Gilgamesh Wulfenbach and the Men of Letters 2/?
Eh, it's Sunday. I'll call it a week. :D
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Chapter 2
Leap of Faith without a Net
It said something about the severity of Kevin Tran’s post-Branson hangover that when the bunker began to shake, he merely thought, Oh, something blew up and rolled over and went back to sleep. It said something about his relationship with the Winchesters that he didn’t realize anything was amiss when Dean stopped answering his calls for help; he merely assumed the brothers had gone out without telling him. They almost never told him anything, since currently his primary job as prophet was translating a stone tablet that held all the information about angels God wanted humans to have in case of emergency. They cherished the possibly vain hope of finding some way to reverse the spell Metatron had used to cast down the angels. Kevin didn’t even think anything of the fact that when he finally managed to drag himself out of bed for more than the call of nature, the Winchesters had apparently been gone for several days. Sam hadn’t taken his laptop, but if it had been a major emergency, he might not have taken time to pack.
No, Kevin didn’t actually realize anything was wrong until the morning he passed the stairway to the garage and heard Dean’s ringtone... but Dean didn’t answer it.
Frowning, Kevin paused to listen. The ringtone stopped, then started again a moment later and played until it stopped. Yet there were no sounds of Dean working in the garage or otherwise being too occupied to answer. Then Sam’s ringtone went off, and again, there was no answer. Now truly worried, Kevin started up the stairs, only to have his own phone ring.
“Kevin!” Castiel barked when Kevin answered. “Where are Sam and Dean?”
“I-I dunno,” Kevin replied. “Sounds like they left their phones in the garage.”
“You’re sure they left?”
“N-no. I’ve been... sick, but I haven’t seen them for a few days. But I’m on my way to look in the garage. Is there something I can do for you, Castiel?”
“No. I... really need Dean’s help if you can find him.”
Just then, Kevin reached the garage. “Well, the car’s gone,” he reported. “Maybe they left a note with the phones.”
“Perhaps.” But Castiel didn’t sound convinced.
Kevin checked the workbenches and came up empty. “Try calling Dean’s phone again,” he suggested. “That should help me find it.”
“All right.” Castiel hung up.
Kevin listened for Dean’s ringtone and followed it to a corner, where the phone lay on the floor next to Sam’s-which had a shattered screen, as if it had been dropped suddenly. Then he noticed the weird brass thingy lying in front of the phones. Swearing, he snapped a picture and sent it to Castiel.
Dean’s phone stopped ringing, and Kevin’s started a second later. “That’s all you found?” Castiel demanded when Kevin answered.
“Everything. I didn’t touch anything, either.”
Castiel muttered something in Enochian, but Kevin didn’t quite catch it. “All right,” he said then in English. “I’ll deal with the situation here and come to you as quickly as I can. Search that brass device carefully to see what you can learn from it. Do not go near Crowley under any circumstances, is that clear?”
“Crystal.”
“And Kevin?”
“Yes, Castiel?”
Castiel paused before saying gently, “You may call me Cas.”
Sleipnir O’Hara and Theopholous DuMedd stared incredulously at Gil as one of the barmaids at Mamma Gkika’s set food in front of the three of them-and Gadreel, who was eating at Jenka’s insistence. (Well, actually, Jenka had threatened to rip Winchester’s throat out if Gadreel didn’t eat, and when Gadreel had countered that he’d only heal the wound, she’d shot back that he didn’t have the energy to spare and if he passed out and if Winchester woke up before he did, she’d tell Winchester everything. And that, of course, meant that Gil had to tell Sleipnir and Theo everything once Gadreel caved unhappily in the face of Jenka’s apparently correct surmise.)
“I’ve worked out a design for the clank,” Gil concluded, sketching said design quickly on a piece of paper he’d requested from Mamma. “But we’ll have to work fast if we’re going to have any chance of finishing before Agatha gets back to the castle with Dean.”
Jenka tapped his shoulder. “Hyu eatz, too. Or elz.”
Gil gulped and started wolfing down his food, realizing belatedly that he hadn’t eaten since... well, since before the Si Vales Valeo, probably. And that was... how many days ago already? Not that it mattered, ultimately. After all, even if the castle could hold its own, it wouldn’t do for Gil to pass out in the middle of the battle.
Especially in front of Agatha.
Theo took off his pince-nez with a sigh and rubbed the spot between his eyebrows with his other hand. “Gil, if you’re counting on the castle for help-”
Gil shook his head and swallowed hurriedly. “No, the castle’s got bigger problems. We just need to get Gadreel back to the Great Movement Chamber before the castle seals up the shaft Agatha blasted to get down to it.”
“That’s just it. The castle has got bigger problems. Sturmvoraus came by over an hour ago, looking for Agatha. The castle’s used up almost all of its reserve energy-the defenses won’t last much longer. And even with all the other sparks working on it, all the wretched thing will say is, ‘I require a spark.’”
“Blue fire! All right, eat fast. We’ve got even less time than I thought.”
Theo nodded, put his pince-nez back on, and dug in.
“But Gil,” Sleipnir objected, “if Dean’s with Agatha, he may already be in the castle.”
“If he is, she’ll probably have put him straight to work. He’s a spark, too-maybe still breaking through, but it’s there all the same.”
Gadreel looked up in alarm. “What?!”
Gil ignored him. “That’s not the point. The point is, if we don’t have a fully functioning castle... or, well, even if we do, the one thing my father will never expect is a fully functioning angel.”
“We do not yet even know-”
“Look, from what you told me about the properties of your ‘grace,’ the Dyne should charge your capacitors completely without harming Winchester. If all you lack are your wings, the clank will take care of that.”
“And if you are wrong?”
Sleipnir’s spoon clattered into her bowl. “What-but-Gil’s a spark!”
Theo frowned. “You don’t even know what that means, do you, Gadreel?”
Gadreel matched Theo’s frown. “You say that Dean is one. And Gilgamesh did build his flying machine very quickly, but I do not see....”
“The Spark is a gift-a... a kind of preternatural affinity for science and ability to build machines and conduct experiments and the like. Most country folk think it’s magic, but it’s not.”
“Nor is it a guarantee of infallibility.”
“But if the theory is sound enough, we can correct our mistakes quickly, before anyone gets hurt.”
“Well, not seriously hurt, anyway,” Gil amended.
Gadreel opened his mouth to object again, but suddenly his eyes widened. “Oh. The radio in the car. It came on of its own accord-and there was no tape in the tape deck.”
Now it was Gil’s turn to frown. “What does that mean?”
Gadreel turned to him with a slight look of panic. “Never mind. This gift-can it run in families?”
“Uh, yeah. Usually does.”
“And it conveys protections, like the protection against slaver wasps?”
Gil’s frown deepened. “What are you getting at?”
“Something stirs in Sam’s blood. Not-it is nothing I have sensed in him before.”
Swearing, Gil, Sleipnir, and Theo jumped up from the table and dragged Gadreel outside, where it was starting to rain, to Gil’s surprise. Sleipnir ran ahead and snagged a clank that was still in good enough working order to repair on the fly, and that was able to get them more speed, though not nearly as much as Dean’s car (and Gil was so going to have to ask Dean for plans once this was over). Still, even though the clank got them into the castle and to the Great Movement Chamber in less time than it would have taken them to reach the castle causeway on foot, Gadreel was visibly fighting for control by the time they arrived at the headwaters of the Dyne.
“Work fast,” Gil told Theo as they eased Gadreel out of the clank.
“You know it,” Theo replied.
Sleipnir produced a cup from somewhere-Gil wasn’t inclined to ask questions at this point-and quickly filled it from the river near the spring, being careful not to touch the water herself. Gadreel took it from her with a nod of thanks, then sipped carefully... and gasped.
“Gadreel?” Gil prompted.
“It... it is working... oh, Father, forgive me,” Gadreel breathed and downed the rest.
A clatter arose somewhere toward the maintenance shed, but Gil couldn’t supervise. Theo had seen the sketch; he was a good enough engineer to make it work, perhaps even better than Gil himself could. Gil had to keep an eye on Gadreel and pray to a God he wasn’t sure existed that he hadn’t just killed Winchester-especially since there was another Winchester out there with a gun and a distinct aversion to losing his brother.
“Gilgamesh,” Gadreel panted after a moment, “forgive my doubt... and shield your eyes!”
Gil flung himself down and covered his head with his arms, screwing his eyes shut even though he’d pressed his face to the floor. And still he was aware of a blinding light erupting along with a high-pitched whine that made the floor shake and could have shattered glass had it been sustained for more than a second. The light lasted close to a minute before the room was plunged back into its usual level of darkness, lit only by the glowing water from the spring. And Gil lifted his head to see Winchester flat on his back and gasping for breath.
“Gadreel?!” he cried.
“Done,” Gadreel panted. “It is done. Clank... where is....”
“Two minutes!” Theo called, and the clatter burst out again at an even more frenzied pitch.
“We are healed,” Gadreel told Gil. “Only stunned. My... my true form... was required... to absorb... but Sam’s... Sam’s gift... the Spark... it grows stronger... his consciousness... is suppressed, but he will... become aware of me soon....”
“Just hold on,” Gil ordered, putting a hand on Gadreel’s chest. “Theo knows what he’s doing. Surely you can hold out another ninety seconds.”
Gadreel nodded and worked at regaining control of both his breathing and his heart rate, which Gil felt slowing under his hand.
Once it seemed like Gadreel had mostly caught his breath, Gil asked, “Will you need the clank brought over, or-”
“No. It will not be necessary to move either it or us. But it will be bright again.”
“Thanks for the warning.”
“DONE!” Theo and Sleipnir chorused a few moments later.
“EYES!” Gil called back and shielded his own again a split second before Gadreel let go. There was no whine this time, but somehow Gil could sense the angel’s energy flowing overhead for a brief moment before the clank creaked in the way that meant its consciousness had come online.
Gil had just picked himself up when Winchester sat bolt upright with a gasp, blew the air out of his cheeks, and put a hand to his head.
“You all right, Winchester?” Gil asked.
Winchester nodded. “Yeah, head rush. It’ll clear in a minute. How long was I out?”
“A few hours.”
“Where are we?”
“Castle Heterodyne. I couldn’t risk Dupree leading my father to us, so I dosed her and myself and got us back here as fast as I safely could. I-”
“SAM!” came a bellow from above, followed by the rattle of the lift lowering. “Wulfenbach, if you’ve done anything to my brother, I will end you!”
“I’m fine, Dean!” Winchester hollered back as he stood. “Haven’t felt this good since college!”
“I’ll believe that when I see it, Sammy!”
“College,” Sleipnir echoed as the lift reached the floor with a clang. “Is that like uni?”
Winchester cleared his throat in surprise. “Uh, yeah. I went to Stanford University-it... may not exist here yet.”
“And what did you study?”
“Law. I was pre-law.”
Before anyone could ask any more questions, Gil found himself confronted with the need to switch to first names for the Winchesters, as Dean ran up and started checking Sam over. “Sam, what the hell happened?”
Sam batted Dean’s hands away. “Dude, I told you, I’m fine. Got into a fight with a pirate queen who works for the baron, and she gave me a headache, but it’s wearing off.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” answered an electronic voice. “He is whole, Dean.”
Dean frowned and looked around, and then both he and Sam stared at the seven-foot humanoid clank with graceful wings of canvas and brass-not as graceful as the Van Rijn body that had originally housed Otilia, Muse of Protection, but this one had been built to house a more masculine consciousness anyway.
“What the-” both brothers began.
Then Dean’s eyes widened further. “Zeke?!”
Sam did a double-take.
The clank gave a brief squeak of feedback before a more human-sounding voice said, “Ah, there.” It was a male voice, but not Sam’s-perhaps a bit deeper, accented differently, but still with the quiet power and somewhat stilted diction Gil had heard before. “We were not made to be housed in mechanical vessels, but this will serve for now. Sam, Dean, I owe you both an apology. I have kept my word... but I have not told the whole truth.”
“Wait,” said Sam. “You’re an angel. One of our angels.”
“Yes. I was brought here along with you. Do not be angry with Dean-it was my idea to heal you from within.”
“WHAT?!”
“Sammy, there was no other way,” Dean stated.
“What-you-”
“You agreed to live. You agreed to let me save you.”
“But I didn’t agree to that!” Sam exploded, pointing at Gadreel.
“Cas said Zeke was okay!”
“He was,” Gadreel interrupted. “But I am not Ezekiel.”
Dean turned to Gadreel, eyes wide in shock. “You-you’re-”
“I feared you would not accept my help if you knew my true name. The stories about me, they are not true.”
“So what is your true name?”
“Gadreel.”
Dean looked at Sam, who shook his head.
“Castiel would have told you. I was the guard at Eden’s gate when Lucifer... he deceived me,” Gadreel pleaded, falling to one knee. “He swore he came to give Adam and Eve gifts. Had I known his true intent, I would never have let him pass!”
Sam swallowed hard. “You let Lucifer into Eden? The day that....”
“Yes. Believe me, I have paid for that crime a thousand times over. And I have kept my word. Sam, you are healed-from the trials, from Hell, every wound that I could find that did not stem from your own memories. Please... can you ever forgive me?”
Dean turned away, running a hand over his mouth. Then in one swift motion, he turned back, pulled his gun, and shot Gadreel right between his mechanical eyes. Theo, Sleipnir, and Gil all yelped, but apart from the bullet hole, Gadreel didn’t seem to be damaged.
“Don’t you ever lie to me again,” Dean growled, lowering his gun.
The metal around the bullet hole crinkled back into place, leaving only a dent and some slight scarring. Gil suspected Gadreel left that much damage deliberately. But all the angel said was a very quiet, “Thank you, Dean.”
The ensuing silence, tense as it was, allowed Gil to finally register the castle’s voice repeating “I require... a... spark....” But only a few seconds passed before even that was interrupted by a loud boom from somewhere outside.
And seconds after that, a head appeared over the edge of the shaft-pale skin, long maroon hair, pince-nez... Sturmvoraus. “What the-Wulfenbach! Why are you building clanks at a time like this? Get up here! Your father’s sent a battering ram!”
Gil swore, and humans and angel followed him to the lift. “Gadreel said you have an arsenal in your car,” he said to Dean as they ran.
“Yeah,” Dean replied. “What do you need?”
“This ram-it’s like a giant sheep. Shielded against most anything the castle could throw at it if the defenses were online, from electricity to conventional ammunition.”
“Any weaknesses?”
“The eyes, but it keeps its head down unless the rider pulls it back.”
As everyone piled onto the lift platform, Dean shot a questioning look at Sam, who still looked sour and replied, “Don’t think we’re not going to talk about this.”
Dean shook his head once and started the lift. “Dude, you can beat me up as many times as you want tomorrow, but let’s make sure we both live that long.”
Sam huffed. “Fine. Molotov?”
“Now you’re talkin’. Need a glass bottle,” Dean told Gil, “about two-thirds full of kerosene mixed with motor oil, and a strip of fabric that’ll burn easily.”
“What good will that do?” Gil asked as the lift came to a stop.
“Trust us,” the brothers chorused.
Gil sighed and started shouting orders as the group disembarked, then followed Sam and Dean out of the castle to the city square where the car was parked. Dean pulled a key out of his pocket and opened a spacious compartment at the back-for holding luggage, perhaps?-and lifted what appeared to be the bottom, which Sam held open while Dean retrieved a large case from a truly impressive stash of weaponry. Gil didn’t have time to register everything in that compartment before Sam closed it again, and Dean laid the case on the false bottom and opened it to reveal some kind of gun. Then Dean slid off one piece, which was probably a magazine, and checked its ammunition before retrieving another from the case.
“Incendiary rounds?” Sam asked.
“Yeah,” Dean replied and slammed the new magazine into place.
“How do we even-”
“Don’t ask.” Dean slung the gun’s strap over his shoulder, then shut the case and the luggage compartment.
One of the castle’s former prisoners ran up just then with the requested bottle of kerosene and a cleaning rag. “Will these do, Herr Wulfenbach?”
“Perfect,” said Sam, taking them and stuffing one end of the rag into the bottle. “Where’s Agatha?”
“This way,” said Sturmvoraus, who had followed them. As they in turn followed him, he looked at Gil. “So you decided to save yourself after all?”
“I decided to save Winchester,” Gil snapped. “What have I missed?”
“Your father had the Vespiary Squad ship shot down. I saved as many of the wasp eaters and notes as I could, but Dr. Bren is dead.”
Gil swore bitterly. “That must be Lucrezia’s influence.”
“Probably the copy in Anevka, unless Zola managed to survive the attack on the hospital.”
“Not likely, but not impossible.”
“The castle, as you no doubt heard, is dying. Agatha had an idea, but then the ram showed up.”
“Father’s probing the defenses.”
“And he’s about to find their limits. If Agatha can’t get the castle up and running... we’ve got your lightning stick, but....”
“That won’t be much good for much longer. Father will be shielding everything soon, if he hasn’t already.”
“So that’s it. We’re done.”
“Not quite,” said Dean. “We got an ace in the hole and one more up our sleeve.”
“At least,” Sam agreed.
Sturmvoraus looked dubious, and Gil himself had his doubts about the Winchesters’ ability to take down the ram with conventional weaponry. Still, whatever they had planned, Father wouldn’t be expecting it. And he also wouldn’t be expecting Gadreel, who was manually bracing the gate when the team arrived. The ram had just struck again and was on its way back to take another run, so the men ran up to join Agatha, Jäger General Zog, and other defenders on the wall above the gate. Gil started to introduce Sam to Agatha, but neither brother was paying attention; Sam was lighting the dry end of the rag, and Dean was setting the bipod of his gun on the rampart.
“What are they doing?” Agatha asked.
“Er, well,” Gil hedged, not being entirely sure himself.
Then the ram wheeled around to charge the gate again, and Dean put his eye to what Gil belatedly realized was a sighting scope and followed the ram’s progress toward the gate. But before the ram could strike, Sam hurled the bottle with the flaming rag down toward it, and it shattered in a fireball squarely on the back of the ram’s head. The rider startled back, jerking the ram’s head upward-and Dean fired twice in rapid succession, hitting the ram once in each eye. The vitreous humors caught fire, and the ram ran off bellowing in a blind panic as it tried in vain to escape the flames consuming it from without and within. The Jägers roared in approval.
“What was that?” Agatha demanded of Sam. “What did you throw?”
“It’s called a Molotov cocktail,” Sam replied. “They’re mostly used in riots where we come from.”
Gil cleared his throat. “Agatha, may I present Sam Winchester, Dean’s brother. Sam, this is the Lady Heterodyne.”
Sam nodded in acknowledgment. “Ma’am.”
“Mr. Winchester,” Agatha returned.
“We may have stopped the ram,” said Sturmvoraus, brushing his bangs out of his face and pushing his pince-nez up his nose, “but the baron surely knows those were conventional weapons, even if they’re ones he’s never seen before. Whatever he sends next won’t be the sort of thing we can stop with a rifle or a firebomb.”
The Winchesters looked at each other and chorused, “Dragons.”
And sure enough, a red dragon with a purely decorative breastplate bearing the Wulfenbach badge strode up the road, accompanied by a squire on a donkey, and demanded that Mechanicsburg surrender Agatha or be destroyed. Franz Scortchmaw, the Great Dragon of Mechanicsburg, leapt over the walls to fight the Wulfenbach dragon, but that didn’t go very well until Agatha zapped Franz with the lightning stick to recharge his energy. Then the rain began to fall in earnest, and Agatha had just given orders to power up the lightning generators Gil had originally used to power the lightning stick so that she could recharge the castle when a batch of giant clanks claiming to be Knights of Jove turned up to “rescue” Agatha-and Father pulled back the illusion he’d laid over the battlefield, revealing an overwhelming force surrounding the city, far greater than the assault ought to need to crush either the Knights of Jove or the city or both. Gen. Zog noted as much.
Gil’s head suddenly felt light as the enormity of the situation dawned on him. “Me. He wanted to overawe me. If he’d caught me... he’d have tried to use all this as leverage.”
Agatha turned and put a hand on his arm. “Leverage for what?”
“I-I don’t know. But he knows I’d do anything to protect you.” He turned and put both hands on her shoulders. “You’ve got to get the castle recharged now.”
She nodded once, grim-faced. But before she could say anything, a Dreen floated up and demanded that Agatha surrender. Dean tried to shoot it, to no avail. Gen. Zog and Sturmvoraus scooped Agatha up to get her to safety-
-and a burst of white light shot from behind them, vaporizing the Dreen.
“Vot der hay?!” gasped Gen. Zog, setting Agatha back on her feet, as Gadreel settled at the top of the stairs.
“Fear not,” said Gadreel. “I am Gadreel. I am an angel of the Lord.”
Dean turned to him. “You got your wings back, dude?”
“I can at least use the wings of this clank.”
Gil looked at Agatha. “Where’s the lightning stick?”
She held it up and looked up at Gadreel. “I need to get someplace high enough that I can hit the castle with a lightning bolt.”
Gadreel looked at the castle and back at her. “Would the roof suffice?”
“Um. Sure.”
Gadreel turned to Gil. “I shall keep her safe.” And with that, he swept Agatha into his arms, unfurled the clank’s wings, and shot into the air as if he had rocket boosters on his heels.
“Hmph,” said a deep voice from outside the walls. “Show-off.” Everyone turned to see one of the Knights of Jove clanks opening to reveal the driver, a muscle-bound guy in a white suit with a gold waistcoat and sash, a circlet bearing a lightning bolt... and maroon hair. “I didn’t even have time-”
“Tweedle, you idiot, get out of there!” Sturmvoraus hollered.
“Ah,” said Gil. “One of yours?”
Sturmvoraus snorted. “Wish he weren’t. My cousin Martellus von Blitzengaard.”
Von Blitzengaard huffed. “Give it up, Tarvek. You’ve been replaced. I am the newly-ascended Storm King.”
“Over my dead body,” Dean snarled, aiming his rifle at the pretender.
“Stand down, Winchester,” Gil ordered.
“Shut up and jump!” Sturmvoraus called.
Von Blitzengaard was about to object when the whine of an incoming shell prompted him to obey just before his clank exploded. “You’re supposed to be dead!” he groused at Sturmvoraus then.
“Oh, I’ll just bet I am,” Sturmvoraus snarled back.
“I was told you were dead when I was called here!”
“Called? By whom?”
The answer appeared at the bottom of the stairs, where the abbess of the Red Cathedral sat waiting astride a destrier in front of a battalion of clanks she called Bloodstone Paladins, which she declared were sworn to the service of the Storm King. Von Blitzengaard leapt onto the horse she had waiting for him and led the Paladins out the battered gate.
As the Paladins passed, though, the abbess dismounted and turned on Gil, holding him at swordpoint. “Do not commit the folly of believing that girl a true Heterodyne, young Wulfenbach,” she said quietly. “And do not think you have any hope of aiding her against your father. She is nothing but a pawn to aid the ascension of the Storm King-and you are now my hostage to be used against both her and the empire if it becomes necessary.”
Sam shot her.
Humans were so fragile. That was all Gadreel could think as he soared toward the castle roof cradling young Agatha in his arms like a child, equally afraid of crushing her and of dropping her. This metal vessel was too slow, too different from either of the men who had been his vessels before, and he was still unsure of his control over it. Still, he had shielded himself and her and was flying fast enough that the Wulfenbach forces had not yet been able to target them adequately.
She looked up at him suspiciously. “Now, when you say you’ll ‘keep me safe....’”
“I will protect you while you work,” he replied. “What did you think I meant?”
“Well, it’s just that when people who aren’t Heterodyne vassals say they’ll keep me safe, they usually mean either taking me to the baron or getting me away from the fighting. And I can’t leave, not now.”
“No, no. The situation is not yet so dire as that.”
She brightened a little. “You think so?”
“Your friends still live. From what little I have seen, they are clever and capable, as are you. And now you also have the Winchesters-and me.”
“Yes, what are you? Are you a clank that’s called an angel?”
“I am an angel inhabiting a clank. My true form is many times larger even than this vessel. But I cannot show it to you,” he added before she could ask. “To do so would burn out your eyes, as my true voice could leave you deaf.”
“Oh.” Then the gleam he had come to associate with the Spark crept into her eye. “If that’s so, then....”
“If necessary, I shall attack the baron’s forces that way. But I can do much without revealing myself to such an extent.”
She grinned. “I like you.”
He chuckled sadly, since this face could not smile. “You are in the minority, I fear.”
“Oh? What’s wrong?”
“Many years ago, I... disgraced myself. My brothers have never forgiven me.”
She blinked in surprise a couple of times, then huffed and smiled again. “Welcome to Mechanicsburg.”
He really wished he could smile at that, but perhaps she could feel the way the metal warmed.
“So you know the Winchesters?”
“Yes. It is too long a tale to tell here and now, but I was brought here with them. Gilgamesh designed this clank for me, and Theo and Sleipnir built it.”
“And why were you brought here?”
“We do not know for certain, but the clank that formed the portal bore a Heterodyne badge. We assume that we are to aid you.”
“Are they good men?”
That was a loaded question, and he could hardly answer it adequately. “They fight evil,” he said cautiously. “They are trustworthy and loyal, and they are on your side. More than that, you will have to judge for yourself. But for my own part, I am their friend.”
“They’re... they won’t be... well, interested in me, will they?” That question was somewhat shy. “They are very handsome, but I think they’re much older than I am.”
That clarified what she was really asking. “Their souls are even older than their calendar age. But by that measure, they are both over the age of thirty and have loved and lost more than once. They may look on you as a cousin or sister, possibly even a daughter, but no more than that. Besides,” he added, hoping his amusement showed in his voice, “they know you are spoken for.”
She blushed and demanded, “Keep flying!”
In truth, the remaining distance to the castle was short, and they landed on the roof less than a minute later. He set her on her feet as gently as he was able, then drew his wings forward as a rain shield and located a light in the clank that he could turn on to illuminate the lightning collectors she declared needed quick repair. Not being bound to the clank as to a human vessel, however, he could leave the clank in place and, veiling himself from mortal sight, step out to defend against the assault that was sure to come when the baron’s forces caught up with them.
He was not expecting to find a clear view of something hovering over Agatha’s back. A ghost-no. Not a simple ghost. This female spirit had been half demonic even in life, and not by heritage. This must be the Lucrezia of whom Gilgamesh had spoken and called “The Other.” She was possessing Agatha, fighting for control, trying to pull Agatha away from her task, but not succeeding.
Gadreel raised his sword and was about to sunder the connection between the two when the baron’s forces finally arrived, and then he had a battle of his own to wage. By the time it was over, Agatha was standing up and needed the clank out of her way. So he returned to retract the clank’s wings and suddenly became aware that she had run wires to the clank’s ankles.
“I don’t think you’ll be damaged,” she was saying, “but if you do get melted, I’ll have Theo build you a new clank to live in.”
“Sorry, what?”
But Agatha didn’t answer, just raised the lightning stick and fired it into the air, drawing repeated lightning strikes to the collectors... and occasionally to Gadreel’s clank. He didn’t mind, exactly, but he did wonder about the wisdom of her exposing herself to this much electricity. Not that he could voice those thoughts at present, with the electronic voice box shorting out from the power surge, or that she would have heeded if he had. And when the lightning strikes had finished, she screamed something toward the battlefield-he didn’t catch it, as he was repairing the clank as best he could from within-whereupon the castle’s artificial intelligence began speaking to her again, repaired itself, and powered up the town’s automated defenses, which drove the baron’s forces out handily once Gadreel helped her inside to find a control panel and make calibrations.
And after that, the aerial defense drones called the Torchmen came to bear Agatha triumphantly back to her friends, leaving Gadreel to process what he’d just seen. Some of her little helper clanks swarmed over him, repairing what he had not had the skill to fix. But his attention was on the battlefield as he wondered whether he and the Winchesters had done enough or whether there was yet more for them to do, whether they would even be able to return home... or whether they would want to.
Thus it was that he was still staring out at Castle Wulfenbach ten minutes later when something fell from it and headed toward Mechanicsburg. He had his answer-and knew what he had to do.
Next
Previous | Master Post
Chapter 2
Leap of Faith without a Net
It said something about the severity of Kevin Tran’s post-Branson hangover that when the bunker began to shake, he merely thought, Oh, something blew up and rolled over and went back to sleep. It said something about his relationship with the Winchesters that he didn’t realize anything was amiss when Dean stopped answering his calls for help; he merely assumed the brothers had gone out without telling him. They almost never told him anything, since currently his primary job as prophet was translating a stone tablet that held all the information about angels God wanted humans to have in case of emergency. They cherished the possibly vain hope of finding some way to reverse the spell Metatron had used to cast down the angels. Kevin didn’t even think anything of the fact that when he finally managed to drag himself out of bed for more than the call of nature, the Winchesters had apparently been gone for several days. Sam hadn’t taken his laptop, but if it had been a major emergency, he might not have taken time to pack.
No, Kevin didn’t actually realize anything was wrong until the morning he passed the stairway to the garage and heard Dean’s ringtone... but Dean didn’t answer it.
Frowning, Kevin paused to listen. The ringtone stopped, then started again a moment later and played until it stopped. Yet there were no sounds of Dean working in the garage or otherwise being too occupied to answer. Then Sam’s ringtone went off, and again, there was no answer. Now truly worried, Kevin started up the stairs, only to have his own phone ring.
“Kevin!” Castiel barked when Kevin answered. “Where are Sam and Dean?”
“I-I dunno,” Kevin replied. “Sounds like they left their phones in the garage.”
“You’re sure they left?”
“N-no. I’ve been... sick, but I haven’t seen them for a few days. But I’m on my way to look in the garage. Is there something I can do for you, Castiel?”
“No. I... really need Dean’s help if you can find him.”
Just then, Kevin reached the garage. “Well, the car’s gone,” he reported. “Maybe they left a note with the phones.”
“Perhaps.” But Castiel didn’t sound convinced.
Kevin checked the workbenches and came up empty. “Try calling Dean’s phone again,” he suggested. “That should help me find it.”
“All right.” Castiel hung up.
Kevin listened for Dean’s ringtone and followed it to a corner, where the phone lay on the floor next to Sam’s-which had a shattered screen, as if it had been dropped suddenly. Then he noticed the weird brass thingy lying in front of the phones. Swearing, he snapped a picture and sent it to Castiel.
Dean’s phone stopped ringing, and Kevin’s started a second later. “That’s all you found?” Castiel demanded when Kevin answered.
“Everything. I didn’t touch anything, either.”
Castiel muttered something in Enochian, but Kevin didn’t quite catch it. “All right,” he said then in English. “I’ll deal with the situation here and come to you as quickly as I can. Search that brass device carefully to see what you can learn from it. Do not go near Crowley under any circumstances, is that clear?”
“Crystal.”
“And Kevin?”
“Yes, Castiel?”
Castiel paused before saying gently, “You may call me Cas.”
Sleipnir O’Hara and Theopholous DuMedd stared incredulously at Gil as one of the barmaids at Mamma Gkika’s set food in front of the three of them-and Gadreel, who was eating at Jenka’s insistence. (Well, actually, Jenka had threatened to rip Winchester’s throat out if Gadreel didn’t eat, and when Gadreel had countered that he’d only heal the wound, she’d shot back that he didn’t have the energy to spare and if he passed out and if Winchester woke up before he did, she’d tell Winchester everything. And that, of course, meant that Gil had to tell Sleipnir and Theo everything once Gadreel caved unhappily in the face of Jenka’s apparently correct surmise.)
“I’ve worked out a design for the clank,” Gil concluded, sketching said design quickly on a piece of paper he’d requested from Mamma. “But we’ll have to work fast if we’re going to have any chance of finishing before Agatha gets back to the castle with Dean.”
Jenka tapped his shoulder. “Hyu eatz, too. Or elz.”
Gil gulped and started wolfing down his food, realizing belatedly that he hadn’t eaten since... well, since before the Si Vales Valeo, probably. And that was... how many days ago already? Not that it mattered, ultimately. After all, even if the castle could hold its own, it wouldn’t do for Gil to pass out in the middle of the battle.
Especially in front of Agatha.
Theo took off his pince-nez with a sigh and rubbed the spot between his eyebrows with his other hand. “Gil, if you’re counting on the castle for help-”
Gil shook his head and swallowed hurriedly. “No, the castle’s got bigger problems. We just need to get Gadreel back to the Great Movement Chamber before the castle seals up the shaft Agatha blasted to get down to it.”
“That’s just it. The castle has got bigger problems. Sturmvoraus came by over an hour ago, looking for Agatha. The castle’s used up almost all of its reserve energy-the defenses won’t last much longer. And even with all the other sparks working on it, all the wretched thing will say is, ‘I require a spark.’”
“Blue fire! All right, eat fast. We’ve got even less time than I thought.”
Theo nodded, put his pince-nez back on, and dug in.
“But Gil,” Sleipnir objected, “if Dean’s with Agatha, he may already be in the castle.”
“If he is, she’ll probably have put him straight to work. He’s a spark, too-maybe still breaking through, but it’s there all the same.”
Gadreel looked up in alarm. “What?!”
Gil ignored him. “That’s not the point. The point is, if we don’t have a fully functioning castle... or, well, even if we do, the one thing my father will never expect is a fully functioning angel.”
“We do not yet even know-”
“Look, from what you told me about the properties of your ‘grace,’ the Dyne should charge your capacitors completely without harming Winchester. If all you lack are your wings, the clank will take care of that.”
“And if you are wrong?”
Sleipnir’s spoon clattered into her bowl. “What-but-Gil’s a spark!”
Theo frowned. “You don’t even know what that means, do you, Gadreel?”
Gadreel matched Theo’s frown. “You say that Dean is one. And Gilgamesh did build his flying machine very quickly, but I do not see....”
“The Spark is a gift-a... a kind of preternatural affinity for science and ability to build machines and conduct experiments and the like. Most country folk think it’s magic, but it’s not.”
“Nor is it a guarantee of infallibility.”
“But if the theory is sound enough, we can correct our mistakes quickly, before anyone gets hurt.”
“Well, not seriously hurt, anyway,” Gil amended.
Gadreel opened his mouth to object again, but suddenly his eyes widened. “Oh. The radio in the car. It came on of its own accord-and there was no tape in the tape deck.”
Now it was Gil’s turn to frown. “What does that mean?”
Gadreel turned to him with a slight look of panic. “Never mind. This gift-can it run in families?”
“Uh, yeah. Usually does.”
“And it conveys protections, like the protection against slaver wasps?”
Gil’s frown deepened. “What are you getting at?”
“Something stirs in Sam’s blood. Not-it is nothing I have sensed in him before.”
Swearing, Gil, Sleipnir, and Theo jumped up from the table and dragged Gadreel outside, where it was starting to rain, to Gil’s surprise. Sleipnir ran ahead and snagged a clank that was still in good enough working order to repair on the fly, and that was able to get them more speed, though not nearly as much as Dean’s car (and Gil was so going to have to ask Dean for plans once this was over). Still, even though the clank got them into the castle and to the Great Movement Chamber in less time than it would have taken them to reach the castle causeway on foot, Gadreel was visibly fighting for control by the time they arrived at the headwaters of the Dyne.
“Work fast,” Gil told Theo as they eased Gadreel out of the clank.
“You know it,” Theo replied.
Sleipnir produced a cup from somewhere-Gil wasn’t inclined to ask questions at this point-and quickly filled it from the river near the spring, being careful not to touch the water herself. Gadreel took it from her with a nod of thanks, then sipped carefully... and gasped.
“Gadreel?” Gil prompted.
“It... it is working... oh, Father, forgive me,” Gadreel breathed and downed the rest.
A clatter arose somewhere toward the maintenance shed, but Gil couldn’t supervise. Theo had seen the sketch; he was a good enough engineer to make it work, perhaps even better than Gil himself could. Gil had to keep an eye on Gadreel and pray to a God he wasn’t sure existed that he hadn’t just killed Winchester-especially since there was another Winchester out there with a gun and a distinct aversion to losing his brother.
“Gilgamesh,” Gadreel panted after a moment, “forgive my doubt... and shield your eyes!”
Gil flung himself down and covered his head with his arms, screwing his eyes shut even though he’d pressed his face to the floor. And still he was aware of a blinding light erupting along with a high-pitched whine that made the floor shake and could have shattered glass had it been sustained for more than a second. The light lasted close to a minute before the room was plunged back into its usual level of darkness, lit only by the glowing water from the spring. And Gil lifted his head to see Winchester flat on his back and gasping for breath.
“Gadreel?!” he cried.
“Done,” Gadreel panted. “It is done. Clank... where is....”
“Two minutes!” Theo called, and the clatter burst out again at an even more frenzied pitch.
“We are healed,” Gadreel told Gil. “Only stunned. My... my true form... was required... to absorb... but Sam’s... Sam’s gift... the Spark... it grows stronger... his consciousness... is suppressed, but he will... become aware of me soon....”
“Just hold on,” Gil ordered, putting a hand on Gadreel’s chest. “Theo knows what he’s doing. Surely you can hold out another ninety seconds.”
Gadreel nodded and worked at regaining control of both his breathing and his heart rate, which Gil felt slowing under his hand.
Once it seemed like Gadreel had mostly caught his breath, Gil asked, “Will you need the clank brought over, or-”
“No. It will not be necessary to move either it or us. But it will be bright again.”
“Thanks for the warning.”
“DONE!” Theo and Sleipnir chorused a few moments later.
“EYES!” Gil called back and shielded his own again a split second before Gadreel let go. There was no whine this time, but somehow Gil could sense the angel’s energy flowing overhead for a brief moment before the clank creaked in the way that meant its consciousness had come online.
Gil had just picked himself up when Winchester sat bolt upright with a gasp, blew the air out of his cheeks, and put a hand to his head.
“You all right, Winchester?” Gil asked.
Winchester nodded. “Yeah, head rush. It’ll clear in a minute. How long was I out?”
“A few hours.”
“Where are we?”
“Castle Heterodyne. I couldn’t risk Dupree leading my father to us, so I dosed her and myself and got us back here as fast as I safely could. I-”
“SAM!” came a bellow from above, followed by the rattle of the lift lowering. “Wulfenbach, if you’ve done anything to my brother, I will end you!”
“I’m fine, Dean!” Winchester hollered back as he stood. “Haven’t felt this good since college!”
“I’ll believe that when I see it, Sammy!”
“College,” Sleipnir echoed as the lift reached the floor with a clang. “Is that like uni?”
Winchester cleared his throat in surprise. “Uh, yeah. I went to Stanford University-it... may not exist here yet.”
“And what did you study?”
“Law. I was pre-law.”
Before anyone could ask any more questions, Gil found himself confronted with the need to switch to first names for the Winchesters, as Dean ran up and started checking Sam over. “Sam, what the hell happened?”
Sam batted Dean’s hands away. “Dude, I told you, I’m fine. Got into a fight with a pirate queen who works for the baron, and she gave me a headache, but it’s wearing off.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” answered an electronic voice. “He is whole, Dean.”
Dean frowned and looked around, and then both he and Sam stared at the seven-foot humanoid clank with graceful wings of canvas and brass-not as graceful as the Van Rijn body that had originally housed Otilia, Muse of Protection, but this one had been built to house a more masculine consciousness anyway.
“What the-” both brothers began.
Then Dean’s eyes widened further. “Zeke?!”
Sam did a double-take.
The clank gave a brief squeak of feedback before a more human-sounding voice said, “Ah, there.” It was a male voice, but not Sam’s-perhaps a bit deeper, accented differently, but still with the quiet power and somewhat stilted diction Gil had heard before. “We were not made to be housed in mechanical vessels, but this will serve for now. Sam, Dean, I owe you both an apology. I have kept my word... but I have not told the whole truth.”
“Wait,” said Sam. “You’re an angel. One of our angels.”
“Yes. I was brought here along with you. Do not be angry with Dean-it was my idea to heal you from within.”
“WHAT?!”
“Sammy, there was no other way,” Dean stated.
“What-you-”
“You agreed to live. You agreed to let me save you.”
“But I didn’t agree to that!” Sam exploded, pointing at Gadreel.
“Cas said Zeke was okay!”
“He was,” Gadreel interrupted. “But I am not Ezekiel.”
Dean turned to Gadreel, eyes wide in shock. “You-you’re-”
“I feared you would not accept my help if you knew my true name. The stories about me, they are not true.”
“So what is your true name?”
“Gadreel.”
Dean looked at Sam, who shook his head.
“Castiel would have told you. I was the guard at Eden’s gate when Lucifer... he deceived me,” Gadreel pleaded, falling to one knee. “He swore he came to give Adam and Eve gifts. Had I known his true intent, I would never have let him pass!”
Sam swallowed hard. “You let Lucifer into Eden? The day that....”
“Yes. Believe me, I have paid for that crime a thousand times over. And I have kept my word. Sam, you are healed-from the trials, from Hell, every wound that I could find that did not stem from your own memories. Please... can you ever forgive me?”
Dean turned away, running a hand over his mouth. Then in one swift motion, he turned back, pulled his gun, and shot Gadreel right between his mechanical eyes. Theo, Sleipnir, and Gil all yelped, but apart from the bullet hole, Gadreel didn’t seem to be damaged.
“Don’t you ever lie to me again,” Dean growled, lowering his gun.
The metal around the bullet hole crinkled back into place, leaving only a dent and some slight scarring. Gil suspected Gadreel left that much damage deliberately. But all the angel said was a very quiet, “Thank you, Dean.”
The ensuing silence, tense as it was, allowed Gil to finally register the castle’s voice repeating “I require... a... spark....” But only a few seconds passed before even that was interrupted by a loud boom from somewhere outside.
And seconds after that, a head appeared over the edge of the shaft-pale skin, long maroon hair, pince-nez... Sturmvoraus. “What the-Wulfenbach! Why are you building clanks at a time like this? Get up here! Your father’s sent a battering ram!”
Gil swore, and humans and angel followed him to the lift. “Gadreel said you have an arsenal in your car,” he said to Dean as they ran.
“Yeah,” Dean replied. “What do you need?”
“This ram-it’s like a giant sheep. Shielded against most anything the castle could throw at it if the defenses were online, from electricity to conventional ammunition.”
“Any weaknesses?”
“The eyes, but it keeps its head down unless the rider pulls it back.”
As everyone piled onto the lift platform, Dean shot a questioning look at Sam, who still looked sour and replied, “Don’t think we’re not going to talk about this.”
Dean shook his head once and started the lift. “Dude, you can beat me up as many times as you want tomorrow, but let’s make sure we both live that long.”
Sam huffed. “Fine. Molotov?”
“Now you’re talkin’. Need a glass bottle,” Dean told Gil, “about two-thirds full of kerosene mixed with motor oil, and a strip of fabric that’ll burn easily.”
“What good will that do?” Gil asked as the lift came to a stop.
“Trust us,” the brothers chorused.
Gil sighed and started shouting orders as the group disembarked, then followed Sam and Dean out of the castle to the city square where the car was parked. Dean pulled a key out of his pocket and opened a spacious compartment at the back-for holding luggage, perhaps?-and lifted what appeared to be the bottom, which Sam held open while Dean retrieved a large case from a truly impressive stash of weaponry. Gil didn’t have time to register everything in that compartment before Sam closed it again, and Dean laid the case on the false bottom and opened it to reveal some kind of gun. Then Dean slid off one piece, which was probably a magazine, and checked its ammunition before retrieving another from the case.
“Incendiary rounds?” Sam asked.
“Yeah,” Dean replied and slammed the new magazine into place.
“How do we even-”
“Don’t ask.” Dean slung the gun’s strap over his shoulder, then shut the case and the luggage compartment.
One of the castle’s former prisoners ran up just then with the requested bottle of kerosene and a cleaning rag. “Will these do, Herr Wulfenbach?”
“Perfect,” said Sam, taking them and stuffing one end of the rag into the bottle. “Where’s Agatha?”
“This way,” said Sturmvoraus, who had followed them. As they in turn followed him, he looked at Gil. “So you decided to save yourself after all?”
“I decided to save Winchester,” Gil snapped. “What have I missed?”
“Your father had the Vespiary Squad ship shot down. I saved as many of the wasp eaters and notes as I could, but Dr. Bren is dead.”
Gil swore bitterly. “That must be Lucrezia’s influence.”
“Probably the copy in Anevka, unless Zola managed to survive the attack on the hospital.”
“Not likely, but not impossible.”
“The castle, as you no doubt heard, is dying. Agatha had an idea, but then the ram showed up.”
“Father’s probing the defenses.”
“And he’s about to find their limits. If Agatha can’t get the castle up and running... we’ve got your lightning stick, but....”
“That won’t be much good for much longer. Father will be shielding everything soon, if he hasn’t already.”
“So that’s it. We’re done.”
“Not quite,” said Dean. “We got an ace in the hole and one more up our sleeve.”
“At least,” Sam agreed.
Sturmvoraus looked dubious, and Gil himself had his doubts about the Winchesters’ ability to take down the ram with conventional weaponry. Still, whatever they had planned, Father wouldn’t be expecting it. And he also wouldn’t be expecting Gadreel, who was manually bracing the gate when the team arrived. The ram had just struck again and was on its way back to take another run, so the men ran up to join Agatha, Jäger General Zog, and other defenders on the wall above the gate. Gil started to introduce Sam to Agatha, but neither brother was paying attention; Sam was lighting the dry end of the rag, and Dean was setting the bipod of his gun on the rampart.
“What are they doing?” Agatha asked.
“Er, well,” Gil hedged, not being entirely sure himself.
Then the ram wheeled around to charge the gate again, and Dean put his eye to what Gil belatedly realized was a sighting scope and followed the ram’s progress toward the gate. But before the ram could strike, Sam hurled the bottle with the flaming rag down toward it, and it shattered in a fireball squarely on the back of the ram’s head. The rider startled back, jerking the ram’s head upward-and Dean fired twice in rapid succession, hitting the ram once in each eye. The vitreous humors caught fire, and the ram ran off bellowing in a blind panic as it tried in vain to escape the flames consuming it from without and within. The Jägers roared in approval.
“What was that?” Agatha demanded of Sam. “What did you throw?”
“It’s called a Molotov cocktail,” Sam replied. “They’re mostly used in riots where we come from.”
Gil cleared his throat. “Agatha, may I present Sam Winchester, Dean’s brother. Sam, this is the Lady Heterodyne.”
Sam nodded in acknowledgment. “Ma’am.”
“Mr. Winchester,” Agatha returned.
“We may have stopped the ram,” said Sturmvoraus, brushing his bangs out of his face and pushing his pince-nez up his nose, “but the baron surely knows those were conventional weapons, even if they’re ones he’s never seen before. Whatever he sends next won’t be the sort of thing we can stop with a rifle or a firebomb.”
The Winchesters looked at each other and chorused, “Dragons.”
And sure enough, a red dragon with a purely decorative breastplate bearing the Wulfenbach badge strode up the road, accompanied by a squire on a donkey, and demanded that Mechanicsburg surrender Agatha or be destroyed. Franz Scortchmaw, the Great Dragon of Mechanicsburg, leapt over the walls to fight the Wulfenbach dragon, but that didn’t go very well until Agatha zapped Franz with the lightning stick to recharge his energy. Then the rain began to fall in earnest, and Agatha had just given orders to power up the lightning generators Gil had originally used to power the lightning stick so that she could recharge the castle when a batch of giant clanks claiming to be Knights of Jove turned up to “rescue” Agatha-and Father pulled back the illusion he’d laid over the battlefield, revealing an overwhelming force surrounding the city, far greater than the assault ought to need to crush either the Knights of Jove or the city or both. Gen. Zog noted as much.
Gil’s head suddenly felt light as the enormity of the situation dawned on him. “Me. He wanted to overawe me. If he’d caught me... he’d have tried to use all this as leverage.”
Agatha turned and put a hand on his arm. “Leverage for what?”
“I-I don’t know. But he knows I’d do anything to protect you.” He turned and put both hands on her shoulders. “You’ve got to get the castle recharged now.”
She nodded once, grim-faced. But before she could say anything, a Dreen floated up and demanded that Agatha surrender. Dean tried to shoot it, to no avail. Gen. Zog and Sturmvoraus scooped Agatha up to get her to safety-
-and a burst of white light shot from behind them, vaporizing the Dreen.
“Vot der hay?!” gasped Gen. Zog, setting Agatha back on her feet, as Gadreel settled at the top of the stairs.
“Fear not,” said Gadreel. “I am Gadreel. I am an angel of the Lord.”
Dean turned to him. “You got your wings back, dude?”
“I can at least use the wings of this clank.”
Gil looked at Agatha. “Where’s the lightning stick?”
She held it up and looked up at Gadreel. “I need to get someplace high enough that I can hit the castle with a lightning bolt.”
Gadreel looked at the castle and back at her. “Would the roof suffice?”
“Um. Sure.”
Gadreel turned to Gil. “I shall keep her safe.” And with that, he swept Agatha into his arms, unfurled the clank’s wings, and shot into the air as if he had rocket boosters on his heels.
“Hmph,” said a deep voice from outside the walls. “Show-off.” Everyone turned to see one of the Knights of Jove clanks opening to reveal the driver, a muscle-bound guy in a white suit with a gold waistcoat and sash, a circlet bearing a lightning bolt... and maroon hair. “I didn’t even have time-”
“Tweedle, you idiot, get out of there!” Sturmvoraus hollered.
“Ah,” said Gil. “One of yours?”
Sturmvoraus snorted. “Wish he weren’t. My cousin Martellus von Blitzengaard.”
Von Blitzengaard huffed. “Give it up, Tarvek. You’ve been replaced. I am the newly-ascended Storm King.”
“Over my dead body,” Dean snarled, aiming his rifle at the pretender.
“Stand down, Winchester,” Gil ordered.
“Shut up and jump!” Sturmvoraus called.
Von Blitzengaard was about to object when the whine of an incoming shell prompted him to obey just before his clank exploded. “You’re supposed to be dead!” he groused at Sturmvoraus then.
“Oh, I’ll just bet I am,” Sturmvoraus snarled back.
“I was told you were dead when I was called here!”
“Called? By whom?”
The answer appeared at the bottom of the stairs, where the abbess of the Red Cathedral sat waiting astride a destrier in front of a battalion of clanks she called Bloodstone Paladins, which she declared were sworn to the service of the Storm King. Von Blitzengaard leapt onto the horse she had waiting for him and led the Paladins out the battered gate.
As the Paladins passed, though, the abbess dismounted and turned on Gil, holding him at swordpoint. “Do not commit the folly of believing that girl a true Heterodyne, young Wulfenbach,” she said quietly. “And do not think you have any hope of aiding her against your father. She is nothing but a pawn to aid the ascension of the Storm King-and you are now my hostage to be used against both her and the empire if it becomes necessary.”
Sam shot her.
Humans were so fragile. That was all Gadreel could think as he soared toward the castle roof cradling young Agatha in his arms like a child, equally afraid of crushing her and of dropping her. This metal vessel was too slow, too different from either of the men who had been his vessels before, and he was still unsure of his control over it. Still, he had shielded himself and her and was flying fast enough that the Wulfenbach forces had not yet been able to target them adequately.
She looked up at him suspiciously. “Now, when you say you’ll ‘keep me safe....’”
“I will protect you while you work,” he replied. “What did you think I meant?”
“Well, it’s just that when people who aren’t Heterodyne vassals say they’ll keep me safe, they usually mean either taking me to the baron or getting me away from the fighting. And I can’t leave, not now.”
“No, no. The situation is not yet so dire as that.”
She brightened a little. “You think so?”
“Your friends still live. From what little I have seen, they are clever and capable, as are you. And now you also have the Winchesters-and me.”
“Yes, what are you? Are you a clank that’s called an angel?”
“I am an angel inhabiting a clank. My true form is many times larger even than this vessel. But I cannot show it to you,” he added before she could ask. “To do so would burn out your eyes, as my true voice could leave you deaf.”
“Oh.” Then the gleam he had come to associate with the Spark crept into her eye. “If that’s so, then....”
“If necessary, I shall attack the baron’s forces that way. But I can do much without revealing myself to such an extent.”
She grinned. “I like you.”
He chuckled sadly, since this face could not smile. “You are in the minority, I fear.”
“Oh? What’s wrong?”
“Many years ago, I... disgraced myself. My brothers have never forgiven me.”
She blinked in surprise a couple of times, then huffed and smiled again. “Welcome to Mechanicsburg.”
He really wished he could smile at that, but perhaps she could feel the way the metal warmed.
“So you know the Winchesters?”
“Yes. It is too long a tale to tell here and now, but I was brought here with them. Gilgamesh designed this clank for me, and Theo and Sleipnir built it.”
“And why were you brought here?”
“We do not know for certain, but the clank that formed the portal bore a Heterodyne badge. We assume that we are to aid you.”
“Are they good men?”
That was a loaded question, and he could hardly answer it adequately. “They fight evil,” he said cautiously. “They are trustworthy and loyal, and they are on your side. More than that, you will have to judge for yourself. But for my own part, I am their friend.”
“They’re... they won’t be... well, interested in me, will they?” That question was somewhat shy. “They are very handsome, but I think they’re much older than I am.”
That clarified what she was really asking. “Their souls are even older than their calendar age. But by that measure, they are both over the age of thirty and have loved and lost more than once. They may look on you as a cousin or sister, possibly even a daughter, but no more than that. Besides,” he added, hoping his amusement showed in his voice, “they know you are spoken for.”
She blushed and demanded, “Keep flying!”
In truth, the remaining distance to the castle was short, and they landed on the roof less than a minute later. He set her on her feet as gently as he was able, then drew his wings forward as a rain shield and located a light in the clank that he could turn on to illuminate the lightning collectors she declared needed quick repair. Not being bound to the clank as to a human vessel, however, he could leave the clank in place and, veiling himself from mortal sight, step out to defend against the assault that was sure to come when the baron’s forces caught up with them.
He was not expecting to find a clear view of something hovering over Agatha’s back. A ghost-no. Not a simple ghost. This female spirit had been half demonic even in life, and not by heritage. This must be the Lucrezia of whom Gilgamesh had spoken and called “The Other.” She was possessing Agatha, fighting for control, trying to pull Agatha away from her task, but not succeeding.
Gadreel raised his sword and was about to sunder the connection between the two when the baron’s forces finally arrived, and then he had a battle of his own to wage. By the time it was over, Agatha was standing up and needed the clank out of her way. So he returned to retract the clank’s wings and suddenly became aware that she had run wires to the clank’s ankles.
“I don’t think you’ll be damaged,” she was saying, “but if you do get melted, I’ll have Theo build you a new clank to live in.”
“Sorry, what?”
But Agatha didn’t answer, just raised the lightning stick and fired it into the air, drawing repeated lightning strikes to the collectors... and occasionally to Gadreel’s clank. He didn’t mind, exactly, but he did wonder about the wisdom of her exposing herself to this much electricity. Not that he could voice those thoughts at present, with the electronic voice box shorting out from the power surge, or that she would have heeded if he had. And when the lightning strikes had finished, she screamed something toward the battlefield-he didn’t catch it, as he was repairing the clank as best he could from within-whereupon the castle’s artificial intelligence began speaking to her again, repaired itself, and powered up the town’s automated defenses, which drove the baron’s forces out handily once Gadreel helped her inside to find a control panel and make calibrations.
And after that, the aerial defense drones called the Torchmen came to bear Agatha triumphantly back to her friends, leaving Gadreel to process what he’d just seen. Some of her little helper clanks swarmed over him, repairing what he had not had the skill to fix. But his attention was on the battlefield as he wondered whether he and the Winchesters had done enough or whether there was yet more for them to do, whether they would even be able to return home... or whether they would want to.
Thus it was that he was still staring out at Castle Wulfenbach ten minutes later when something fell from it and headed toward Mechanicsburg. He had his answer-and knew what he had to do.
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