Agatha H. and the Clockwork Princess

Suddenly, over the roar of battle, the ever-present music changed.

“Of course!” Klaus realized. “The music! She’s directing the actions of the clanks through the music!” He paused and shook his head. “That’s brilliant. I’ve got to remember that.”

“Is ‘brilliant’ the same as ‘trouble’?” asked a corporal who’d served with the Baron before.

“It is that,” Klaus acknowledged with a grim smile, “We’ve got to find that girl and stop her before—”

There was a deep boom of sound, and one of the Hoomhoffers disappeared.

A scream from the mahout drew every eye upwards. Above the fray, the Baba Yaga flapped its enormous pinions as it dragged the Hoomhoffer skyward, clutched in its great metal claws.

The troops on the ground swung their rifles up and began firing, just as the flying wagon swooped about and launched the captive insect toward the ranks of its fellows. The Hoomhoffer screamed in from above, its torn wings buzzing ineffectually, and smashed into two others of the tank-like creatures, crushing one and sending the other flying for several dozen meters. When it tumbled to a stop, it lay twitching, stunned.

With another loop, the Baba Yaga prepared to swoop down for another victim.

“The Hooms are scattering!” The corporal reported. An explosion sent shrapnel screaming through the air. “And that was the last of our clanks! We can’t penetrate the enemy lines to find this girl, those friggin’ little bomb things are everywhere!”

Klaus grit his teeth. I underestimated her, he realized. “Drummers,” he roared. “Sound Full Retreat!”

The soldiers looked at each other in astonishment. Full Retreat? One of the drummers had a panicky moment before he could even remember how to play it.

They hesitated. A furious lieutenant kicked a wooden chest, which extruded a set of mechanical legs and began to pursue him, its lid snapping at him. That did it. The drums boomed out the unfamiliar refrain. With a step, then another, then several speeding up into a run, part of the greatest army that Europa had ever seen, took to its heels.

Klaus loped up next to a Captain. “Have them form up on the other side of that wall!” He pointed.

“Not that great a defensive position, sir!” the Captain opined, eyes glancing up at the still circling wagon.

Klaus reached into his coat as he ran and produced an elaborate flare gun. He spun several wheels, aimed upwards and fired three times.

Overhead, various explosions bloomed in a variety of colors.

“I’ve called for reinforcements!” he said loudly. “Once they arrive they’ll carpet-bomb the area, but we have to keep these clanks contained!”

This cheered the troops that heard it, and they ran with a renewed purpose.

In a small clearing near-by, the circus troupe, as well as the soldiers who were guarding them, stared at the wall of trees that separated them from the various shouts, gunfire, music and explosions that filled the air.

A trooper gripped his rifle tighter and muttered. “What the hell is going on over there?”

A seasoned campaigner who sported a prosthetic brass nose tried to maintain an air of detachment. “That’s Spark stuff. You manage to steer clear of it—you’ll live longer.”

The trooper looked resolute. “But they might need us.”

This got him a mechanical sounding snort. “Oh? So you think you’re smarter than the Baron?”

“What? No! Of course not!”

“Well, he’s the one who told us to guard these mooks. So just do your job.” This advice was accompanied by a metallic “click.”

Suddenly the two soldiers realized that they were shackled to each other. As they stared at this, two more clicks caused them to turn, or rather to try to do so. They then discovered that their other arms were attached to nearby trees. Shouts of alarm from around the camp revealed that the other sentries were discovering similar constraints.

“What’s going on?” the old soldier shouted. “How is this possible?”

A burst of fire and a plume of smoke revealed Master Payne standing before them. “A good magician never reveals how a trick is done,” he intoned ominously. “An evil magician never leaves any evidence that there was a trick in the first place.” He leaned in menacingly. “So which am I going to be today?”

The two soldiers stared at him and then dropped their weapons and huddled on the ground with their eyes firmly shut. “Good!” they screamed.

Abner shook his head admiringly as the troupe slipped past the prostrate guards. “That is such a great act.”

The Countess looked at him in confusion. “Act? What act?”

At the keyboard of the Silverodian, Agatha directed the clanks through her music. Strange notes spun away into the air and swirled around her.

“Agatha!” Zeetha stood at her elbow and yelled over the music. “The Baron’s troops are withdrawing!” She pointed back towards Balan’s Gap. “But there are airships heading this way! Your clanks can’t fight them all! We’ve got to get out of here while we have the chance!”

Agatha waved her away. “You go!”

Zeetha blinked. “What?”

Agatha looked at her and Zeetha shivered at the expression on her face. “You go,” Agatha said patiently, as one would to a child. “Get everyone away from here. Lars was a good person. He tried to help me. He cared about me. And for that, he’s dead.

“He’s dead, and I can’t even try to fix it. Not out here, with nothing to work with—and the Baron is trying to kill all my friends, and—and there’s other things... things wrong with my head. So you go, and I’ll stay here and stop the Baron.”

She turned back to her keyboards and the facade of calm reasonableness shattered as a maniacal grin smeared itself across her face. “I’ll crush his whole army right here. Right now! And then he won’t be able to hurt anyone else I care about. No one will. No one will ever hurt anyone else I love ever again or else I’ll—”

And that was when Agatha’s head exploded.

At least, that was what it felt like. Her vision went white. Well, actually, a sort of creamy, custard-like off white. She tasted an unexpected hint of lemon, and began to realize that it was, in fact, custard that was now dripping down her face.

Taki leaned in and scrutinized her. “So. How d’ye feel?”

Agatha considered this question. The answer surprised her. “Um... Pretty calm, actually.”

Taki pumped his fist and twirled in place. “Yes!” He shouted. “Extra butter! Less nutmeg! I am a genius! Take that Brillat-Savarin[76]!”

A wave of water hit Agatha in the face, cleaning the remnants of the calming pie away. Taki whirled to face Ognian and Krosp, who held an empty bucket. “She was fine, you idiots! Now she’ll—”

Agatha raised a dripping finger. “No, no... still calm.”

Taki blinked. “Really? Um...”

Klaus Wulfenbach appeared from around a smoking wagon. In his hands he carried one of the great trooper clank’s machine cannons. “There you are!” He swung the cannon up and fired. “DIE!”

Agatha took stock as hundreds of bullets screamed past her. “Astonishingly, still calm.”

“Get DOWN!” Taki shrieked as he jerked Agatha back behind the bulk of the Silverodian.

Huddled down, Agatha saw the organ begin to come apart as it was chewed up by the stream of bullets. She turned to the cowering cook. “Got a calming pie for him?”

Taki considered this. “I don’t think I could bake one big enough.”

At this moment, there was a small explosion, and the underlying base notes that had been filling the air