Agatha H. and the Clockwork Princess

An intense young woman in a grey leather uniform shrugged. “I have no idea. The two of them were just talking—and then Zeetha went nuts.”

The tall girl turned to Agatha, who was still stunned. “What happened?” she demanded.

“I don’t know!” Agatha wailed. “We were talking about Skifander and—”

The girl interrupted. “Wait—You’ve heard of Skifander? Really?”

Agatha looked at her. “Yes. Really.” The look on the girl’s face prompted her to ask, “Why is that so surprising?”

The tall girl slowly sat down. She studied Agatha intently for a minute and then nodded to herself. “Sorry. I’m one of the few friends Zeetha has.” Agatha thought, rather uncharitably, that she was surprised Zeetha had any friends at all.

The girl introduced herself. “I’m Olga Ziga. Listen. Zeetha was—is—from this Skifander place. Apparently it’s some ancient lost city in the jungle or a cavern or something.”

Agatha nodded. She could believe it. “Lost” civilizations were surprisingly common, even outside of the Wastelands. Two years ago, a group of students had discovered one under old Rudolf‘s Delicatessen back in Beetleburg.

“Well a few years ago, this Skifander got itself ‘discovered’ by some Spark’s expedition. When the explorers were ready to head back to civilization, the Queen decided to send one of her warriors out with them, an explorer of her own to go see what the rest of the world was getting up to. Zeetha was chosen. It was a big honor. She’s actually a member the Royal Family, though she doesn’t go on about it.

“On the journey here, she got really sick. Feverish. She doesn’t remember anything about the trip—except the hallucinations, and from her description, they were pretty awful. Floating around, furniture on the ceiling—wild stuff. Then, just as she was getting back on her feet, their airship was attacked by pirates.”

“They killed everyone else on board, but decided to spare her. Personally, I think it was her hair. It’s really naturally green, you know, and really pretty when she treats it well. They probably thought they could sell an exotic like her for a nice sum[8]. Plus, by then, she must’ve looked pretty helpless.

“Anyway, they took reasonably good care of her. That meant that by the time they got back to their fortress and let her out of her cell, she was nice and healthy. Oh, and in case I hadn’t mentioned it before, Skifander is apparently some sort of city of warriors, and Zeetha had to earn her spot on the trip by beating everyone one else who wanted to go. So, as you might guess, she’s a really good warrior.

“Well, she took them all on. All the pirates in the fortress. All of them. And she won. She killed them all. Again... All of them.”

Olga paused, and Agatha thought she looked a little embarrassed. “Like I said, a good fighter, but... thinking really isn’t her strong suit. So it wasn’t until she’d finished them all off and burned down the fortress that she realized that she’d just killed anyone who might’ve had a clue about where she’d originally come from.”

Olga sat back and sighed, smoothing her hair with a clash of bracelets. “Since then she’s been wandering all over Europa looking for a way home. She joined up with us almost two years ago.” She looked Agatha in the eye. “And you’re the first person, anywhere, who’s even heard of this Skifander.”

Agatha puffed a lock of hair up out of her face. “I see. That explains her reaction.” Agatha thought a moment. “I wish I knew more, but my uncle never said where Skifander was. He just told stories about it.”

Olga stood. “But at least you’ve heard of it. Most of the others—” she glanced around. “Well, I think at least some of the others think she was just making it all up. And... Zeetha can tell. That really wears on her. You see how she is.”

At this moment, Pix rounded the corner of a wagon. “Agatha!” she called out. “Master Payne is ready to see you!”

Olga stood. “Ah, I’ve got to pack. Nice meeting you.” She took Agatha’s hand. “I’m so glad you’ve heard of Skifander. It’s been bothering her so much. Even if you don’t know anything else... well... thank you for that.” Olga turned with a wave and vanished back into her wagon.

Agatha turned to Pix, and the two set off together. Pix looked sideways at her curiously. “You’ve really heard about Zeetha’s Skifander?”

“It was years ago,” Agatha admitted, “But my uncle traveled all over. He talked about it like it was a real place.”

Pix digested this. “And where are you heading?”

“Mechanicsburg.” Agatha replied.

“Ah. The home of the Heterodynes. That’s quite a way. You have family there?”

Agatha considered this. “That’s what I’m going to find out.”

Pix nodded. “Your best bet is to head west.” She gestured over the trees. “Do you have a compass?” Agatha shook her head. “Oh, well, I’ll bet we can find one for you to take with you easily enough. I’ll ask around before you go.”

Agatha nodded. A sinking feeling began to grow inside her chest. It didn’t sound like they were going to let her stay.

A shrill mechanical squeal filled the air. Next to them, a wagon covered in garish gear designs rocked to a halt, wobbling slightly as it balanced upon a single, central wheel.

A diminutive woman with dark skin and a grimy leather mechanic’s coverall swore and threw a large wrench to the ground. “What the hell is it now?” she screamed.

Agatha stepped up and cleared her throat. “Excuse me, but that noise means that your gyro gear needs repacking.” The woman gave her long, blank, stare, but an older man, seated at the wagon’s controls, slapped his thigh and laughed heartily. “Aha! See? It is as I told you!”

The woman frowned and turned away from Agatha in irritation. “Ah, what does she know?”

Agatha bristled. “I know that it’s a Duchy of Blenshaf Gyro Wheel,” she said frostily. “Your wobble plate is loose, and it also sounds like you’ve neglected to replace the sponge dampers. Probably because you can’t find new ones. They’re hard to get these days. You can make an acceptable replacement out of horse dung and straw. And from the way your wheel is spalling, it’s obvious that that you don’t have the correct formula for tread gunk.”

The short woman turned back, all traces of annoyance gone. She regarded Agatha with interest. “You know Gyro Wheels,” she stated.

Agatha nodded, slightly mollified. “My dad was a mechanic. We saw these all the time.”

The man in the driver’s seat was grinning. He had fair skin, bleached yellow hair, and a wide jaw. When he grinned, it covered a fair amount of his face. He also had a mechanical forearm and hand which he raised, pushing back his cap. He leaned forward. “Say, if you are going to being sticking around, would you want a working job?”

Agatha blinked. “What?” Behind her, Pix grimaced in exasperation and covered her eyes with one hand.

“I am Captain Kadiiski. Me and Rivet—” He indicated the woman, who gave her a friendly nod, “We have the dubious honor of being the poor, put-upon mechanics for this noisy collection of divas and geeks. But I must admit, with some small embarrassment, that the Lady Rivet and myself are what you would call piston-leg men. This miserable wheel has got us smoked.”

Rivet nodded. “We could use another competent mechanic around here anyway.”

Pix spoke up. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Reluctantly, Agatha agreed. “Yes, I’ve got to get to Mechanicsburg.”

Rivet once again looked at her blankly. “So what’s the problem? We’ll be performing at Mechanicsburg in a month or two. Big cheese festival.”

Agatha turned to look at Pix. “Really.” Pix rolled her eyes.

Rivet continued, “Oh yeah. And in the meantime, you’ll actually earn—”

“Rivet! Shut! Up!”

All three of them stared at Pix. Kadiiski frowned. “What is your problem of the sudden?”

“The problem,” a voice boomed from behind them, “Is that this Miss Clay cannot travel with us.”

Agatha turned and stared. Before her stood one of the largest men she had ever seen, followed by several