Agatha turned on him. “Oh, do you have something to add?”
Tarvek nodded. “Yup. When you get this place back up and running, I’ll take that room over there. It has a nice view.”
Agatha stared at him and then, to Gil’s astonishment, dissolved into a fit of giggles.
Tarvek saw Gil’s face and companionably slung an arm over his shoulder. “Don’t worry, old man, when the harem gets too crowded you can bunk with me.”
“Tarvek!” Agatha looked shocked. “Don’t be mean.” She leaned in close and whispered to Gil, “I promise, no matter how crowded it gets, you’ll always have your own room.”
Gil blinked, and then grinned. “At least I’ll have someplace to go after Zola topples the empire with her marshmallow gun.” This was possibly the most diverting thing anyone had ever said in the history of the world. Even Violetta joined in the uproarious laughter.
Finally, Agatha raised a hand. “Of course there’ll be no rooms for either of you unless we get this castle working.” She giggled at the thought. “Let’s go.”
“Hee hee,” Tarvek snickered at Gil. “I will totally crush you.”
Gil slapped him on the back, “Ho ho! You just try it, sir!”
Violetta grinned. “Well, you’re all cheerful all of a sudden!”
“Yeah!” Agatha gave a leaping skip. “I feel great!”
Violetta hugged herself in glee. “Me too! I’m having the best time!”
Gil looked like he was about to burst into song. “That’s ’cause this is fun!” He paused, but no invisible orchestra obliged. He shrugged. “I haven’t been adventuring in ages! I feel fantastic!”
Tarvek nodded. “Yes! Me too!” He paused. Tarvek was one of those people who had tolerated the “romance of adventuring” right up until he had discovered hotels that served breakfast in bed. “In fact,” he giggled, “I’m unnaturally happy.”
Violetta chucked him under his chin. “Good for you! It’s not that surprising, you’re just not used to being out of your cage!”
Tarvek stared at Violetta’s hand like it was a snake that had given him a kiss. “Violetta. I’m . . . never this happy. I’m not allowed to be happy.” He looked ahead and saw Agatha and Gil skipping down the corridor hand-in-hand. “And it’s all of us. Why are we all like this?” An idea struck him and he chortled. “Agatha, can I see your map?”
Agatha grinned and handed it over. “Here you go, sweetie!”
Tarvek felt an upwelling of sheer joy and viciously pinched his cheek as he scanned the map. “Focus,” he hissed to himself. Things suddenly dropped into place. “Hey, Wulfenbach! Go check out that smashed wall over there.”
Gil ambled over, chuckling. “Sure! If it’ll make you happy!”
Without warning several huge, green tendrils looped down from the hole in the ceiling, encircled Gil, and then effortlessly hauled him up and out of sight. “Yeek!” He screamed joyfully.
Tarvek did a little dance. “Yes! I was right! Hee hee!”
Agatha whooped with laughter. “Wow! Was that a plant?”
“Ha! Ha! Yes! Nepenthes dulces! It incapacitates prey by inducing feelings of extreme happiness! Smoke Knights use a modified form of its pollen, so at first I thought Zola was sneaking up on us.” Tarvek gave a solid kick to the shattered wall, causing a section to collapse. A much larger room was revealed beyond. “But then I saw on the map that we were near a conservatory. Of course the Heterodynes would have a specimen. The plants must have multiplied like crazy to have so pervasive an effect.”
They stepped through the opening into a riot of greenery. Overhead were the remains of a glass-paneled ceiling, now shattered, allowing light and rain free entry. The results were startlingly impressive. At one time the conservatory had been meticulously laid out. There had once been automatic feeding systems, but they had long ago succumbed to the ruin. Stretches of the beds were choked with brown and rotting bracken, while others had dissolved into evil-smelling swamps. Even so, there were plants in abundance. A few stunted trees, whose seeds had blown in with the wind or been dropped by birds, struggled upward. There were weeds, but the majority of the plants were descendants of the odd and unusual foliage that the Heterodynes had developed or collected on their wanderings. Hundreds of varieties of fungi thrived amidst the decay, many of them phosphorescent in the dim light. Several varieties twitched at their approach, and a few tempting-looking blooms unfolded as they drew near. Prudently, these were avoided.
The crown jewel of this riot of growth loomed in the center of it all. It was a gigantic, fleshy-looking plant, easily towering three meters high. It currently had Gilgamesh secure within its prehensile tendrils. The plant was in the process of dragging him, thrashing, towards a large maw-like blossom that gaped to reveal hundreds of thorns lining its interior.
Gil saw Tarvek and Agatha as they entered. “Sturmvoraus,” he called, still struggling violently. “I’m still happy, but not with you!”
Tarvek nodded. “Or it could be a single, monstrous hybrid with greatly enhanced capabilities—” At the sound of Tarvek’s voice, a cluster of smaller blooms swiveled and released their own clouds of pollen. Tendrils shivered to life and whipped out, ensnaring all three of them. “—that is viable enough to put out cultivars!” Tarvek laughed as he pulled a knife out of his sleeve and attacked the vine holding his other arm. “This just gets better and better,” he shouted joyfully. “Oh, by the way, I’m being sarcastic!”
“I think we’re going to have some trouble rescuing Gil,” Agatha sang out cheerfully. “I’m having trouble rescuing myself! Hee hee!”
By this time Gil had been dragged to the mouth of the central blossom. “Hey guys! Getting rescued would make me really happy! Just sayin’!”
Agatha, still held fast by the vines that wound from her ankles and up her legs, had grabbed several small, crab-like clanks from a stone garden bench. “Hold on! I’ve almost got these old pruning clanks working!”
“Then we’d better tell Wulfenbach not to act so wooden,” said Tarvek, a man who obviously didn’t tell a lot of jokes. Everyone giggled anyway.
“Gil!” A new voice called.
At the sound, everyone froze and looked about frantically. It was Zola, hanging from a rope and dangling about a meter above Gil, who was now completely immobilized. “Omigosh,” she beamed. “I thought you were dead!”
Gil glanced at his waist that was now enveloped by the plant’s maw. The plant seemed to pulse and he slid several centimeters deeper. “Well . . . ”
Zola laughed in delight. “And this time, I get to rescue you! I’m so happy!”
Another peristaltic surge and Gil was buried up to his chest. “Oh dear, it’s really got you.” Zola looked like she was listening to someone behind her shoulder. “Hmm. Auntie Lucrezia says that if I try to pull you out, you’ll get all ripped up on the thorns.” She rolled her eyes. “And they’re poisoned, of course, which is kind of adorable.” Again she listened. “Okay, all you’ve got to do is wait until it’s eaten you all the way.”