The same thing kept happening. Gil didn't exactly act angry, most of the time, but he didn't talk to Tarvek. He did talk to... to everyone else, and they were all surprised and some of them were cruel and most of them seemed to be more or less won over.

And Tarvek didn't quite know whom to talk to himself, except for Agatha, when everything was upside-down; and it wasn't that he wanted Gil to have a hard time with other people but he was starting to wonder if Gil had only spent time with him because of not thinking he had other options.

It only took a few days for it to wear on Tarvek. They'd nearly always worked together in classes, or sat together in ones where work wasn't done in groups, and now he had to either move or put up with Gil ignoring him. At least Agatha still spoke to him. It was when it came back around to their weekly history class, the same lesson the Baron had called them out of, that Tarvek decided he just couldn't face getting through the whole morning with Gil turned away from him, probably twisting around to exchange words or pass notes with the people behind him. He and Sleipnir had been throwing paper planes across the room the day before, every time the maths teacher's back was turned (they wouldn't have got away with it in one of Otilia's classes). Tarvek sniffed, and curled back up on his bed, Andy snuggled comfortingly against his stomach. Maybe he could just stay like this? Otilia would have the class to teach, she wouldn't come looking for him. Probably no one would mind that much that he wasn't there.

Tarvek shut his eyes for just a bit, then opened them and watched the clock.

The lesson began.

Otilia didn't come.

Nobody came.

The clock ticked quietly along and Tarvek shut his eyes again, counting off seconds. Eventually the churning in his stomach quieted. Nobody was coming to get him. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to be relieved or sorry. (He was supposed to be in class.)

He woke with a start, surprised he'd actually been to sleep but a little relieved because that might mean he'd been tired enough to have an excuse if anyone remarked on his absence. He hadn't ever felt nearly this tired when they were sneaking around, though, even in the night.

The lesson would be nearly over by now. Tarvek was beginning to feel nervous again, and Andy stirred and patted him with a soft trunk. He'd thought things might almost be okay after all, when the Baron had said he could stay. And then maybe again, when Gil said he was glad. Gil wasn't acting like it, though. Tarvek wasn't sure he could blame him.

All the clocks in the school were synchronised. Precisely one minute after the class ended, there was a sharp rap on Tarvek's door, metal on metal, and he gulped and went to open it.

Otilia loomed in the doorway, gazing down at him reproachfully, and then - Tarvek swallowed hard - with sympathy. One cool hand came down to rest on his head, gently. "You cannot allow sorrow to bring your life to a halt," she said. "I expect you to attend class from now on."

I fell asleep, Tarvek thought of saying. I'm sorry. I think I might be ill. He felt ill a lot of the time lately. Unsteady and queasy, and as if his eyes or nose might run. But he knew it was all emotion and not disease. At least, he was pretty sure. And Otilia knew it too. "Yes, Madame Otilia."

Otilia left, and Tarvek rubbed the back of his wrist across his eyes. He wasn't sure he precisely felt better for knowing he wasn't in trouble with her, or for her having cared enough to come and look after all, but it was something. He closed his door again and went back to sit on his bed. It was lunchtime now. He still didn't want to see anyone. He wasn't hungry, anyway.

For several minutes, nothing happened, except that Andy climbed up beside him. Tarvek petted the soft shaggy fur and took a moment to inspect his teeth to see if the tusks needed any attention.

Then there was a bump at his door and a clatter, not like knocking. It sounded like it was being kicked.

"Who's there?" he called, trying to work out why anyone would kick his door. If they wanted to get in they could just open it.

"Me," said Agatha's voice. "My hands are full. Let me in! Please," she added as an afterthought, not sounding any less imperious.

Tarvek slid off the bed and went to open the door. Agatha was the one person he wouldn't mind seeing right now, and he was a bit relieved that she had come, even if she should be having lunch.

Agatha did have lunch, as it turned out. She had his lunch too. Her hands were full of a tray almost too big for her, which probably had contributed to the demand in her voice, and she hurried through the door and set it down with a sigh of relief, then turned to him, hands on her hips. "Were you here all day?"

"All morning," Tarvek corrected defensively. "I fell asleep."

Agatha frowned at him. "You never skip class."

"You don't make a fuss when Gil does it."

"We go find him afterward. And ask what's the matter if we don't know." Agatha sighed and came over as suddenly as she'd come in, to hug him.

Tarvek hugged her back, hard. It helped, even if he wasn't sure she should be looking after him. She was only five. But he'd never thought it strange, really, that she looked after Gil. "Sorry," he muttered.

"I asked Gil to come with me," she said, mostly to his stomach. "He told me if you were hiding it probably meant you didn't want to see people and I said he was glad to see us anyway and he said you'd told him to make more friends and he was doing it."

"I didn't..." Tarvek trailed off and sniffed."That's actually nicer than what I said," he admitted miserably, wondering whether Agatha would be mad at him now too. "But I didn't mean I didn't want to be friends with him. I've been trying to apologise and he won't talk to me and he's forgiven everyone else who said mean things to him."

Agatha huffed but she didn't let go of him. "I don't know what you said, but I'd be very surprised if it was worse."

"I asked if he didn't make friends because he'd just get rid of them when they weren't good enough. I know it's not like that but it felt like that." It still did feel like that, like Gil had suddenly decided things Tarvek had been doing all along, things he'd known about, marked Tarvek as not worth his time.

Agatha let go with one arm and rubbed at the side of her face, somehow a weirdly adult gesture, and after a moment Tarvek thought she'd got it from visiting Lilith and then instead that he'd seen Barry Heterodyne do it, which might make it the most accurate thing in some of the books. "I don't know what Gil's problem is," she said with a sigh. "I mean, I sort of do. I don't think either of us thought about doing anything that would mess up what Baron Wulfenbach and Uncle Barry are trying to do. I didn't think it would be a problem for your father to know but Uncle Barry said it was kind of like telling other people your secrets or Gil's." She patted Tarvek's back. "But it's not like they're even all that mad at you now."

"Your uncle was really nice," he said. Barry Heterodyne had said Gil wanted him to stay even before Gil had said it himself. "You're not mad at me?" Even though that was possibly a stupid question when she was trying to reassure him, and had just said she didn't understand why Gil was mad at him.

"He's always really nice," Agatha said. "And I was a little bit, but not anymore." She looked up at him, golden eyebrows knitting, and added firmly, "And I was still your friend when I was."

"That's more than Gil is, then." He let go of her and smiled, trying to take the sting out of the bitterness behind that comment. "Thanks."

"He's-" Agatha stopped, scowling, as if she'd just realised she couldn't really speak for Gil. "He says he is. He still ought to be. I wish he'd answer questions anymore!"

"...he's being weird with you, too?" asked Tarvek, surprised. Obviously Gil was still talking to Agatha. He'd assumed things were the same for them as they'd always been.

"Kind of. He doesn't act like he doesn't want to talk to me, but there's something funny about it when he does, like he's not exactly comfortable." Agatha sighed. "We should eat lunch."

Tarvek considered saying he wasn't hungry, but now that he wouldn't have to go and eat with everyone else he kind of was. "Thanks for bringing it," he said, instead, going to sit down on the bed again.

"I thought if you didn't come to class you probably wouldn't come out and eat either."

Tarvek ducked his head slightly because, yes, there was no denying Agatha's observational skills there. "I'll come to class this afternoon," he said. Otilia had told him to, anyway.

"Good." Agatha picked at her food a little. "Should I start sitting in the middle?"

Tarvek winced and considered protesting that he didn't need protecting from Gil - and Gil certainly didn't need protecting from him whatever he thought - but it would be less depressing not to sit next to someone determinedly ignoring him. "It might help."

"Maybe I can do that then." After a few more bites, Agatha said, "Maybe I'll write to Uncle Barry. He might know what to do if you're having an argument with somebody who won't tell you what it's about."

"Oh. That could be good." It seems like a strangely specific thing to ask advice about, but Barry Heterodyne had been nice and didn't seem like he'd be offended at being asked. Tarvek took a few bites of his own food and was surprised to find that he felt better for it.

"He's doing a lot of politics lately," she added reflectively. "So it might be more likely."

It was so... accurate and frustrating and ridiculous, that Tarvek laughed for the first time in a week.

Gil was harder to get alone than he used to be. Agatha finally resorted to going up and asking him and Sleipnir and Theo all at once if she could talk to him please when they were done, which made it a little harder to say no.

He followed her to her room when the lab time ended, looking puzzled and a little worried. "What was that all about?"

Agatha turned around and looked up at him. "Why are you acting like you don't want to talk to Tarvek?"

"He can talk to me if he wants to. I'm not stopping him," said Gil, flushing slightly.

"That wasn't the question!"

"What if I don't want to talk to him, then?" said Gil. "I don't have to."

This was true but really not helpful. "I guess you don't, but then why don't you?"

"Why are you the one asking?"

Agatha sighed. "Because he thinks you don't want to talk to him!"

"So he sent you to find out for him?"

"No," Agatha said, "so he gave up trying and skipped class all morning." She didn't like this. If Gil was upset enough to hide it was usually because of someone she didn't mind being mad at.

Gil scowled, and it was a familiar expression, Gil going defensive at someone he didn't really want to fight but couldn't get away from. "Tarvek is not my problem. He's lucky he's even still here!"

Agatha stamped her foot. "So are we! I didn't want him to go, did you?" The last bit sort of slipped out, disbelieving.

"No! That's not what I meant." For a moment Gil looked almost panicked and then he glared at her. "He hasn't changed though. We found out more about stuff, but he knew all along. And you're still too young to understand."

Agatha was a little bit guiltily relieved at the first bit, because she hadn't wanted to think that, but she was frowning at him again almost right away. "I'm not. Uncle Barry explained everything."

"Then what do you think's going to happen? If it even looks like...you know the Baron wanted him kicked off, he'd just do it next time."

Maybe she didn't understand. At least, she didn't think she understood that. "You're not talking to him because you think he's gonna get expelled after all?"

"Not exactly. Probably not." Gil took a deep breath. "Just drop it."

"You're not making sense," Agatha protested. "And you're upsetting my friend but I can't be mad at you properly!"

"I thought I was your friend and now you want to be mad at me?" Gil demanded.

"That's why I can't!"

"You're not acting like you can't!"

"I don't want to be but you're making both possibilities very difficult!"

"You're making it pretty easy to get mad at you!"

Agatha huffed. "It's okay for you to be mad at your friends but not me?"

"It's not like I'm picking sides by being mad at you," said Gil.

"I want you both to be nice to each other!"

"But you're only being nice to him."

"I am not. I talk to you when you let me!"

"I let you talk to me now and you started yelling at me."

Agatha was starting to think she should have written to Uncle Barry first. "If I knew what Tarvek was doing to bother you I'd try to get him to stop."

"I don't want you to do anything about Tarvek. Just leave me alone about him." Gil shoved his hands in his pockets and turned away from her.

"I don't understand why you're taking it more personally than everybody else!" Agatha's shoulders slumped, but she fought down the urge to stamp her foot again. "You're acting like you're more mad at him than Baron Wulfenbach."

"I'm not mad, I'm..." Gil stopped and paced across the room. "We kind of helped him get in trouble, as well as helping him make it. This is safer."

Agatha stared at him. He wasn't acting like he didn't want to talk to her anymore, at least - of course, he could just walk out of her room if he really wanted instead of turning his back, that was why she'd come here - but he was still not making a lot of sense to her. "I think I'm getting more confused every time you try to explain," she said sadly, then added in mild alarm, "Um, that doesn't mean stop, please."

"I really can't explain," said Gil, sounding more frustrated than angry, now. "I probably shouldn't have said that. You won't get it, but..."

"But you think Tarvek would?" But what could he be not supposed to explain?

Gil suddenly slammed his hand into the wall next to her, looming over her. "Don't tell him. He'll be in worse trouble if he does."

Agatha jumped and clenched her fists, but her mind caught up before she could try to punch him in the stomach and she relaxed, a bit shocked at herself for even imagining it. Gil would never actually hurt her, and she wasn't sure why he was acting like he wanted her to think he might. "I wasn't going to tell him," she said, a little insulted. "You know I don't tell your secrets."

Gil stepped back, looking guilty and embarrassed and as if he was a bit confused at having done that himself. "I wasn't sure, when you're worried about him."

"I'm not sure telling him something that doesn't make sense would help even if it wasn't a secret," said Agatha, feeling grumpy. "But I won't tell him you have one, either."

"You can tell him I'm not mad at him," said Gil. "He probably won't believe it from you, either, but it is true."

Agatha sighed. That might be as good as it was going to get. "I believe you. Even if you are confusing." She hugged him. "I'm gonna sit in between you tomorrow, okay? You're both driving me crazy over there."

Gil hugged her back, letting his breath out as if he'd been holding it. "Okay," he said. "Thanks."

Agatha sighed and leaned on him for a little bit. "I miss doing stuff all together," she said. "But I'll tell him you're not mad, anyway."

Gil nodded and then let go. "We should get back," he said.

"Yeah, I guess." Agatha retied her ponytail and followed him out. When she played with her toys that night, Princess Stompy Boots mentioned how glad she was that Mister Quackers and Nosey were such good friends. Maybe a little too loud.

"Gil." Lilith Clay's voice caught him lingering over his notes in the music classroom. Gil had been less in a hurry to get to the free laboratory time lately - even if he was making more friends now, it wasn't really the same as working comfortably with Agatha and Tarvek - but he liked it here anyway. Sure, the students made a lot of mistakes, but with a good piano even the mistakes could be pretty.

He looked up. In his peripheral vision, he saw Agatha (and Tarvek) pause in the doorway on their way out. He glanced at Agatha, avoiding Tarvek's eyes, and waved her on as cheerfully as he could. "Yes, Mistress Clay?"

"You seem to be particularly fond of music." Before he could get up, she came over to his desk. "I've recommended to Madame Otilia and to the Baron that you take one-on-one lessons in practice and composition, and they've agreed. I hope you're interested."

"Thank you," said Gil, surprised at being singled out. "I mean, yes, I'm interested."

Lilith smiled at him warmly. "We're trying to add individual lessons for anyone who's interested. If it's enough, we may need more music teachers. But this should be a good start. Do you have some time now? If not, we can schedule it later."

"Now is good if you have time," Gil said. He didn't have anything specific planned and Lilith was really nice.

"Good. Let's go, then."

"Go?" Gil looked at the classroom instruments in confusion. Where did they need to go?

Lilith chuckled. "Somewhere quieter." It was true that the noise of the rest of the school did come through the walls, and sound went the other way just as well. Gil nodded and followed her out.

The room where she took him did contain a piano. It also contained the Baron, who stood up as they entered, towering. Gil goggled at him, mind going blank in surprise.

"Gilgamesh," said the Baron. "How have you been?"

"Uh," Gil said, trying to collect his wits. This was his father. Really. And he'd said he would make time to see Gil. "Okay." After a few seconds' frantic contemplation, he added, "How are you?"

"I have been fine." The Baron looked as much at a loss as Gil felt. "I'm told you have been making more friends lately."

"Oh. Yes." Gil rubbed the back of his neck. "It... seemed like a good idea." Somehow.

"It's good to know you're getting along better with your classmates."

Gil felt his shoulders slump. He was, but... not with the ones who mattered most. "Yes, sir."

"Klaus," said Lilith, startling Gil a bit. She was always suitably formal when speaking to the students, but of course, she was Judy from the stories - well, the ones that really happened anyway - and they'd been friends for a long time. "Gil." Her voice was kind but very firm. "If the two of you are just going to stand here and make awkward small talk otherwise, I will make you both play the piano."

The Baron caught Gil's incredulous look and surprised him by smiling. "I'm pretty sure she's serious."

"Um... we could do that?" Gil ventured. "Only, I'm sorry, I thought I was coming here for a piano lesson and now I don't know what to say."

"There wasn't much chance to give you advance warning," said the Baron, relaxing slightly. "I should have had a better idea of what to say myself. We can play if you like, music was never precisely my forté, but I think I remember how."

Somehow, that made Gil feel better, and he asked in something of a rush, "Can I hug you again first?" and caught a bizarrely... approving and triumphant little smile from Lilith.

The Baron smiled too. "Come here then."

Gil ran to him, not entirely sure why he was running - for only a few steps, at that - but it felt almost-familiar once he was doing it and he wanted that. The Baron inhaled sharply and caught him up, and that felt right too, confusing as it was. Gil sighed and relaxed for what felt like the first time in a week.

The Baron held Gil against his chest, one hand ruffling Gil's hair and murmured something in a language Gil almost knew - then sighed and added in Romanian, sounding embarrassed in a way he hadn't in the other language but as if he felt it was unfair not to translate, "Love you, little one."

"Oh." Gil felt a rush of embarrassed delight, squirmed a little involuntarily and then tried to hold on harder to make up for it. "...Love you too." He looked up. "Can you teach me Skif - Skifandrian? Again? Um, that didn't sound right."

"Skiff," said Lilith. "You just about had it the first time." A fond smile at both of them. "I'll leave you two alone for now."

"Yes, if you like," said the Baron, still sounding discomfitted. "I doubt you'll have a chance to use it, though."

"If you don't think it's a good idea..." Gil tried not to sound disappointed.

"No, I don't mind. It's just...that neither of us will be returning there." The Baron swallowed and gently put Gil down. "Nonetheless, if you want to learn we can always talk Skiff to each other."

Gil looked down. It probably wasn't rational to hope that relearning the language - surely he'd been able to talk before? - would help him remember anything. He did want to learn, but not if it made his father unhappy. "I'd like to know." He climbed onto the piano bench, looking at the keys a little blankly, and started practicing scales.

In spite of all the lessons and months in between it made him think of Agatha and the music box. He hit a false note and stopped, trying to catch his breath.

The Baron came to sit down beside him, looking down at him with concern. "What's wrong?"

"We were going to-" Gil stopped again. His voice sounded wrong. He had a father, he was seeing him, he still loved him, he was making friends, he was supposed to be happy!

"Who?" The Baron put a hand on his shoulder, letting it rest there.

"We were going to play the piano," Gil said, and then slid over and leaned into the Baron's side. The... his father folded an arm around him and Gil felt him looking down, looking worried. "I... I don't think I'm very good at this," he said after a moment. Then, painfully, "Maybe you shouldn't have told me after all."

"What is it you're not good at? Secrecy? You kept your own secrets from me well enough." There was no blame in his father's voice.

"That was when I wasn't talking to you!"

His father cleared his throat. "You do have a point. I'm sorry if knowing has made things more difficult for you," he said stiffly.

Gil sighed shakily. "I don't mean I don't want to know, not really. But I don't know how to talk to them anymore."

"Are they asking questions about it?"

"Not... exactly." Gil dared a glance upward, then looked at the keys again and started playing, a little randomly, whatever sounded good. "I don't know what to tell Tarvek. I mean, I - I understand the spying generally was a bad thing but if he wants to know about me..." He shrugged awkwardly. "I think he might really mean it to help." A brief silence. "And Agatha wants to know why I'd be more offended than she is when Barry Heterodyne's her uncle."

"Would it help if I set up another fake identity, one you wouldn't mind them believing?"

"Um..." Gil wondered if there was any polite way to say this. "It's not just... I could live with them believing the pig story, but Tarvek thinks it's implausible."

"A more plausible story then?"

At least his father didn't seem offended. "That might help?" He didn't look forward to lying to them, but a lie they had already spotted problems with was even less appealing.

"I'll work on it. It might take a little while to come up with something." His father played a few notes, thoughtfully. "It wasn't my intention for this to come between you and your friends. If Agatha was a little older I'd consider telling her."

But Agatha was five and this was hard enough at eight. Gil echoed the notes on another octave, then shifted each up by a fifth. "Because her uncle knows anyway."

"Yes, mostly." The notes settled into an actual tune, played competently.

Gil listened for a few seconds watching his father's hands, then realised it was a song he knew and joined in. He missed a few notes - he hadn't played it before, and his hands were smaller - but he thought it wasn't bad for a first try. "Mostly?"

"I suppose I hope the alliance will last another generation. There's no reason it shouldn't."

Gil looked up, fingers still moving. "You don't sound very sure about that!" But it was Agatha.

"Her family has not, historically, been very reliable. She is being raised by Barry, and she already has a strong sense of justice. On the other hand she's still five, I can't foresee who she will grow up to become."

Gil frowned. "She's Agatha. She's kind of scary sometimes but she's really nice."

"I didn't intend to malign her. She's just young."

"...So'm I."

His father's playing faltered and then stopped. "True enough. But it's your secret, if anyone has the right to know..." He shook his head. "At this point I really am just concerned that she'd tell people. Nothing worse."

Gil hesitated, then leaned into him again. "Who else does know?" Barry Heterodyne, obviously. Lilith must.

"Barry, Punch and Judy. Castle Heterodyne - which was not my idea. Otilia."

"Oh," said Gil, then, teasing just a little bit, "so you told your best friends."

That got him a startled huff, almost laughter. "When you've known yours for twenty years I won't object to you telling them."

Gil wrinkled his nose up and then grinned. "I was sort of hoping you'd admit it before I was that old."

"I will. When you've finished your education." He started playing again, softer, a more spritely tune, lagging slightly as if he found this one harder or was out of practice.

"Oh. ...Good." That seemed like a very long time away, but it was a specific thing to look forward to, and that was nice. "Why'd he tell Castle Heterodyne, anyway?"

"So he could tell it not to hurt you when you visited. Which was reasonable, but he could have ordered it not to hurt you without that." His father sighed. "I suppose he knows the wretched building better than I do."

"I guess." Gil considered worrying about this and decided he didn't really. He wasn't going to tell anyone, himself, but he couldn't think of any reason Castle Heterodyne would be upset about it.

After a little more playing, in which his father looked as if he was concentrating ferociously on something, but didn't sound like it was particularly on the piece, his father said, "You could tell them a modified version of the truth. Tarvek's family absolutely must not know that you are mine. But a Martian Prince sounds strange enough to be covered up and would have no bearing on Sturmvoraus politics."

Gil blinked, intrigued by this prospect. "I'm not sure they'd believe that either," he said. Tarvek might just conclude that Baron Wulfenbach made up really strange cover stories. "But - oh. Can I tell them Barry Heterodyne does?"

His father's mouth twitched. "I'll even tell him to corroborate it if Agatha asks."

Gil grinned at that. "That should help."

"Yes." His father's fingers stilled on the keys, and his smile faded away leaving him looking almost grey. "It is not without risk. Communication with Skifander is rare and difficult, but we are living proof that it is possible. And there are people there who might even come here to harm you." His hand closed on Gil's shoulder. "It is not something Tarvek would feel duty bound to report to his family, it is something he could use against you in future if he chose to. Or that could cause danger for you if spread too carelessly. It's not so dangerous that I will stop you telling them if you wish, but be aware of what you are trusting them with."

Gil bit his lip. They hadn't taken it very seriously before, but then it had only been wild speculation; he hadn't been trying to tell them that Baron Wulfenbach said it (which might just make Tarvek more curious, if he thought it was another lie) or that Barry Heterodyne believed it. And his father looked so worried about it.

Although Gil really didn't think Tarvek wanted to hurt him. Well... he might now. But he probably didn't want to get him killed. By, um, assassins from Mars. Gil wasn't sure Tarvek would take that possibility very seriously either, actually.

"I'll think about it," he said. "Thank you."

"We can still come up with something else, if you'd rather not risk it." His father smiled slightly again, looking much better for it. "Or if you think this is too hopelessly implausible to solve the problem."

Gil leaned into him a little again. "Well, I believe you."

"Good to know," his father said, smiling down at him.

Gil listened to his father play for a little longer and then murmured, "This is nice."

"It is," his father agreed. "But I'm afraid our time's almost up."

"Oh." Gil swallowed. Maybe he shouldn't have wasted so much of it complaining. But it had... helped, maybe. And it occurred to him that nobody would expect him to have just one music lesson. His father might not come every time, but he might mean to come more than once. "Okay. How d'you say goodbye in Skiff?"

"Akaz," said his father, bending down to ruffle Gil's hair.

Gil stood up on the piano bench to hug him. "Akaz," he repeated.

His father held him close for a moment and sighed, and then left. Lilith came back in and Gil really did have a piano lesson... although she hugged him too, first. Gil wasn't completely sure why but he wasn't complaining.

He went back to the school feeling much calmer and trying not to think about how easy it would be to get through the interstices of the dirigible into his father's office. Even the Jägers might not notice.

Agatha didn't tell Tarvek what Gil had said, of course. Even if she hadn't said she wouldn't, and even if Gil hadn't thought Tarvek could work it out, she knew Tarvek wouldn't be able to resist picking at a mystery. Secrets worked better if nobody thought she had any.

She did tell him, "Gil says he's not mad at you anymore but he doesn't think you'll believe it."

Tarvek looked across the room glumly. "I'd believe it if he acted like he wanted to be around me."

"He says he thinks we should stay apart because we helped you get in trouble."

Tarvek looked incredulous.

Agatha shrugged. "I didn't think that made much sense either."

Agatha still talked to just about everybody; she always did and she didn't see any reason to stop. She was getting worried about Tarvek, though, who had always said keeping up with one's connections was important (she wasn't sure why he thought he needed an excuse to make friends) but now kept withdrawing and, with Gil unavailable, apparently gave up on starting conversations with anybody else either. This just got worse when Gil started having private music lessons, even though a bit later they both did too.

It was a relief when Gil came over to them one day after Lilith took him off for a private music lesson, even if he looked kind of scowly. It wasn't a real scowl, not like when he was mad. More like he was thinking and being stubborn. "I want to tell you something," he said abruptly.

"That's new," said Tarvek.

Gil sat back on his heels and made a face at him. "Well, fine, I can just tell Agatha."

"You can tell both of us," Agatha said quickly. "Tarvek, be nice!"

"Fine," said Tarvek, folding his arms. "I'm listening."

Gil looked doubtful but then sighed. "Okay. I... um... the Baron actually told me who my family was but it's... really weird."

"You stopped talking to me for weeks because your family is weird?" said Tarvek, incredulously.

Gil glowered at him. "He said I actually am a Martian prince, okay?"

"And you believed him?"

"See, this is why I wasn't sure I should say anything," Gil grumbled. "He went travelling to someplace he'd been before with the Heterodyne Boys and missed the whole thing with the Other, and then kind of kidnapped me because people were trying to kill me. He said Barry would back him up about it, too."

Agatha blinked. "Um, do you want me to ask him, then?" It wasn't an unbelievable thing to have happened - Uncle Barry had gone very quiet that one time she asked if she'd ever been to the moon, but he'd said yes - but she wasn't sure why being from Mars should be a big secret.

"He was somewhere else during the Other's attacks," said Tarvek. "But Mars? I'll believe it if Lord Heterodyne says so."

"I don't think he was on Mars," Agatha pointed out. "But I don't think Baron Wulfenbach lies to him either."

"Everyone lies to people," said Tarvek. "About something, anyway. But I don't see why Lord Heterodyne would lie about this, and he could at least tell us he'd been to Mars before."

Gil sat back, folding up with his arms wrapped around his knees. "He said I shouldn't tell people. He said it was dangerous. I kind of thought it was mostly dangerous in case people thought I was crazy but he apparently thinks Mars might send assassins. I can't really see either of you getting in touch with Martian assassins though."

"Assassins from Mars," said Tarvek. "That just sounds like a Heterodyne Boys title. It doesn't sound real."

"I did tell you it sounded weird," Gil said grumpily.

"I won't tell anyone, because it sounds like complete nonsense," said Tarvek. "And you know I won't tell anyone."

Gil glared at him. "You don't believe me. Or you think I'm stupid for believing it."

"I don't know! I'm not about to believe just anything without evidence. And I still don't see why this would stop you talking to me!" said Tarvek, glaring back.

Gil huddled up a little more, looking mulish. "He saved my life and you were spying on him and it didn't sound like you were going to stop."

"Everyone's spying on him," said Tarvek, running a hand back through his hair frustratedly. "That's normal for hostages. All our families are spying on each other, too, you don't have to take it so personally."

"I'm not a hostage," said Gil. "Me spying on him is... it's dishonourable."

"I'm not sure you're exactly a hostage either," Agatha said to Tarvek. "Uncle Barry and Baron Wulfenbach didn't ask for you to be. Your father's supposed to be their ally."

"He offered me officially as a hostage when he proposed the treaty," Tarvek said stiffly.

Agatha shrugged. "Okay, but I'm not sure it counts when you could've just come to be a student like I did."

"It still counts," said Tarvek. "Even though my father suggested it, it's still the same conditions."

Agatha frowned. "What are the conditions, then?"

"Hostages are killed if their parents misbehave," said Tarvek, not sounding more than a little resigned to this.

Agatha looked at him in shock. "But that's awful! That can't be right, Uncle Barry wouldn't do that!"

"How did you think having control of people's children was meant to work?" Tarvek asked.

Agatha opened her mouth, then stopped and shut it and frowned. She didn't know, actually. "I hadn't thought about it that much. I'm going to have to ask Uncle Barry about that too. And I think I should go talk to Baron Wulfenbach." She stood up and brushed off her skirt; she'd been wearing her dresses more since they hadn't had anywhere to go climbing. "Excuse me, please."

"Agatha! You can't just go and tell the Baron you don't think he should have hostages!" said Tarvek, scrambling up as well.

"I know," Agatha said patiently, "I have to ask for permission and I think an appointment."

"That's not what I meant," said Tarvek, but he sounded less agitated about it. "I don't think you can get an appointment to talk to the Baron about political things when you're five."

"I don't see why not," said Agatha. "I'll go and ask Madame Otilia."

"I guess you could do that," said Tarvek, sounding like he didn't expect it to work.

"Of course I can." Agatha felt strange inside, calm and angry at the same time, a bright feeling but not very nice. She went out, leaving the boys talking in quiet uncertain tones, and waited until Otilia turned to her. "Madame Otilia. I need to make an appointment with Baron Wulfenbach, please, and have permission to leave the school to talk to him."

"What did you want to see him about?" Otilia asked.

Agatha frowned. "Tarvek says the conditions on being a hostage are that he'd kill them if their parents misbehave."

"Ah," said Otilia. "I will go and see when he's available."

"Thank you!" Agatha went back to wait with the boys, who had started a game of chess without seeming very enthusiastic, while Otilia stepped out.

A few minutes later she returned and stood over them, looking extra regal. "Baron Wulfenbach will see you."

"Oh good," Agatha said, jumping up.

Tarvek shot her an alarmed and rather stunned look. Gil looked less alarmed, but rather stunned himself.

"Um," said Gil. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Of course I'm sure," said Agatha. "Thank you, Madame Otilia."

Otilia walked her out of the school and all the way to the Baron's study, where she gave Agatha one of her most mysterious smiles and let her in. Baron Wulfenbach sat behind his desk, looking serious. Agatha stopped to look at him for a moment, eyebrows pinching together, and then said, "Thank you for seeing me, Herr Baron," and went around the desk to climb up and sit with him.

The Baron gave her a slightly disconcerted look. "There are other chairs in the room," he told her.

Agatha stopped and frowned at him. "Yes, but this is not that kind of conversation."

"I don't normally have any kind of conversation with people sitting on me," said the Baron. "What kind of conversation is it?"

Agatha sighed. "You don't actually spend very much time with children, do you?"

"Not lately, no," said the Baron. It was his turn to sigh, before scooping her up and depositing her on his lap. "Now, if that satisfies you, perhaps you'd care to tell me what you came to see me about?"

That was better. It was important for him to know she cared no matter what she was asking. Agatha leaned against him. "About the hostage students," she said. "Does it really mean you'd kill them if their parents did something bad?"

The Baron was very quiet for a long moment. "That is technically part of the agreement."

"But it's awful," Agatha said, then bit her lip. He had said technically. Uncle Barry said when you weren't talking about technology a lot of the time people used it to mean there was more to things. "I didn't think it could be right because you and Uncle Barry wouldn't do that."

"A lot of things in politics are awful," said the Baron. "But if their parents believe their children are at risk it stops them invading each other and more people getting killed."

"But..." She kind of wanted to turn her face against his shoulder, but she wasn't sure she did when he was the one being disturbing. She looked up at him again and wrapped one hand around his large thumb. "You wouldn't really...?" He hadn't exactly said either way. And she was sure Uncle Barry wouldn't go along with it but she didn't know Baron Wulfenbach quite as well, except that Uncle Barry cared about him a lot, and she didn't know if she was engaging in wishful thinking or something.

"Well," said the Baron and then stopped, seeming rather at a loss. "No," he admitted. "But if people think we will then they might stop invading each other."

Agatha looked up at him a little bit longer and then relaxed into the arm he'd looped around her. Once she'd got up here he didn't feel like he didn't know what to do with a child sitting on him. "Okay. Good."

"It would be best if you didn't tell the other children," he said.

Agatha hesitated. "Because they'd tell their parents and then they wouldn't be as scared to start fighting?"

"Exactly."

Agatha stopped to think for a minute. If that worked, maybe it was good, but it did bother her. And she did want to ask Uncle Barry about it too. But she didn't have to say right away. Tarvek didn't seem to have expected the Baron to listen to her anyway. But…. "Do people really think Uncle Barry would do that?"

"Possibly they don't think he could stop me doing it. The school was here before he arrived, as you know," said the Baron.

"He signed the treaties too, though." Maybe they thought he didn't think his friend meant it. This could get awfully confusing very fast. And Madame Otilia was closer and she'd certainly never let anyone- Agatha blinked. "Um, did they not notice you put the Muse of Protection in charge of your hostages?"

The Baron shook slightly with suppressed laughter. "I don't think they considered the ramifications."

Agatha giggled, just a little bit, and leaned her head against his ribs. "I guess I should've. But I won't tell."

He stroked her hair absently. "Good girl. Now, you'd better get back to class."

"We were in free time right now," she told him, but she sat up and then slid down to the floor anyway. "But I guess you're busy. Thank you for seeing me right away."

"Otilia seemed to think it was important," he said.

"She's good at that," Agatha agreed.

"You're welcome, in any case."

Agatha smiled at him and left him to whatever adult things he was supposed to be doing. Otilia wasn't outside the door, but the nearest guard returned her smile and of course she knew her way back.