Klaus had a new samovar and kept tinkering with it, an impulse Barry was valiantly resisting mostly because if they both got started, they'd probably spend the whole afternoon rebuilding it instead of getting on with the political planning. They'd already spent much of the morning on the design of Otilia's wings. After several minutes he said lightly, "I didn't think it looked that complicated." Although it might be once Klaus got through with it. "Are you enjoying yourself or just procrastinating?"

"I'm nearly done." Klaus allowed it to produce enough hot water for two cups of tea and sat down. "Barry," he said, planting a finger on the map, "are you taking this one or shall I?"

Barry blinked and looked down at the little... nook Klaus had just identified in their borders, almost completely enclosed if you counted their newest grateful ally, and carefully put down his tea. Schallenburg. "Ah," he said. "I'm the one who's been procrastinating."

Schallenburg had been his mother's town.

"We're going to have to talk to them sooner or later," said Klaus.

"I know." Barry rubbed a hand over his face. "And I realise it probably would have been less awkward before we had them essentially surrounded."

"Hmm," said Klaus. "We're not going to threaten them. But if you're going to spend your time telling them they don't have to join up instead of talking them into it then I think I'd better take it."

"I-" Barry started to protest, then gave Klaus a wry look. "Let me think about that one."

"Procrastinating again?" Klaus asked lightly.

"Actually thinking," said Barry. "It's not as if I've balked at talking to anybody else our father fought with."

Klaus nodded. "I'll let you think, then."

Barry picked up his tea again absently and stopped with the cup at his lips. "What would you tell them?"

"The same as we've told every other town," said Klaus. "Or do you mean if I had your history with them?"

Barry shook his head. Rationally he knew there wasn't that much difference between Schallenburg and any other town they'd invited in. For that matter, he'd taken Jägers to defend towns they'd previously raided. And yet... "It was a silly question," he said. "Although actually, if you have any advice..."

Klaus took a sip of his own tea, looking thoughtful. "I don't know. Remember you don't need to apologise for being born." He looked at Barry, eyebrows drawing together in concern, "I really can take it, if you'd rather."

"I know." And Klaus had pinpointed it. With anyone else Barry might regret things his relatives had done to them, but people made war and alliances by turns all the time and his existence didn't specifically depend on most of them. "Bill sent them a letter when he inherited," he said. "It mostly said he didn't make any further claim on their town but they could call on us for defence at need." Basically the same thing they'd said to a lot of towns and villages later. "We didn't really expect them to."

"It didn't occur to you to try and meet them?" said Klaus. "You were their relatives as much as Heterodynes."

"Yes," said Barry, "but we were Heterodynes."

"This is a new situation," said Klaus. "Not an extension of that one."

"It's always an extension," Barry said, then smiled ruefully. "But I wouldn't be urging everybody else to join if I didn't actually think it was a good idea."

"So remember that," said Klaus. "You're not there to hurt anyone."

"No." Barry closed his eyes. He might anyway, although it wasn't as if they needed a reminder that he existed. But - Sparks or not, he seriously doubted the family that had produced his mother was likely to lose their heads entirely and attack him personally or start a war over a civil visit, so the worst plausible outcome was that they'd ask him to leave and maintain a small enclave with neutral diplomatic relations. "And I should have talked to them a long time ago. I'll go." He opened his eyes and smiled wryly. "But I think, this time, without the honour guard."

"That will be for the best all around," Klaus agreed.

Barry wasn't entirely sure if he had managed to leave his honour guard behind or not. He thought the Jägers were a little bit proud of him for having noticed he was being followed the first two times, but if they'd done it again they had beaten him this time. If they could hide from him, they could probably hide from everyone else, and he didn't think the visit would be improved by looking inexplicably skittish. (Actually, attempting to explain would probably be worse.)

He had definitely left the prominently sigiled airship behind and even parked his clank a few kilometres out and finished at a walk. It wasn't as if they didn't know he was coming - he'd sent a letter in advance - but after walking across a good half the continent with Agatha, it wasn't exactly a hardship, and it gave him time to think.

Schallenburg was a pretty town. Obviously not invincible, but not poorly defended either. The Schallens, like the Wulfenbachs, had moved into the area several centuries ago at the behest of a Hungarian king uneasy about raiders from the East; they had only married into the Spark a few generations ago, possibly on purpose, and had evidently not been one of Lucrezia's priority targets, though the walls had been recently reinforced. Very few of the buildings looked like they'd been built before, say, forty-five years ago. The family's symbol was a bell, and its shape appeared as often in actual bells as in carved or cast or painted sigils.

It didn't occur to him until he saw the first shop that they would get tourists, too.

It was nothing like the scale of tourism and memorabilia in Mechanicsburg, but once he knew to look he realised there were small, tasteful displays dotted along the main entry roads. Some were about him and Bill, and here, some were about Lady Agatha Schallen. Heroine-martyr, for killing her husband. The pictures of her were grave and flashing-eyed, and Barry looked at one for several seconds and tried to decide how he felt about that. Still about the same as when she'd done it, really. Shocked and relieved and doubly bereft, guilty in a muddled way and crystal-clear in determination to take the chance to make things better. Much less overwrought though.

The castle was offset from the centre of town and guarded a large bailey to which the entire population of the town could and had retreated in time of need, not that it necessarily did them much good. Barry explained himself to the guards and was shown to a parlour where he waited for approximately thirty seconds before a woman his own height came in. She wore bronze and was crowned with white braids, and in spite of the years she looked strikingly like her sister in the portraits outside. "Lady Schallen," he said, because he was not about to jump into calling her Aunt Gertrude.

"Lord Heterodyne," she said, studying him. "I had been wondering when we'd hear from you. Shall I call you that, or Barry?"

His eyebrows rose slightly. "Whichever best pleases you."

"Most of Europa seems to be on first-name terms with you when you're not present," she said. "It seems only fair that I should be. Won't you sit down?" She gestured him not to an armchair but to join her at a two-person desk, and laid on it first his letter and then - Barry blinked - what appeared to be a copy of an alliance treaty.

"Straight to business, then?"

"So far all your correspondence has been rather utilitarian."

Barry paused for a moment, and they studied each other. He said, "I confess I am torn between thinking I should apologise for not coming sooner, or coming at all."

"Don't do either," she said. Then, "Red fire. I wondered if I'd recognise you, in spite of all the pictures, but I'd have known you anywhere."

Barry blinked, a little taken aback by this, and the fervor in her voice. "I suppose the pictures aren't often very accurate, but..."

"You look just like her."

Oh. "Oh." That was overstating the case a bit, but... true, if not something he'd thought about much. He'd known he had the shape of her nose and the colour of her hair, but at fourteen and younger it hadn't occurred to him to look for the subtleties of facial bone structure, or that his build was more kin to her stockiness than Bill's classic muscles or their father's angularity. "Yes... I suppose I do."

"She'd be so proud of you," said Gertrude, and left him without words or breath to answer. Some moments later she added, "Barry? -The idea can't be that much of a shock."

Barry let out a soft huff of laughter and shook his head. "I try," he said. "We tried. But frankly, we had no idea what to expect of you and rather thought you might all have had enough of Heterodynes." And what would she say if he told her they'd loved their father, too?

"Of being raided, invaded, kidnapped, extorted, or threatened," she said, "yes, certainly. Though you probably noticed we didn't pursue the relationship either."

"We don't intend to threaten you regarding the Empire or alliance," said Barry. "If you choose to remain independent and neutral, you'll be left in peace. But I do believe your participation would benefit all involved."

"I didn't intend to imply you were threatening. Rather the opposite." Gertrude tapped at the papers, making them rustle. "I researched the treaties you'd offered everyone else in the area. I believe I've heard all your inspirational arguments secondhand by now, incidentally, although I'm sure the delivery suffered so you're welcome to make them again if you like. Besides, we've been on cordial terms with the Wulfenbachs since before we left Thuringia." She tapped a finger against her lips. "And I gather you still don't plan to contend with me for the authority to rule Schallen."

"Er," said Barry, feeling a twinge of conversational whiplash. "Why on Earth would I? You were her elder sister, correct?"

Gertrude raised her eyebrows. "And you're her son. Our brother died without issue." She didn't remind him it had been in battle. "A grandson has at least as good a claim as a daughter, but Bill did renounce his."

Barry's confusion cleared, and he fought down a sudden inappropriate urge to laugh and cleared his throat instead. "I'm sorry, we didn't exactly look into Schallenburg's rules of succession. Bill renounced any claim to inherit it from our father by right of conquest; I don't believe it ever crossed his mind that he could be considered to inherit it from our mother. In Mechanicsburg, Agatha-" He broke off when her eyebrows jumped, and floundered for a second. "Bill's daughter, Agatha, precedes me. She'll be the Heterodyne when she comes of age."

"I'd heard his daughter was named Agatha," Gertrude said after a moment. "It was something of a surprise. Is it... awkward, with Mechanicsburgers who knew them?"

"I suspect Bill named her partly to honour our mother and partly to make a point to Mechanicsburg of doing so," Barry said slowly, "but honestly, nobody's really commented. It got a lot more talk when he named his son Klaus, partly because people would bullheadedly take the wrong interpretation in adamant defiance of biology and basic arithmetic," at this point his aunt poorly suppressed a snicker, "although that wasn't Mechanicsburgers, generally." Anybody in Mechanicsburg who couldn't do arithmetic was still likely to take the word of the Heterodyne, the Castle, and the Jägers as definitive.

"Hm. Well," she said, "despite my best efforts I never managed any, so if you have a son with that swordsmith from Jibou he may inherit a town all the same."

Barry eyed her. "I do know you have daughters."

"Then you might know they married out. Farther off than you live. Trust me on this, you're ahead of both them and Agatha here."

He shook his head slightly. "Would you want that? A Heterodyne in Schallenburg after all?" Maybe for the Schallen bloodline, but...

Gertrude studied him for a moment, then said, "I think there is something you need to understand about your mother." She laid her hand over his on the desk and leaned forward, dark eyes full of fire. "Listen to me. She won."

Barry listened.

"My sister gave herself up for us, went through Hell for seventeen years and died for it, but she won. I don't mean killing her husband in the heart of his citadel. She won in you and your brother. She loved you fiercely; it shone in her letters. She may even have loved him a little, though God knows I couldn't. And you loved her back and you listened. It's her blood behind that trilobite now, her blood and her ideals. You are her victory."

It was... something he could imagine his mother saying, though it was probably wiser that she hadn't. It fit her, fit the family she'd come from. And it was a gift, and not one he could have brought himself to ask for. "Thank you," he said quietly. "I can't... exactly be surprised, but I couldn't exactly expect it of you either. It's a good way to think of it." And then found himself adding, "As... oddly as it sits with being more aware lately of being a Heterodyne."

Gertrude cocked an eyebrow at him. "That one seems a little hard to miss."

...Well, that could have gone worse. "I suppose that did sound bizarre." Barry thought briefly of the people who'd spoken of him or Bill inspiring them, or mentioned not quite having meant to confide all they did. It was disconcerting to find himself on the other side of both, even if his aunt was being gracious about it. He still wasn't sure about explaining, but she was waiting attentively for an answer. "In a way we were avoiding Mechanicsburg some of the time," he said at last. "Travelling everywhere, trying to fix other people's towns."

"Mm," said Gertrude. "You did come of such a long line of homebodies on that side."

She said it so drily Barry laughed in spite of the topic. "We could command changes in Mechanicsburg," he said, serious again, "but... that was because of previous Heterodynes, and we didn't try very hard to persuade people who'd loved them that almost everything they'd been doing was wrong." He dropped his eyes to where her hand still rested on his. "Since I got back, I've learned it was... a mistake to imagine the whole town was basically waiting for things to go back to normal."

"I don't think they can," said Gertrude. "I've been there."

Barry blinked. "When? Why?"

"Once to stand up with my sister at her wedding," she said, hand pressing down on his as if she thought it might try to get away. "I managed not to try to feed your father the bouquet. It was autumn crocus." Well. That shed some light on the choice of poison, seventeen years later. "And about twenty years ago when my youngest daughter nearly killed me."

"Ah-"

"When giving birth to her nearly killed me," Gertrude clarified. "It was a bit too urgent for a long trip, and anyway, the Master of Paris always irritated me."

Barry restrained himself from asking what Voltaire had done. "I didn't hear."

"I don't think you were home, and I did use an assumed name. I was fairly confident in the Great Hospital itself, but I wasn't sure about the rest of the town."

"I don't think anyone would have had the nerve to do anything," Barry said, "but I understand the impulse." He hoped the Castle wouldn't have tried anything.

"It was very different," she said. "The whole feel of the town. Perhaps the changes were by command, but the younger generation's grown up with them by now. They expect to see outsiders there as tourists because they're admiring and grateful, not slaves bringing tribute because they're terrified."

Barry hesitated and didn't say it might change back just as fast, with the wrong kind of Heterodyne again. That was his duty, part of it, to teach Agatha better than that. "Part of that is played up for the tourists," he said.

"I know. We do have some of our own. There are worse things for people to spend their time on."

"They do play up the horrors as well. And yet..." They were his, and mostly wanted to be in spite of the changes, as long as he was theirs too. "Now I've told the Castle I need it, and it started trying to introduce me to women who approved of what Bill and I tried to do, and I'm taking Jägers out to rescue towns and defend our allies."

"I heard about Taraclia," said Gertrude, "but I am not sure the casualty reports were plausible."

Barry grinned at that, fierce and proud, the clouded mood from immediately after the battle burnt off like mist. "Then they were probably accurate. It turns out the Jägers are willing to take It's not their fault, don't kill them unless you have to as a challenge."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Unexpected. And that is quite a challenge, against another army."

"You sound like Klaus," Barry observed. "It is. And it wouldn't work on a force they can't overwhelm. But it's a good option to have. And it's broadly what we used to ask of our travel companions."

Gertrude smiled faintly. "Does that mean you and a handful of companions tended to overwhelm people?"

Barry grinned at that. "Regularly. We relied on it, in fact. Though we avoided engaging whole armies if we didn't have to." He added, "It's very different, taking in an army of our own. But it's as necessary now as it would have been counterproductive then. And they're much happier, odd requests or not." He paused, thinking of bat sandwiches. They might prefer the occasional odd request. "I'm still getting used to that. Taking people into battle, asking them to take risks for my principles, who weren't either inspired by what Bill and I were trying to do or dragged in as defeated enemies."

"Ah, what?" Gertrude asked, startled. Barry gave her a puzzled look. She added, "You used to drag defeated enemies into battle with you?"

"Well, we had to keep an eye on them somehow," Barry said reasonably. "Some of them we could trust to behave themselves after we left, but ones who'd been mistreating their own people were-" He broke off and ran a hand back through his hair, grimacing. "Well, Klaus won that argument after a few mistakes. Bill and I were probably too used to Mechanicsburg, where people volunteer for the crazy experiments, and too optimistic for reasons I honestly can't explain-"

"Nobody in Mechanicsburg pretended they were going to do better?" Gertrude suggested, sounding unwillingly fascinated.

"...That probably didn't help," Barry said after a moment. Their father hadn't. They hadn't been naive in the way some people assumed, as if having ideals meant thinking everything was simple, but they'd been young and their experience outside Mechanicsburg had been limited. "Anyway, Klaus didn't think they should be left in charge whether they sincerely meant to change or not, and he was right. And there were others we thought might change, might learn better, but we couldn't trust them unwatched. So we took them with us."

"How did that generally go?" Gertrude sounded outright intrigued now. "Everyone knew a lot of different people travelled with you for a time, but it never occurred to me any of them weren't along altogether voluntarily."

"That's because it usually went fairly well. There were some exceptions, but most of them eventually found someplace new to settle down, where they could work and their neighbours could cope with them." He rested his chin in one hand. "Currently Klaus is settling them himself - and not necessarily just the ones we'd have been able to take along before. The Duke of Taraclia is more or less a prisoner, but I'm not altogether sure he remembers that. Klaus gave him a lab, with minions strictly enjoined not to put up with being appropriated as experimental subjects. I'm not sure most Sparks really care about ruling more than a lab."

"An interesting solution," said Gertrude. "Not one that would work on Heterodynes."

Barry snorted. "No more than Valois's court. Then again, he's not trying that one with Sparks whose towns actually want them back."

Gertrude looked thoughtful. "If he's supplying laboratories to prisoners, maybe he should do as Valois did and offer them to Sparks who come voluntarily. Particularly ones whose homes don't want any Sparks at all."

"A refuge," Barry said. Sparks caused enough trouble accidentally as well as on purpose that in many towns and villages, the first hazard was breakthrough and the second was panicked or enraged neighbours, even if the nascent Spark hadn't actually done any harm. If they could offer safety, training, and resources to Sparks with the sense to flee that kind of situation...

"With your word behind it, they'd believe it is a refuge," said Gertrude. "Otherwise those of us who offer are generally suspected of seeking lesser Sparks as experimental subjects."

Barry laughed. "You do know little fascinates Klaus more than trying to figure out how the Spark works? Bill and I used to let him stick electrodes to us, when we were working somewhere he could actually take readings." He could remember Klaus muttering under his breath about harmonics and then almost invariably getting drawn in to revise their project. "Well... not that he couldn't be distracted from it. But I suppose I can vouch that it doesn't hurt."

Gertrude snorted. "If he wants to observe, I think they'll cope."

"It's a good idea. I'll bring it up to him when I get back and see how soon we can get it set up." Barry grinned at her suddenly and tapped the treaty draft she'd laid on the desk. "Is this purely reference material, or should I tell him you want to help?"

"I think we have more to discuss before I commit to anything specific," Gertrude said, amused. "Unless you want to accept my terms sight unseen."

She was proposing them, then. "I won't be quite that precipitous," he said, picking up the treaty to browse through. Gertrude watched him in silence until he finished, and flipped back to a previous page. "No Jägers?" he asked mildly.

She sighed, watching him. "You can see why."

"Yes. And I can't exactly blame you. But they are rather thoroughly integrated into the allied forces by now... and if, heaven forbid, you ever have trouble with wasps, I'd have to insist." Even if there was no agreement, he couldn't stand by for that. "They can't be infected."

Gertrude's eyebrows went up and her lips tightened. "I concede the point," she said after a moment, then more reluctantly, "And I have been reconsidering."

"I'm not proposing to have them turn up on social visits," Barry said. "Which I will make clear. I admit I didn't anticipate their turning up in Jibou, even on their best behaviour. Especially since I haven't made it there yet," he finished a little sheepishly.

"I believe even for Heterodynes it might be customary to visit your own girlfriend," Gertrude said, straight-faced. Her voice went a little dry as she added, "I suppose sending proxies isn't unusual either but it may be less friendly. Ah, what is their best behaviour?"

"No attacks, obviously; no deliberate intimidation-" Klaus insisted that their approach to putting people at their ease was the same as Barry's, and found it hilarious. "Treat people as their own shopkeeper relatives would want to be treated. Apparently they're good customers when they're actually paying for things." Buy instead of stealing, leave tips, pay for damages. (Not breaking things might be preferable, but Mechanicsburg heirlooms tended to be sturdy.)

"Yes, I imagine that would help." Gertrude shook her head slightly. "They have... shopkeeper relatives."

"It's not as if families who produce Jägers all just die out afterward," said Barry. "And a lot of Mechanicsburg is shops now. As I believe you noticed. Not that there isn't any shoplifting," and there was some pickpocketing and outright mugging, here and there, but he was doing his best to discourage that and it was a problem in any city. "But it's mostly kids, in which case their parents usually recompense the shopkeeper eventually."

He could remember their parents arguing about that, still. Their mother had found out he and Bill were participating and, unusually, taken it to their father first.

"I thought this was something even you would object to. Preying on your own people!"

"It's hardly preying, Agatha. Just children having a good time, getting some practice in."

"Practice. Indeed." Their mother had always been very firm on the idea that habits, practice, made future behaviour and shaped your character, and Barry had shifted uncomfortably. "And that makes up for the financial losses when somebody's trying to make a living?"

Barry had been listening at the door - the Castle could have ratted him out but wasn't bothering - and hadn't been able to see it but was fairly sure his father had rolled his eyes. "You don't understand Mechanicsburg. Their parents will usually make it up. And who d'you think pays if the shopkeeper can't catch anybody? They assume it's my boys because they're too good to get caught, and take it to Carson. No harm done to anybody who matters. Now don't fuss at them over it. Everything here is theirs anyway and they'll learn their responsibilities to the town in spite of you yet, so don't pretend that's what you're worried about."

Barry had slipped away at that point to tell Bill about the quarrel. They hadn't gone thieving again. Well, sort of. It had been too much fun to give up but they'd made a game of sneaking payment in for whatever they took. Their father had eventually caught them out and suspected their mother's involvement, but Bill had sworn she hadn't said anything to them about it (technically true) and boldly argued their responsibility to the town. In the end he'd just covered his eyes and let them go, and they'd heard him laughing afterward.

"Mechanicsburg is still an odd place," Gertrude muttered. "But if they'll be... forbearing, more so than I've ever asked of an army, out of obedience, if not on principle..."

"That is the principle," Barry said. "They swore to the House of Heterodyne. And I am... finally," he added a little wryly, "treating them as a Heterodyne is expected to treat Jägers. Asking them to do weird things probably falls under that heading. Asking them to use their increased abilities to accomplish what I want definitely does - I'm not telling them to die to protect the opposing army, and I can fix almost anything else and they know it. They chose to take nine in ten chances of death to get this, for love of their Heterodynes and love of battle, and they stayed loyal even when we wouldn't let them fight." Well, except for Vole. "I'm not asking you to make friends with them. But you should probably know that they're making a lot of things possible militarily that wouldn't be otherwise, and some of that - a lot of that - is saving lives."

"They're old-fashioned," said Gertrude.

"Well, yes," Barry said. "They're old."

Gertrude laughed softly. "Indeed. And they are yours, and an obligation to treat the rest of the world right doesn't remove your obligation to your own." If she hadn't won him over before, Barry thought, she would have then. And there was a time he would have resented hearing it, but it might have done him good anyway. "Your Heterodyne ancestors were fearsome as much because of their virtues as their cruelty," she added pensively. "History is full of the creatively vicious. But the Heterodynes did take care of their own, which is more than many people manage - many Sparks especially - and that was the source of much of their strength."

"I've been learning that," said Barry. And there were other ways to look after your town and cultivate that reciprocal strength than raiding people. "And Mechanicsburg... looks after itself and its Heterodynes both. Expectations matter. Mechanicsburg's people don't expect Heterodynes to be restrained by a lot, but they do expect to be able to cope with us. At wildly varied levels of competence, at that. Habits matter," he added reflectively, thinking of his mother's insistence again. "That's part of Klaus's efforts to make breakthrough safer, when the students at his school start going through it."

"The idea of using Mechanicsburg as a model for safer breakthroughs is perhaps a little worrying."

"We're hoping for a better success rate than that, actually," Barry said wryly. "Since a fair number of Heterodynes did themselves in at one point or another. And more politic solutions than clapping unruly children in a cage."

"-I should hope so!"

Barry decided to let that one lie. "Donna's family seems to have a pretty good survival rate, so he's looking at their practices too. The main idea is to teach them in advance that being a Spark doesn't have to mean being entirely out of control or acting like the daftest Sparks in stories. That it doesn't mean you have to mistreat people. And to be supportive with useful labs and appropriate safety measures, of course."

"Which don't involve cages," said Gertrude.

"Not ideally."

"It's a good plan, and mostly what we've tried to do here. What Agatha tried to do with the two of you, though more for life than for breakthrough, and evidently succeeded." She looked at him, soft-eyed. "She did know she wasn't making it easy on you."

"It's worth it," Barry said quietly.

"You said thinking of yourself as her victory sat oddly with being aware you are a Heterodyne," Gertrude said slowly. "I think, instead, her victory would be less if you were not." She sat back and pulled the treaty to herself, from under his hand. "So. We will rewrite this together, and Schallenburg will ally with the Empire, and the House of Heterodyne will provide a Schallen heir." A smile. "And on that note, one more thing."

Barry arched an eyebrow. "What's that?"

"Barry." She patted the back of his hand. "Visit your girlfriend."

Barry entered Jibou on foot as well, with some idea of not making a scene, only to have a twelve-year-old boy with features like Donna's look him up and down appraisingly before he could ask directions and ask, "Are you Barry Heterodyne?"

"Yes, I am. And you are?"

A grin split the boy's face. "Yves DuLac. Lance's son. You're looking for Aunt Donna. We wondered when you'd get here - it's all been Jägers so far."

"Sorry," Barry said, trying not to laugh. "I've been ridiculously busy, but I'm here now."

"I'll show you where she works! C'mon."

By the time they reached Donna's forge, Barry was being led and followed by an entire procession of children and a few otherwise unoccupied adults. They all stopped dutifully outside the door, however, because as Yves explained, Aunt Donna was very strict about kids not coming in where they could get hurt. "But I expect you'll be okay," he added. "You go in more dangerous places all the time, don't you?"

"More hostile, certainly," Barry said, and went in.

The principle was sound, but he wasn't sure how anybody would have managed to get hurt at the moment, he wasn't sure, because Donna was not at the forge itself but at her desk, with several pages of Adam's handwriting displayed around her on clank-arms and a page of equations in front of her. She was absorbed enough that not only had she missed the crowd walking him to her door, but he managed to shut the door and come right up beside her before murmuring, "You did get the message that I was coming, didn't you?"

Donna jumped and then pushed back her chair and looked up at him, beaming. "Yes, but I didn't see the point in walking the floor while I waited." She got up to kiss him, and they stood in each other's arms for a moment. "It's good to see you."

"It's good to see you too. Finally," he added with a rueful smile. "I'm sorry it took me so long to take you up on the invitation. How busy are you lately?"

Donna looked quizzically at him. "I have a couple more commissions from Jägers. Why?"

"I'm spending a lot of my time lately on diplomatic visits and was wondering if you'd consider taking some time away to join me on some. They're generally prepared to accommodate a companion, it's usually enjoyable even if Klaus finds it maddening, and it would give you a better idea what we'd be dealing with outside Mechanicsburg if we keep carrying on this way." He smiled at her. "As few or as many as you like."

"That... could be very nice," Donna said thoughtfully. "And very instructive. I'm honoured and I'll look forward to it."

Perfect. "Meanwhile, should I assume offering to take you out for a nice dinner in private tonight is a lost cause?"

"You must be joking. Dinner will be at my grandfather's house. Everyone will be there. Well, not literally, but close enough."

"Quite a lot of everyone is outside," Barry said, amused, "or at least they were a minute ago. I think I caught most of their names. And do I owe you an apology for suggesting you weren't serious about your brother being Lancelot?"

Donna quivered with laughter. "I didn't quite believe you about the Vermin Fair, so call it even."

"Your parents must be quite fond of Arthurian tales."

"They also can't resist a pun, and when they named us there weren't any Heterodyne Boys stories yet," she said, picking her head up off his shoulder. "Thank goodness. Who knows what they'd have called me a few years later. Although I should note that despite my involvement with swords, Lance and Ruxandra are very happy together, so we're fairly sure they aren't prophetic."

"Just as well. We already have Muses, and I'm not entirely sure how much they even like being prophetic sometimes." He stepped back from her just a little, hands on her shoulders. "On which note, I have a project for you, if you'll take it. Otilia wants to be able to fly."

Donna went still. "Oh my."

"Yes. Here, do you want to see our notes so far?"

"Of course. Here, let me make space." The letter-reader folded expeditiously out of the way and took her equations with it. "I assume you've talked to Adam already."

"You'll probably be getting another letter from him about it before long," Barry said, pulling a second chair over to her desk.

"Brilliant. I'm enjoying our correspondence, even if it leaves me feeling a little overspecialised." She shook her head. "I may be able to do unlikelier things with metal, but he keeps referring to developments in the biosciences I haven't even heard of."

"There's nothing wrong with focus," said Barry. "He and Lilith do make a point of keeping up with the scientific literature, and they were living in Beetleburg until recently, which probably helped. I'm still catching up myself."

"I have not been quite as busy as you for the past few years," Donna said drily. "On the other hand, I like being focussed."

She spread out the designs and speculation he handed her, and the matter of wings lasted them until her parents - Viorel and Loredana - turned up to remind them the dinner hour was approaching in time for them both to get cleaned up.

Dinner was good, the food as eclectic as the family supplying it, and the conversation lively and frequently interrogative. Barry didn't exactly charm everybody so much as most of them turned up charmed by default, although Donna's "old warlord" great-grandfather embarrassed everyone a bit by congratulating Barry on his political and personal conquests. Aside from that, the only really awkward moment was when Donna's Aunt Cerise - Viorel's eldest sister - gushed that she was so very happy for Donna and had been afraid she'd wasted too much of her life already.

"I'm ten years older than she is," Barry said mildly, while Donna evidently identified alarm bells in his tone and tried to kick him under the table. "I'm afraid to ask what you think I've been doing with mine."

"Oh! I mean - that's hardly -"

"She's developed her skills enough to be helping modify one of the Muses, at Otilia's own request," Barry pointed out, then decided it was ungracious to leave Cerise spluttering and added, "Anyway, if she'd been in any more of a hurry I'd be out of luck here, so I'm hardly going to complain."

Donna ducked her head, smiling, and stopped trying to kick him.

"She's always like that," Donna told him later, when they'd settled on a sofa in her parlour and her adult relatives had supposedly rounded up all the attempted eavesdroppers among their offspring. "It's not that much of a bother..." She trailed off, then put her head on his shoulder. "But the defence was nice anyway. At least the last part."

Barry snorted and kissed the top of her head. "I don't plan to snipe at your relatives on a regular basis. But I hardly think you've been wasting your time."

"Neither do I. You didn't mind the horde of adoring fans, did you?"

A brief pause. "Would it sound egotistical if I said I'm used to it?"

Donna buried her face in her hands, laughing. "Somehow, not from you. I guess you would be." She snuggled in again. "I suppose you could tell I was starstruck when we met. I really have been hearing stories about you literally as long as I remember."

"Not too starstruck to distinguish between hearing the stories and getting to know me," Barry said. "Which I was a little worried about when the Castle started aiming tourists at me."

"You make us sound like some strange form of weapon," Donna said in amusement. "I think the Castle's involvement made it hard to miss that there was a difference."

"I can see that." He gave her a wry look. "You handle its 'involvement' well. That was always something I assumed would be, ah, difficult about bringing anyone home. Stories are one thing, getting to know each other something different, but courting someone with the idea of eventually asking her to live with Mechanicsburg and Castle Heterodyne? You've met it being cooperative."

"Mmm. I've taken shameless advantage of its interest in getting you married off, is what I've done," said Donna. "Although I have to confess... I really thought at first that it was trying to set up a one-night stand. And I only expected a chance to say hello!"

"It wouldn't have minded setting me up on one-night stands either," Barry admitted. "But I think it would prefer a more stable relationship." Castle Heterodyne would also be delighted if he started collecting concubines, as long as it could keep an eye on them, but he wasn't going that far to reassure it.

"So do I." Donna smiled. "Although I admit, one night would've been better than nothing."

"I'm flattered." Barry tilted his cheek against her head. "And this is better." He stayed there for a moment, pensive, and then said, "I took your advice."

"I assume you mean about something besides the squid, but I have no idea what you're talking about."

He chuckled. "I went to visit my mother's family. Well... my Aunt Gertrude, she's the only one living there now. Admittedly not until it had become politically necessary."

"Still good. I hope. How did it go?"

Barry breathed out into her hair. "Remarkably well. Not completely surprising... her sister taught us to be careful of holding grudges, but it's still..."

"Hard to assume," Donna offered.

"Yes." He closed his eyes for a moment. "I'm glad you're getting along with the Castle and the Jägers," he said. "I'm glad I'm getting along with them better myself. But... it would be nice to have one other person in Mechanicsburg who knew what my father did to my mother wasn't right." And that was a difficult thing to ask for, too.

After a little silence, Donna said, "I don't think everything you do is right just because of who you are. I admire you because you try to do everything right."

Barry sighed and pulled her closer. "And that's part of why I love you."