Things got better with the suddenness of the sun coming out, which Tarvek supposed was a terrible metaphor for the Storm King to use but he didn't really care. The Baron still scowled a lot, but it no longer seemed to be at him. And if Tarvek could barely hear himself over his own heartbeat the first few times he voiced his own opinions, the Baron listened to him anyway. And then fired off more questions, and challenges, and Tarvek kept on answering back and eventually started feeling like he could breathe during the process.

(And when the Baron did run casually over his opinion almost like his father used to do, Tarvek sat up and made himself say, "You insisted you want to hear what I think. There isn't any point to this if you don't even bother to argue!" and the Baron actually stopped and looked chagrined.)

Granted, he wasn't sure "I realise it's important, that doesn't mean I have to like it" was supposed to come from the adult involved in the conversation, but the Baron's distaste for politics seemed to make him surprisingly willing to listen to an eight-year-old's advice on it. They didn't actually disagree as often as Tarvek might have guessed.

They had one day, and Tarvek was still riding high from being told grumpily, "I'm not sure that kind of reasoning should be less peculiar from you than Barry, but it was somehow more convincing," when the Baron walked back to the school with him because he was actually supposed to be meeting Barry there and they entered just in time to hear Anevka squeal.

Anevka did not normally squeal. Tarvek went over to find out what had happened, only to find the Baron looming after him with an expression that suggested he didn't realise Anevka would never have made that noise out of pain. "Anevka?" Tarvek asked. She waved her magazine at him, which made it difficult to distinguish anything except that it probably had to do with opera. "...Something good?"

Anevka looked up at the Baron behind him and cleared her throat to reply in a better modulated tone of voice. "They're putting on the Storm King opera in Vienna again. For the first time in years."

"Not that many years," said the Baron. "-Then again, I suppose it would have been before you were born."

Anevka glanced down at the magazine. "It was all part of the plan, of course, but that doesn't change the artistic merit…."

The Baron snorted.

"Don't mind Klaus," said Barry, coming over. "He thinks Reichenbach's characterisation doesn't do justice to the historical figures. He has more of a sense of humour about Heterodyne plays. Who've they got playing the leads? Last time I saw it wasn't bad, except they both strained their voices during the Lover's Duet, and Andronicus kept squeaking through the third act."

"And that wasn't bad?" Anevka asked, sounding pained.

"Well, they could act. And Euphrosynia sounded more convincingly Sparky after the injury, if only for a few minutes. It was the last performance — I think they just got a little carried away."

Anevka pursed her lips and offered him the casting article. "Well, let's hope there aren't any similar accidents this time."

"I'm sure that would be preferable," Barry said, scanning the article before handing it back. "I take it you want to go?"

"I should certainly like to see it," she said. "I'm aware there may be other considerations."

Barry glanced up at the Baron. "Doesn't seem that infeasible."

"Taking our students on a school trip to the Opera doesn't sound infeasible?" said the Baron.

Barry regarded the room. By this point he had visited often enough that most of the students were nearly used to him, although Lyuba still looked a bit enthralled. (Tarvek sincerely hoped she didn't have a crush.) Most of them were not showing much interest in the conversation. "Well, I meant Anevka, specifically. I seriously doubt it would be all of them."

"We are not taking a random selection of students to the Opera on a whim, either. At least I'm not. Don't you have things you're meant to be doing too?"

"Yes, but if none of them are with people who'd be willing to meet up in Vienna, I'd be surprised," Barry said cheerfully.

"I suppose I can't stop you going to the Opera if you want to," said the Baron. "Or taking guests."

"But you don't like the idea." Barry looked alarmingly entertained. "Security concerns? One of us could always invite the Mechanikopera to perform - they don't tour much, but it's happened. They'd probably want to wait a season though."

"I'm not that concerned about security. It's just silly," said the Baron. "A rather expensive bit of frivolity. And not that good a story."

Anevka closed her magazine, looking carefully blank.

Barry said, "I'll stick to inviting interested students this time, then," and she looked up at him quickly. "It's not the ideal show to put on in Mechanicsburg, even if the rest of their repertoire might go over well." He considered. "Although hearing the Jägermonster Chorus sung by actual Jägermonsters is... certainly an experience."

Tarvek, who had read over the lyrics to the Jägermonster Chorus several times to practice not blushing, was not sure he wanted that experience. "If it's not normally performed in Mechanicsburg," he said, which it wasn't, "when did they hear it?" The Heterodyne Boys hadn't generally taken the Jägers out with them at all, and he had trouble imagining the previous Heterodynes taking them to see an opera.

"Oh, a lot of them got around," Barry said, "before or after the transformation, and there was a rather brief production there once. And apparently it's really catchy."

"Thank you for the opportunity, Lord Heterodyne," Anevka said, before the Chorus could invade the conversation further. "I'll look forward to it with great anticipation." She glanced down at the page. "It should be of considerable cultural interest," she added hopefully. "They've made a great restoration effort and even found the original rollerskating giraffe."

Barry blinked. "Not to spoil the fun, but I seriously doubt that."

The Baron raised an eyebrow at him. "Let me guess. It's in your basement?"

"Attic," Barry said with a grin.

"With Castle Heterodyne the distinction is not always obvious," the Baron returned, smiling.

Tarvek leant over the magazine, eyebrows furrowing together as he studied the drawings. "I thought this was the original from-" He stopped and looked up. "Wait. There was a real one?"

"Oh! They probably did mean the original prop," said Barry, then suddenly offered them all a downright infectious grin. "Okay, this is definitely frivolous, but we're close enough it won't take that long, either. Come on, you've got to see this."

"I've got to see this, frivolous or not," said the Baron. "Why was there a real rollerskating giraffe?"

Barry waved in Agatha's direction, and she collected Gil and rushed over. "It was Ogglespoon's," Barry explained as he led them out and toward his own airship. "It's actually a really nice clank."

When they arrived in Mechanicsburg, Barry moored his airship to a tower instead of landing it properly. After a little coaxing, Castle Heterodyne built him a platform to stand on while he put Tarvek and Agatha in through the window. Gil launched himself off the airship; Tarvek's hands clamped down on his as soon as he caught the sill, and he glared as Gil dragged himself up grinning.

"Don't do that," Tarvek said.

"The platform was still there," said Gil. "It's not like I was going to fall."

Tarvek frowned at him. Then Barry turned on the lights, which gleamed off a beautiful white and gold clank... horse. With spiky wheels flanking each hoof, so it must be what Barry had been talking about, but it was hardly -

Tarvek took a second look at the gold-ridged neck. Agatha crouched down to wrap a hand around one fetlock and lift the foot, examining the joints. "It extends," Tarvek said, fascinated.

"Got it in one," said Barry. "Bill and I had more fun with this…."

"Could we ride on it?" Agatha asked, bouncing up onto her toes.

"Sure. Hop on and we'll take it down to a nice long hallway."

"Watch out it doesn't try to run away with you," Castle Heterodyne said a little snidely.

Anevka jumped a bit. "Does it have the mind to?" she asked the air.

Barry rolled his eyes and put Agatha on its back; she stood up, gripping the neck. "No. Here, I'll show you the controls on the way downstairs."

"It doesn't look built for stairs," the Baron said dubiously.

Barry grinned. "Just watch. Who else wants to ride?"

Tarvek looked thoughtful and then nodded decisively. "Yes, please," he said, holding his hands up to Barry to be helped on.

"And me," said Gil, not waiting to be lifted but just swarming up Klaus, who gave Barry a you'd better be right about this look before putting him on its back.

Anevka wavered slightly before holding reaching out and letting the Baron hand her up behind Gil. Barry walked them out the door to the top of the stairs, pointing out levers to an attentive Agatha while Tarvek and Gil peered around her, and then stood back.

The clank extended its forelegs several inches and picked its way gracefully down several steps before Agatha evidently decided she had the hang of it and sent it galloping down the spiral.

"Mistress," said the Castle. "Are you familiar with the term breakneck pace? I suggest slowing down."

"Please?" Tarvek added under his breath.

"I think it has a point!" Barry shouted after them.

"Aww..." Agatha sighed and tried to slow down; the clank lurched as if it might somersault forward, and Tarvek reached around Agatha to brace himself so they weren't all thrown against the neck. Agatha waggled the controls to pick up speed again. "We'll get off at the next landing!"

They did. The clank slewed sideways at full speed; an awfully solid door loomed up in front of them, then slammed open just as they careered through it into a long open hallway. Agatha slowed them down more gently, coming to a halt about halfway along. "Sorry," she said a little breathlessly. "Does anybody want to get down?"

"No," said Gil, "but can I have the next turn driving?"

"Only if you don't gallop it down more stairs," said Tarvek. "Otherwise I'm driving."

"It's a little tricky to brake on the way down," said Barry from the end of the hall, sounding rather calmer about the whole thing than Tarvek would have expected. "I probably should have gone over that."

"So this is what you and Bill did as children," said the Baron, sounding like he was trying to sound as unconcerned as Barry.

"She did a little better. We actually did take the clank head over heels a couple of times working out the controls, although probably the most exciting part was a sudden encounter with a rug."

"So this is why there are so few surviving Heterodynes."

"The Castle would probably have caught them if they'd actually tumbled badly."

"Probably?"

"I do my best," the Castle said cheerfully.

"Be more careful, though, all right?" Barry ruffled Agatha's hair. "When you've managed to alarm Castle Heterodyne you really do need to take a minute for risk assessment."

The children survived Ogglespoon's giraffe, amazingly enough, and Barry - of course - ended up taking everyone who was remotely interested to the opera. A half-dozen of his upcoming appointments were moved to Vienna - he'd only tried for two, but word had got out. Evidently Klaus was the only one who didn't think it was an amazing idea.

Klaus was waiting in the hangar when Barry's airship landed. The first passengers off were a couple of very smug Jägers who formally flanked the doorway, followed by some of the older students - Theo grinned at him before leading the way back to the school, towing Sleipnir by the hand, and Klaus nodded to them. He managed not to smile at Martellus, who looked vaguely embarrassed about steering his drowsy sister.

Once most of the students were past, Gil shot out at high speed, hugged Klaus, and let go to keep bouncing up and down on his toes. "Had a good time?" Klaus asked, amused.

"It was great!"

"He did sit still for the opera," said Donna, emerging with a sound-asleep Agatha in her arms. Klaus blinked - it wasn't unreasonable for her to be carrying Agatha, it just struck him as odd. "I think it was difficult."

Gil might have giggled.

Barry finally came out, carrying Tarvek and followed closely by Anevka. "Everybody was very well behaved," he said. "Even Professor Ponglenoze. Here, can you-"

Klaus held out his arms automatically as Barry handed Tarvek off to him and immediately reclaimed Agatha. Tarvek opened his eyes and looked up in confusion.

"Barry's got Agatha,' said Klaus, deciding that was going to have to do for explanation. "Enjoy the opera?"

"Uh-huh." Tarvek's eyelids drifted shut for a moment, and his brow furrowed in concentration. "You don't mind?"

"You still worry too much," Gil remarked, after chinning himself on Klaus's arm to nearly reach Tarvek's eye-level.

"No one's forcing me to carry you," Klaus pointed out. Admittedly someone had to, but it wasn't as if he was the only person around. "We should get you and Agatha to bed." And Gil. But at the moment he had doubts that was feasible.

"Klaus has been complaining about stories where people make unfortunate vows at least since university," said Barry. "He doesn't actually take serious offence at other people enjoying them."

Anevka yawned and then tried to look as if she hadn't. Gil dropped back to the floor and went back to bouncing. "I don't know why everybody else is so tired."

"Agatha is five and you're the only other person who took a nap this afternoon," Donna said in amusement. "Although I'm not sure that explains your energy level."

"I wasn't hoping that having gone to the opera you'd all have a horrible time," said Klaus, amused and rather puzzled that that was what Tarvek had thought he'd mind. Really, political opinions were one thing, but did Tarvek think he wasn't meant to have any preferences of his own? Tarvek blinked a couple more times and then evidently decided he was either reassured or too sleepy to care, because he put his head down against Klaus's shoulder and went limp.

"He was enthralled," said Barry, as they set off toward the school. Gil raced off ahead of them, then back from the first corner and off again. "It was really very well done." There was something a little off about his tone, and Klaus looked at him sharply and saw a wan tightness around his eyes.

"You don't look like you enjoyed it," Klaus said, quietly.

One of Barry's hands came up to curl around Agatha's head, and he glanced at Tarvek before speaking. "They did an excellent job of showing Valois self-destruct and some of his court trail him helplessly trying to pick up the pieces."

"Ah." Klaus had never really asked for the details of the search for Lucrezia or what had happened with Bill in the end. At first it had seemed too soon, and then there had been other things. But he'd heard some of it. "I'm sorry."

Barry shook his head slightly. "It was a good trip otherwise. Got most of what we asked for on the diplomatic side and a couple of good ideas..." He smiled, shadowed but real. "And a couple of composers insisted on telling me all about the plots they were working on. One of them's got a new Spark who manages to settle down from breakthrough and get the weather-control engine sorted out after her sister convinces her she still loves her. I told them it sounded wholesome and provocative."

"You're becoming a patron of the arts now? Getting a head start on acquiring a court?"

"It seemed like something to encourage. If they're any good at all they should be able to use that description to get an audience..." Barry considered. "Possibly a somewhat confused audience."

"Hm," said Klaus. "Potentially a Spark audience. Too many plays either treat Sparks as destined to be monsters or don't show the problems with breakthrough. The redemption story lines tend to -" He stopped abruptly. Most of the redemption story lines in current plays were Lucrezia in the various Heterodyne Boys ones.

Barry gave him a rueful look. "We could probably use a little more variety there, yes."

Klaus smiled a little, relieved Barry wasn't hurt by the reminder, especially when he'd already been thinking of Bill's obsession. "If your composer does produce his play, that's one I would take a school trip to." Not all their Sparks could be relied on to have easy breakthroughs. Something to tell them that, even if they didn't, they could come back from it could wind up being valuable to some.

"Sounds like a plan. Maybe I'll let him know that." A sudden grin. "Otilia might be able to attend that one without completely distracting everybody." Not that Otilia had particularly wanted to see Reichenbach's version of her King's career anyway.

"At least for plot related reasons," said Klaus.

"Not much more distracting than Barry was for this one?" Donna suggested.

Gil pelted up to them again, finally starting to look a little tired, as they reached the door to the school. It slid open before Klaus could reach for it to reveal Otilia herself. She held a quieting finger to her lips and stood back to let them in.

Klaus smiled at her and went through to get Tarvek to bed. The boy didn't wake up this time through having his shoes and glasses taken off, or being tucked in. He was smiling slightly in his sleep. Maybe the opera had been a good idea, if it had made their children happy, Klaus thought, turning the light out and heading back to see if Gil was ready to be tucked in yet.

She was finished. She was perfect.

Tarvek took off his glasses to scrub at bleary eyes. It had been building all the time he helped fix Zene, and then he'd been reading over Van Rijn's notes one more time before bed and fell asleep on them - he'd bent a page, and might be horrified about that later - but he woke up with understanding whole and bright in his mind, and he'd got Gil and Agatha awake, and he was pretty sure they'd all forgotten to go to class for a few days. It had been a lot like working on the dragon except without a terror in the back of his mind he was trying to forget.

Now he was anxious though. Half in a hurry and half what if, what if, what if - had he done everything right, would the Muses mind, would she like him?

One of Agatha's little clanks dinged impatiently.

Tarvek rested one hand on her cheek, breathing hard. One brow-ridge and the eyebrow painted on it arched, the other swooped up at the end, giving her a quizzical expression even unactivated. She was ready.

He reached around to the back of her head, where the base of her skull would be, to flip the switch there, and slid the protective plate into place over it. Then put his hands on her shoulders and watched as her grey, glass eyes lit up slightly, mimicking the shine of light off a human eye but he knew this was lit from the inside, suddenly she looked alive.

She sat up with jerky, uncertain, movements, tipping her head from side to side to take in the room, before returning her gaze to him. It was a very steady look, but he couldn't guess what thoughts might lie behind it. He felt examined but he wasn't sure whether she was forming a judgement. Or whether he'd like it if she was. "How do you feel?" he asked.

She blinked, looking down at her own hands. "I don't know," she said. "Sorry."

"That's not…you don't need to be sorry. You don't need to figure it out yet."

"I am meant to answer questions," she said, a thread of uncertainty in her voice. Tarvek had a moment of being amazed that her voice could contain emotion, that he'd made it able to.

"Only once you've had time to gather the information for them. And that was a different kind of question." He sat down on the bench, across from her. "It's not always an easy one for anybody. Try this — are you in any pain?"

"No," she said.

Agatha, having been watching from a short distance away, chimed in with, "Is there anything you want?"

Mnemosyne turned to look at her, the two of them regarding each other so earnestly that the fact Tarvek had copied Agatha's proportions for Mnemosyne was suddenly visible as an unexpected likeness. "To learn everything," she said.

"You don't think small," Gil said with a grin. Tarvek wasn't entirely sure whether he meant him or Mnemosyne. Possibly both. "Want us to bring you some books? I'm in the middle of some really good ones."

"You should come to the school!" said Agatha. "That's what it's for, getting started on learning everything."

"That would be nice," said Mnemosyne.

Tarvek wasn't entirely sure about taking her to the school. Mostly because he expected Otilia to be there and...he wasn't sure how that would go. Even if Otilia hadn't objected before, he was nervous about how she'd regard the finished result. On the other hand it was the first thing Mnemosyne had even come close to asking for. "We'll take you there," he said. "But maybe we should find you a dress first." She was a clank, but the Muses didn't walk around naked. He especially didn't want to introduce her to Otilia with no clothes on.

"I'll get one," said Agatha. She darted at the door and then whirled back around. "Do you like any colours yet?"

"Will I like colours later?" Mnemosyne asked.

"Maybe," said Gil. "I don't care but Tarvek gets very opinionated about them sometimes."

"Oh," said Mnemosyne, with an air of storing this information for later. "No, not yet."

"Okay. I'll be right back." Agatha dashed out the door and could be briefly seen starting down the corridor with one of the Jägers who'd been guarding the lab, gesturing animatedly.

Adam, who had been taking notes, didn't stop Agatha leaving, so Tarvek assumed she was allowed to go and get a dress. He did smile at Mnemosyne when she looked at him, though, and when she asked, "What is that?" he held the pad out to her. Which meant that by the time Agatha returned Mnemosyne was engrossed in the notes on her own creation and Tarvek was wondering whether he should show her Van Rijn's notes.

Agatha handed Tarvek the dress and went to read over Mnemosyne's shoulder while he shook it out and nearly dropped the underthings and long striped socks folded up inside. Not surprisingly, the dress was green, although the silvery-grey pattern almost matched parts of Mnemosyne's casing. He wasn't as sure about the socks, though, especially as Agatha hadn't also brought shoes.

"Mnemosyne," he called. "Come here a moment."

She put the notes down obediently and let him dress her - it was like dressing a doll, or maybe a child. He smoothed it down once it was on and she looked at herself thoughtfully. "I can go places like this?"

"Yes," said Tarvek. "I'll have to ask the Baron where you're allowed to go, but I don't see why you won't be able to go where we do at least. Zoing does."

"Who is Zoing?" she asked.

"Gil's friend," said Tarvek. "Gil made him. He's a lobster."

"He used to be a lobster," Gil said. "He's really nice. I'll introduce you."

"Do you still want to go and see the school now?" Tarvek asked, holding a hand out to Mnemosyne.

She took it, folding her fingers around his awkwardly. "Yes, please."

Adam reclaimed his notes and walked them to the school while Mnemosyne looked around at everyone in the halls. Several people did double-takes; most of them who looked at her properly smiled.

Everybody in the common room looked up in surprise when they arrived, and Tarvek realised it was probably late afternoon. Otilia and Moxana were in conversation at the far edge of the room, and all his nerves came back in a rush and a flutter when they both looked over.

"Madame Otilia, Madame Moxana," he said, going over to them, aware of the whispering behind him. "I'd like to introduce Mnemosyne."

Moxana inclined her head and raised a hand in silent greeting, looking at Mnemosyne with interest; Otilia crouched down, wings arching above her head for balance. "Hello, Mnemosyne," she said. "So this is what our King did with the notes on our creation."

Adam waved the notes on Mnemosyne's creation with a faint smile.

"Hello, Madame Otilia," said Mnemosyne, looking up at her eagerly. "There are notes on your creation?"

"Moxana kept them safe for nearly two centuries, and gave them to Tarvek when she heard he was building you."

Mnemosyne looked at Tarvek. "Yes, you can read them," he said, making up his mind. He didn't think it could do any harm.

"Thank you," she said.

Moxana tilted her head, then extended a hand to Mnemosyne and, when she took it, interlaced their fingers. Mnemosyne's hands were a little bit big on her, because the delicate clockwork of her brain had been one thing but hands needed joints that couldn't all go inside a protective skull-like casing. Moxana's long graceful fingers still folded down the back of Mnemosyne's hands nearly all the way to her wrists.

Mnemosyne gazed at her, looking more curious than anything, as if sure Moxana was conveying something but unsure what.

Moxana looked back into her eyes for a long moment and then withdrew her hand and tapped the centre of Mnemosyne's palm with a forefinger. Mnemosyne turned her hand over and found the Sun card shining from it.

"Innocence, accomplishment, rationality and youth," Mnemosyne recited. She apparently had some knowledge of the tarot - Tarvek really had no idea what he'd managed to give her knowledge of, he probably should, but at least some of the time he'd spent building her was a blur of remembered inspiration - but it was clear she didn't really understand. Whatever was numinous about the Muses Tarvek had neither been able, nor really tried, to recreate.

"You," said Agatha, cheerfully. "She has specific cards to refer to all the Muses, but not for other people normally. Tarvek used to get a page card, but now he's a king."

"I'm not a Muse," said Mnemosyne.

Otilia put a hand on her shoulder, one wing spread slightly and falling about her. "We're not so different as that. You are family, of a sort."

Mnemosyne looked between the two Muses framing her and smiled, a little crooked smile. "That is kind of you."

Tarvek felt himself smiling, they liked her.

"She said she wanted to learn everything," said Gil. "We were just taking her to find some books, but she can come to lessons, can't she?"

"Yes," said Otilia, letting go of Mnemosyne's shoulder and stepping back. "She's welcome to."

"But there aren't any more of those until tomorrow," Agatha explained to Mnemosyne, "so we should go see the books."

The pile of books they presented Mnemosyne with were the ones they'd happened to have in their own rooms. Gil produced Machines That Shouldn't Work, a rather exasperated guide to interesting inventions, and Glassblowing with Hiccups. Agatha's were Composers of the Idyll Years and A History of Death Rays, Tarvek's own reading material was presently the practical Who's Who, What's What and Who Built What, guides to prominent Sparks and their creations. He and Mnemosyne might be in the next editions.

Mnemosyne looked at the books around her eagerly, but without preference. Rather than choose one she simply picked up the closest, Composers of the Idyll Years, and started reading.

She read quickly, and with great absorption, and she probably would have put the book down and been just as attentive to the next topic if they'd started talking to her again. But none of them were inclined to interrupt her, and after a few minutes first Agatha excused herself and then Gil tiptoed out.

(This did not actually seem to have any effect on whether they distracted her. Mnemosyne politely told them each goodbye without looking up.)

Tarvek stayed longer, just gazing at her while she read. She didn't seem disturbed by it, and he was still amazed. He'd made a person. She worked. She liked him and the Muses liked her and she was sitting there, in Agatha's dress, turning pages and drinking in knowledge and to all appearances completely happy.

Yes. Perfect.

The few hectic days of Mnemosyne's creation seemed to mark the end of breakthrough, although all three Sparks had been calm enough at times before that it could have been considered ended already, and that simply a flight of inspiration. It wasn't easy to measure these things, but it did, for Klaus, mark the point where he counted them as having completely survived breakthrough and breathed a little easier (while leaving the blast shields up).

Mnemosyne herself was fascinating. Klaus wished he could have seen more of her creation, but he'd read Adam's very detailed notes, and observed the clank-girl herself, an attention she didn't seem to find worrying or even very interesting. She had the height and proportions of a child (in fact she had the height and proportions of Agatha) and what was probably meant to be the doll-like beauty of the Muses. The inexperience of the designing Sparks showed though, her features were asymmetrical, her hands and feet large for her body, and she moved with mechanical gawkiness. There was something appealing about her anyway, though, as if in missing beauty they'd landed on cuteness.

Her mind, though, was a marvel, especially considering the youth of her creators. Designed to remember things her creators might want to know about, she didn't just absorb knowledge but actively sought it out, he'd heard her creators had taken her to the school almost as soon as she was finished. Klaus gave her the run of the ship to see what she would do (all except for anything actively secret) and what she mostly did was watch and learn. She sat in on lessons and Otilia, who regarded her as a sort of cousin, made no objection.

She was quiet, respectful, neat, curious and remembered everything. Somehow it still surprised Klaus when he entered the Castle's main library and found her having a friendly conversation with Boris.

Somewhat unfortunately, Boris saw him at nearly the same time. "Excuse me, Mnemosyne," he said apologetically. "Herr Baron? Did you need something?"

"I can find my own reference materials, Boris," Klaus said with a faint smile. "Without interrupting what I imagine is a fascinating conversation." If perhaps only to the two of them.

"I was asking Miss Mnemosyne about her explorations," said Boris, taking off his glasses to clean them. He added a little stiffly, "You know I wouldn't allow that to interfere with my duties."

"You're off-duty, Boris," Klaus said patiently.

Boris put his glasses back on and rolled his eyes. "Yes, well, under the circumstances I would hardly be surprised if something came up."

"I'm not aware of any new emergencies. Amazingly enough." Klaus looked down at Mnemosyne. "Are you looking forward to the coronation?"

Mnemosyne blinked once. "Yes, Herr Baron. It hasn't happened yet."

Klaus rubbed his upper lip hard. He wasn't entirely sure whether it would hurt Mnemosyne's feelings to be laughed at, but it seemed better avoided. "Very true. That was idiomatic. I meant, do you expect to enjoy it?"

"Yes. It will be a new experience," she said.

"Some of those are more pleasant than others," Boris said wryly.

"Are they?" said Mnemosyne. "Which ones are less pleasant?"

Boris opened his mouth and then shut it again. Klaus said, "Ones involving loss, injury, or humiliation, often. But we're trying to avoid those at the coronation."

"Then you expect it to be a pleasant experience?" said Mnemosyne. "Will you enjoy it?"

Swearing fealty to Aaronev's son, to Gil's friend, was going to be... strange. But he had committed to the solution for a variety of solid reasons... not the least of which was that, despite Lucrezia, he was not without faith in the Heterodynes' optimism. "I'll be pleased if everything goes well," he said.

"If there is any way I can help with that, I will," said was both unexpected and charming. Possibly she'd received her creator's sense of responsibility for managing things, although she had escaped his paranoia, possibly by a little too far. "Thank you," he said. "I think the best thing for you to help with will be to remember it clearly, which I'm sure you'll do. But if I think of something else, I'll ask you."

"I will remember it, Herr Baron," she said. "And you are welcome."