Klaus strode through the corridors with a deep sense of belated foreboding. Three of the teachers including Otilia had all sent him alarmed messages at once and he could see from here that the entire population of the school had jammed into the laboratory where he'd been trying to keep the child-Sparks' work confined.

He made it inside largely because he'd built the place with sliding doors rather than ones that opened inward. The room was filled with a nearly choking odor of raspberries and brine, and Gil was standing over his vat with, oddly, Martellus von Blitzengaard, engaged in an animated discussion about brain structure. Several other students were peering over or around them until Martellus muttered loudly that they should have shackled everyone to the walls, at which point the press receded slightly and got more in Klaus's way. They were, at least, both wearing insulated boots.

Klaus forced his way between children as gently as possible until he reached Tarvek, who was balancing on the shade of a hanging lamp and frowning over the proceedings. "You look concerned," he remarked. Actually the boy looked poised to leap toward the experiment in progress. "What brought this on?"

Tarvek looked down at him. "Well," he said, "Gil went to check on his lobster during the study period and came back to demand Tweedle come help with the speech centres. I told him he should go, and then everybody came to see what's going on."

"The lobster has speech centres?" Klaus asked, wondering exactly how he'd missed that development. He'd been busy, yes, but - Gil was making a talking lobster?

Tarvek shrugged. "He says he's making a friend."

"Any particular reason he wants to be friends with a lobster?"

Tarvek looked slightly pained. "I have no id-" He was interrupted by a loud bang as Gil slammed the vat shut and darted for the switch. "Oh, no!"

Klaus reached up and snatched Tarvek down from the lamp before he could actually jump in to... help, or un-throw the switch, or whatever he had in mind. He set Tarvek on the floor behind him and pushed forward as the charge built. Electrical discharges crackled around the circuitry, actinic light flaring until the room lights seemed dim.

He had almost reached Gil when the vat exploded. He grabbed his son and pulled him back and down, curling around him. The self-deploying blast shields deployed, slamming into place in time to break the shockwave and most of the shrapnel, but a fountain of fishy-smelling raspberry jam splashed over them, showering the room in red.

Gil wiggled free and ran forward to push the blast shields aside; he slipped in the muck and ended up nearly as covered in it as the creature floundering at its centre. He grabbed it by the hands - no, claws - and helped it up. "Hi!"

"Hiiii?" It blinked one large eye up at him and stood, swaying. It looked around. It said, "Owutmess."

Gil blinked and looked at Martellus.

Martellus wiped raspberry jam off his face. "You had to wake him up right as soon as we were done, it's going to take a while before he's any more intelligible than that."

Gil turned his attention back to his new construct. "Your name is Zoing," he said.

Zoing hugged him. Klaus wasn't sure how well this sentiment would hold up to the realisation of how ridiculous the name was, but he supposed it was a good start. And he'd fallen wildly in love with a woman who insisted on calling him Chump, so he really had very little room to talk.

"Well, I guess he does like you," Tarvek said. He was surprisingly unsplotched and was picking his way more carefully through the puddles.

"I think so," Gil said happily, swinging the former lobster around to meet the Storm King. "Zoing, this is Tarvek. He's nice, you'll like him."

Zoing went in for another hug. Tarvek said "Ack," possibly more at being covered with raspberry jam than at being embraced by a lobster, but hugged him back.

Klaus stood, and Zoing let go of Tarvek in a hurry and backed up. "Heep!"

"It's okay!" Gil grabbed at Zoing, whose antennae managed to look distinctly skeptical. "That's my father. He's nice too."

"Er. Hello, Zoing," Klaus said and held out a hand, feeling ridiculous and wondering how you went about reassuring lobsters anyway.

Zoing inched forward (Gil beamed proudly at him), antennae twitching and tail trying to press into the floor or curl under him, and tentatively put a claw in Klaus's hand. "Hidad."

Klaus wondered when, precisely, he'd adopted a lobster. "Pleased to meet you," he said.

"Pleestoomeechu," Zoing echoed. At least he was a polite lobster.

Tarvek cleared his throat, obviously trying desperately not to laugh. "I'm really impressed, Gil, but do you think you could introduce him to a bath next? This is... very... sticky."

"Okay," Gil said amiably, then looked thoughtfully at Zoing and then up at Klaus. "I think salt water might be better...?"

"You can put salt in the bath if it will help, but I agree that a bath is called for," said Klaus. He looked around at the sticky audience. "And not just for him."

"Indeed," said Otilia, who looked rather less amused by the situation than Adam or Lilith, and might need new feathers again. She started herding the students out.

Adam finally released a very squirmy Agatha to race over and meet Zoing, whose antennae went straight up in shock at her precipitous approach. He then declared her "Prettygurl" and tried to pick her up and carry her with him as they walked out of the lab, much to both her consternation and Gil's.

Klaus paused by Adam and Lilith. Zoing seemed uninclined to rampage, so the children could probably sort out his attempt to make off with Agatha themselves. "Well," he said. "That could have gone worse."

"You've been working on the blast shields again," said Lilith.

"With those three breaking through of course I have," said Klaus.

"They're very good. And Zoing seems nice."

"Yes." Klaus frowned. "Did you know Gil was making an intelligent lobster?"

Lilith blinked. "Didn't you? I thought you were tracking his work. And that he'd have told you about it even if you weren't."

"I've been busy," said Klaus. Although he shouldn't have been too busy to keep track of Gil.

They both gave him a look. "Klaus..."

"It's not as if I haven't been talking to him," said Klaus, defensively. There had been a few Skiff lessons, and he'd talked about Gil's work with him back when they were working on the dragon. When it felt like he wasn't trying to do something with the Storm King-to-be and juggle half the Fifty Families besides.

"I know," Lilith said gently, "and I do realise you're busy, but you might want to do it a little more often." Then, teasing, "Of course, now you apparently need to make time to talk to Zoing as well."

Klaus gave her a very dry look.

"Moxana would like to see you privately," Otilia told Tarvek, "now that you're a little calmer. I told her about some of your work."

He'd been in and out of the separate lab where the Baron had put them a lot - it smelled much better now that Zoing was finished - but it was a shock to realise he'd barely talked to Moxana since announcing he was the Storm King. "Of course," Tarvek said. "Now?"

She gestured toward Moxana's room - she had one in the school, since she was technically visiting Otilia and sort of a teacher - and Tarvek knocked at the half-open door and waited for a soft chime from inside before going in and shutting it behind him.

Moxana's room was uniquely hers, tiny and elegant with bars in strategic locations that she could grasp to pull herself about, as for some reason Van Rijn had built her chair's wheels with no way for her to propel them. She was waiting next to the smaller guest chair - child-sized rather than large and sturdy enough for Otilia - and gestured Tarvek to seat himself.

He did, clasping his hands in his lap and looking at her curiously. "Sorry I didn't come and see you sooner," he said, although she could have asked for him if she'd wanted him.

Moxana reached over to pat his shoulder, her eyes looking kind even if she couldn't smile at him. She shuffled her deck without looking - it was fatter than usual, and he was a little puzzled until she laid out a hand and he realised she'd mixed in a regular one with the Tarot. Three Muses and all four Sparks, all the kings and queens from both decks and on top of them all the Emperor.

"Four?" Him and Gil and Agatha, unless he couldn't be one of the Sparks and the Emperor, but who else? Oh, maybe, if one wasn't him... "Gil, Agatha, Barry Heterodyne and the Baron?"

Moxana paused, nodded with her head a little to one side, and then swept the entire two decks out across her board, somehow putting them all in order as she did, and dropped the Emperor on top of them. Tarvek was still hesitating over that one when she rested a book on top of them and drove all interpretation straight out of his head.

"That's..." He reached out for the RvR embossed cover reverently, touching it with the tips of his fingers. "Van Rijn's notes?" His voice squeaked slightly.

She nodded. And held it out to him.

He took it and clutched it to him, trembling slightly with excitement. It was really his, he could figure out how to build his Muse-clank properly now, he could... "I'll learn from it, I'll find your sisters...one day...I'll fix all of you, I swear." He didn't think he could promise her anything good enough to match what he'd just been given.

Moxana leaned forward - she didn't do that often - and touched her fingertips to his lips before cupping his cheek in an unexpectedly warm palm, from the rapid motion he supposed. She pulled back and laid her hands together in front of her face, as if in fealty or prayer, eyes shining softly.

"Thank you," Tarvek said, quietly, meeting her eyes.

Moxana's eyes brightened for a moment, and then she reached out and covered his hands on the book with hers for a moment, then tapped on the cover with the earlier set of four Sparks and pointed him to the door, somehow looking just the slightest bit amused. That message was fairly clear. Go and read them; I know you want to.

Tarvek grinned at her and stood up. "Thank you," he said again, more casually than before. "I'll treasure them." He didn't manage to make it to his room before he started reading, but only bumped into walls twice.

Agatha did try to be considerate, and so when Tarvek came veering out of Madame Moxana's room with his nose in a big book and disappeared into his room, she left him alone for almost a whole hour while she tried to concentrate on Sleipnir's notes, since the teachers had hinted she might think about starting up classwork again. She was just about to go finally ask what he was reading when Madame Otilia went and reminded him to meet with Baron Wulfenbach. Tarvek raced out a few minutes later, looking frazzled.

He came back just in time for dinner looking even more frazzled. Agatha was still hungry pretty much every time she saw food, so she was a little worried when Tarvek spent half the time poking at his. "Hey," she said, when she'd finished a bowl of very thick orange soup, "aren't you hungry? What did Baron Wulfenbach tell you?"

Tarvek stabbed a chunk of potato a bit too hard and it smooshed into two pieces on either side of his fork. "He didn't tell me anything. Well, he did, but that isn't the problem."

Agatha frowned. "If it's not bad news, what's the matter?"

Tarvek shut his eyes in a wince. "He kept asking me questions. And he'd obviously have answers in mind, but I didn't know them."

Gil looked puzzled and a little concerned. "You don't get this upset if the teachers ask questions you don't know the answers to yet," he pointed out.

"Not that kind of question," Tarvek said glumly. "Opinion questions."

"Do they have right answers?" asked Gil.

Tarvek looked despairing. "Yes, but I can't work out what he thinks they are."

"I don't think they do," said Agatha. "That's why they're opinions."

"Unless they're weird Spark opinions, like thinking everyone should be part snake or that turnips should be carnivorous," said Gil. "But I know that's not what you mean."

"Those wouldn't be a problem," Tarvek said. "It's hard to get that far into the madness place without being obvious about it."

"So what is the problem?" asked Agatha.

"These are about political analysis!" Tarvek said, dropping his fork to clutch his hair until it was almost as wild as Gil's. This drew interested looks from farther down the table, so he smoothed his hair back down, sort of, and started pretending to eat again. "I mean, they're the reasoning and predictive kind of opinions. I think there's a right answer, and obviously he thinks there's a right answer, but even if I knew everything about the situation I'm not sure we'd come up with the same one."

Agatha patted his elbow. "So?"

"So I don't know what he wants me to say!"

"You could just say what you think and find out?" said Gil.

Tarvek looked pained. "That might be all right for you."

"It's not like I enjoy having him mad at me, either," said Gil. "But it can't be worse than worrying this much about it."

"I don't think he'd get mad," said Agatha. "He was fine with me asking about the hostages. If he thought you were wrong he'd probably just explain."

"You're different," said Tarvek. "He doesn't trust me. And he was angry already. Not at me, exactly, but he was already in a bad mood when I got there. And I'm not sure why, because he didn't say anything about my almost being late and it didn't sound like anything was going all that badly."

"I trust you," said Agatha. "I don't suppose it would help if I told him that?"

"Thanks," Tarvek said, "but I think he already knows, probably."

Agatha eyed him. "I guess it wouldn't," she concluded. "I trust him, too, and that doesn't seem to make you feel any better." She brightened as an idea suddenly struck her. "I know, we should come with you!"

Tarvek blinked. "What?"

Gil nodded, waving a soup spoon airily. "That makes sense. We could answer the questions you don't want to."

"And if he's in a bad mood to start out, I don't mind asking him why," Agatha added encouragingly. Then they'd know what was wrong and it might make Baron Wulfenbach feel better, too.

"I'm not sure..." Tarvek began, then stopped and looked at them both for a minute. "I never know what he's going to do when you two ask him things. Maybe it would help." He started eating properly then, and Agatha exchanged a look with Gil and decided not to interrupt.

After he'd caught up with them Tarvek said, hushed, "I do have good news." He looked really excited about it, too.

"Are you going to tell us what it is?" Gil asked, a bit teasing.

"After dinner."

And on that point he would not budge no matter how many questions they asked him in how many different ways; he just ducked his head and grinned and obviously really enjoyed making them wonder. Agatha was almost curious enough to skip dessert, but Tarvek was having too much fun and didn't.

He actually supervised them both washing their hands before letting them in his room and showing them the notebook.

"Is that real?" Gil asked, staring at the name on it.

Tarvek ran a hand lovingly over the leather cover. "Moxana gave it to me."

"Oh," said Agatha. Nobody could know better than that. "Wow."

Tarvek opened the notebook to the table of contents, in meticulous flowy handwriting and mixed Latin and Dutch, and put it on the floor (after brushing away some midmoth fur and going to wash his hands again) so they could all read. Andy curled up next to him and only tried to turn the pages with his trunk once.

Klaus drew a long breath, told himself to ignore the incipient headache, and braced himself for another futile discussion with Tarvek Sturmvoraus. He was aware that this wasn't a very productive attitude, but it was a well supported prediction. It was obvious the boy could think. He already knew a fair amount of what Klaus was telling him. He had opinions. He'd just become ever more close-mouthed about them as the weeks wore on.

The door opened to admit Tarvek. Klaus rose formally, leaning over the desk, and then paused - entirely forgetting what he'd been about to say - as a metallic squeak issued from the corridor and Tarvek was followed in by Gilgamesh, Agatha, and the source of the squeak, Zoing pushing a small tea-cart with one sticky wheel.

"Gil?" he said, not quite sure what question to ask first.

"Hi!" Gil beamed at him. "Can we come too?"

"It may be a little late to ask that," said Tarvek.

Gil amended the question, undaunted. "Can we stay?"

Zoing pushed his cart up against the desk and began pouring tea and depositing sugar cubes into the cups. He peered up at Klaus from underneath a rather floppy hat and inquired, "Milkansugar?"

"Why is Zoing here?" Klaus asked.

"Company," Zoing said, unperturbed. "Helping. Brought tea."

"Gil was coming so he wanted to, too," Agatha explained.

Klaus pinched the bridge of his nose. It did not make the situation seem less... anything. He eyed Tarvek. "Did you decide you needed a council already?"

"They offered to come," said Tarvek, not meeting his eyes. "Although I wouldn't object to their advice."

"You never object to anything lately," Klaus said wearily. He had considered proposing terrible ideas just to see if Tarvek would react, but he suspected Tarvek would believe he was serious and still not speak up. He had been brought up by Aaronev, after all. Maybe having his friends around would get him talking. "Very well. Your advisors may-"

Zoing bumped his hand insistently with a cup.

Klaus took it absently and sat down. "-Stay for tea," he finished drily. "If they must."

"He said you were in a bad mood," Agatha observed, standing on her chair to lean on the desk. (Tarvek visibly tried not to cringe.) "I think he was right. What's the matter?"

"We are going to discuss politics," Klaus told her. "It's rarely a pleasant topic." He eyed her a bit suspiciously. "And no, a hug will not help." These meetings were unlikely to be improved if Tarvek couldn't take him seriously. "Sit down."

Agatha sat, looking miffed, and Klaus tried to pick up where he'd left off a few days before.

Which proved impossible and made him almost appreciate the previous meetings. Gil and Agatha and even Zoing weren't oblivious to Europan politics, which after all tended to filter into the schoolchildren's gossip. They had clearly paid attention in their lessons. They were making an effort to take an interest. But it was an effort to take an interest - not that Klaus couldn't sympathise - whereas even unwilling to express opinions, Tarvek had obviously dredged that gossip for every scrap of significance. And then, of course, he knew what they had tried to talk about before, and the other two did not.

They asked factual questions he'd already discussed with Tarvek. They made comments that were obviously uninformed by questions they hadn't known to ask. And all that might have been fine if Tarvek hadn't taken the excuse to keep quiet. The fifth time one of them asked Tarvek a question he could have answered at length and Tarvek demurred, "Actually, the Baron could probably explain that better," Klaus had had enough.

He stood up. "Out."

Everybody stopped and looked at him.

"Gilgamesh. Agatha. Zoing. Out. You are destroying the focus of this meeting. If you want to be filled in on the state of Europa's politics, we can do that another time."

They all looked stricken. Klaus thought for a moment he would have to remove them bodily, but after an uncertain look at Tarvek (really?) and his slightly frantic shooing gesture they got up to go. Zoing took off his hat, dropped two more lumps of sugar into each teacup, and shuffled sadly out last of all.

Klaus sat back down and regarded the sugar melting into already over-sweetened tea, and decided he definitely had a headache now.

He glanced up in surprise when Tarvek spoke. "Sorry about that. I should have told them not to come."

"I let them stay that long." And he certainly wasn't about to admit he'd half expected Agatha to defy him. Klaus rubbed his forehead. "You could have answered their questions yourself."

Tarvek looked down at his own teacup. "I thought it would be better if you did."

"Let's just start over," Klaus said, then, "Actually, no. Why don't you tell me how you would have answered them." Maybe it would have been useful to suggest that at the time.

Tarvek looked deeply unhappy about the prospect. Maybe it wouldn't.

There had to be some way to make this work. Klaus was going to find it if it killed them both.