind here has gone mad. Here is the proof. It has begun to destroy Castle systems. The Serpent’s Gallery is beyond this room. I will not be able to communicate with you when you leave.”
Agatha leaned down to examine the prone machine. As her hand passed before one of its eyes, the device shuddered and a massive paw flexed. She leapt back. “You said it was incapacitated!”
“That is not the same as deactivated.”
Agatha knelt down and reexamined the machine. An idea flickered. “Hm. I can use some of this…” she muttered. “Fine. I’ll stop here for a moment and you can tell me how to get to Gil.
“How many of Pinkie’s people are with him?”
“The Imposter has three minions with her. They are armed, as is she. There are also five prisoners. Four Sparks, one minion. They are all dangerous.”
Agatha pondered this. As she thought, she began to hum, the strange, faint sound rising and falling through the empty halls. Suddenly she stopped, a gleam in her eye. “Oh yes,” she said under her breath. “I can use some of this.”
“My Lady…while I realize the futility of trying to dissuade you from acquiring greater firepower, could you please try not to hit anything…er…structural?”
Agatha had to smile at this. “Oh, stop whining. You’ll be fine,” she told the Castle. “You’re incredibly overbuilt.”
The Castle was pleased. “Oooh! Do you really think so?”
As the Castle preened, Agatha pulled out a little pocket clank—the near twin of the one Gil had sent into the Castle walls—and began winding it. With a whir and a snap it clicked to attention.
“What is that?” the Castle asked with a touch of alarm.
“It’s a little clank,” Agatha explained. “I like to have assistants when I work, so I make them.”
The little device gave her a salute. Agatha brought it down to the broken fun-sized tiger clank. “Let’s see what we can do with this thing, okay?” she told it.
“I don’t like it,” the Castle boomed.
Agatha rolled her eyes. “Oh, for goodness’ sake. It’s just one little clank.”
The little clank examined the mechanism it had been offered and its gears squeaked with glee. There were lots of parts here.
A short while later, Gil let out a deep breath and settled back onto his heels. “And then all I have to do is hook this lead up to this connector!”
“¡Ingenioso!” Professor Diaz rubbed his jaw. “Superb.”
Gil waved a hand. “You’re too kind, Professor.”
Diaz snorted. “I assure you, young man, I have never been noted for my kindness.”
Zola came up behind them. “What are you two doing here?”
Diaz tapped the device before them. “Your pirata, señorita. He has reworked the device! How, I am not quite sure, but he has eliminated the need for all but a few of the stolen pieces.”
Gil shrugged. “Give me a machine shop and a few days and I’ll replace those, as well.”
Zola smiled with delight. “Another day is simply too long, and the men I sent should be back with the parts soon enough. But still,” Zola patted Gil on the cheek. “That was very sweet of you.” She took his arm and pulled him away from the device. “Now you should come, sit down, and get something to eat. I’ll bet you’ve forgotten again, haven’t you?”
A gurgling sound from his midsection confirmed this and Gil allowed himself to be led to a seat. Zola handed him a bottle of homebrewed beer and a sandwich made from some sort of crustacean that apparently could be eaten whole, much like a soft-shelled crab. It was savory and unexpectedly tasty. He had his suspicions as to its origins72 but realized he was so hungry that he did not particularly care.
Zola silently watched him eat, which was unusual behavior for her. When Gil took a final pull from the bottle and sighed in contentment, she leaned forward and wiped a spot of mustard off his nose.
“You know, Gil,” she said fondly, “I have to say, when I first saw you, I had some very mixed feelings.”
Gil blinked. “Zola, I told you, that money was a gift, not a loan.” A wistful smile flitted across Zola’s face. “No, I meant that usually, back in Paris, when you showed up it meant that something had gone wrong.” She shyly glanced at Gil, who was desperately trying to keep his face neutral. “And I was…I was going to need rescuing. Again.”
Gil looked guilty. “Oh, well, I…”
A new voice cut in: “Oh, something’s certainly gone wrong.”
There, in the doorway, stood Agatha. She was very pointedly ignoring Gil—instead glaring furiously at Zola. In one hand, she held something that looked like a repurposed soldering gun. In the other, she gripped the handle of an ornate lantern-sized battery cylinder—the kind one might find in a medium-sized clank. A short cable connected the two devices.
Agatha pointed the gun-like part of the device directly at the astonished people in the room but continued talking to Zola: “But whether or not you’re going to need rescuing? That’s up to you.”
“You!” Zola rose, baring her teeth in a fierce snarl. “Kill!” She screamed to her men. The order was drowned out by a hellish crash, as the stained glass window beside her shattered. Through it leaped a roaring nightmare built like a huge metal tiger.