Agatha H. and the Clockwork Princess

days ago—I might have been able to do something!”

“We could not!” Otilia said flatly. “We would have... damaged ourselves by speaking this plainly before now.”

“Otilia is correct,” Artimo agreed. “We were designed to teach you, to inspire you, to help you make the correct decisions. We cannot lead you. We cannot force you. We cannot rule you.”

Andronicus thought about this. “That’s... good to know, I suppose. So why tell me this now?”

Suddenly, there was a clattering upon the stairs and a squad of Storm Knights, led by Hugomont, his aide- de-camp, were there. The man shrugged apologetically. Valois waved it off, the old fellow had done wonders, Andronicus had easily had almost fifteen minutes to himself.

Hugomont spoke. “Your Majesty! The Heterodynes are approaching! You must prepare!”

The Storm King nodded, squared his shoulders and allowed himself to be led away to his destiny.

The Muses watched him leave, and then, as one, swiveled about to look down upon the approaching procession.

“Because, my King,” Artimo said softly, “It is too late to change anything.”

CHAPTER 1

           SCENE; A small cottage. Table. 3 Chairs. Shutters on the windows. Sturdy door. PRINCESS VIONA & Her three SERVANTS are center stage.

           SOUND EFFECT; KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

           PRINCESS VONIA; Now who could that be?

           THE FIDDLER (softly); Please let me in. I want your light.

           PRINCESS VONIA; My light? How peculiar!

           THE SERVANT MADE OF ICE; Princess! Remember! These are the Wastelands! Don’t open the door!

           THE FIDDLER (softly); But I’m so dark. I need your light.

           PRINCESS VONIA; But he sounds so weak.

           THE SERVANT MADE OF LEAD; Princess! We were warned! These are the Wastelands! Don’t open the door!

           THE FIDDLER (softly); Please. You are using so very much. I need it. Just open your door.

           PRINCESS VONIA; Why, surely a little light couldn’t hurt.

           THE SERVANT MADE OF WHEELS; Princess! There is something wrong here! These are the Wastelands! Don’t open the door!

           ALL THREE SERVANTS; Don’t open the door! Don’t open the door! (TO THE AUDIENCE) Help us before it is too late!

           SERVANTS AND AUDIENCE (louder each time); Don’t open the door! Don’t open the door! Don’t open the door!

           PRINCESS VONIA; Surely a peek will not hurt. (OPENS DOOR) Oh!

           (LIGHTS GO OUT)

—Act 1/Scene 1, The Heterodyne Boys and the Mystery of the Thrice-Dark City

The little airship was losing altitude fast. Agatha could see the wild pine forests and mountain outcrops growing ever closer, and this worried her. She had guessed that her quick patch-job wouldn’t hold for long, but she had hoped it would last long enough for the stolen ship to get her over the mountains before nightfall. Now, she wasn’t so sure. She aimed toward a promising gap in the peaks, then, locking the wheel so the course would hold, killed the engines.

She turned to the center of the gondola and tugged at a likely ring in the floor, stumbling backward slightly as the heavy hatch first stuck, then swung open as if spring-loaded. She quickly scanned the mechanism it revealed, humming softly to herself. Then, she dragged a leather roll of tools to her side, flipped it open with a deft movement, and began to work.

She wasn’t even sure what mountains they were[1], or where she was, exactly. She knew she was traveling east, toward the sun rising behind the peaks.

Agatha had been insensible on the trip from her home in the University town of Beetleburg to the great airship city Castle Wulfenbach.[2] She now realized, with some annoyance, that in all the time she had spent on Castle Wulfenbach, she had never bothered to discover the present location and route of the gigantic airship as it continued its endless patrol of the Wulfenbach Empire. This morning’s escape could have begun practically anywhere over Europa.

Well, she thought, as she slammed the hatch and re-started the engines, it hardly mattered at the moment. Putting the mountains and their turbulent air currents between herself and any pursuit seemed like her best shot at escape. Once on the ground, she could worry about where she was. For now, anywhere but Castle Wulfenbach was her goal.

“Krosp—wake up.” She called to the gondola’s other occupant, a large white cat who yawned and stretched.

“What is it, Agatha? Pursuit?”

“No, but we’re starting to lose altitude.” She tapped a fingernail against a dial face. The needle within flicked briefly, then continued in its slow decent. “Pretty quickly, too, thanks to that hole Othar[3] shot in the envelope.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think that patch would hold long.” The two of them scanned the ground. Dense forest covered a jagged landscape that occasionally revealed rocky spires. Patches of late snow still clung to the higher, more shaded dells. A multitude of streams and small rivers coursed through the numerous valleys. It looked like an absolutely terrible landscape to travel on foot.

“Can we at least clear that?” Krosp stopped licking one paw long enough to gesture toward an especially craggy mountain that loomed to one side of the gap.

“I think so.” Agatha said. “I’m going to try. I’ve made some changes to the ship’s engines—they’ll give us more speed for about twenty minutes.”

“Twenty minutes? Then what?”

She considered this. “Then, they’ll start to explode. But don’t worry. The envelope doesn’t have that much time left anyway, from the look of it.”

Krosp gazed at her for a long moment. “I’m reassured. Thanks.”

Agatha continued, oblivious to the sarcasm in the cat’s voice. “But it should get us over the mountains before we’re scraping the tops of the trees. That’s assuming that the winds here don’t tear us to shreds, of course.”

Krosp’s ears twitched. “...Of course.”

The wind certainly tried. Krosp’s voice was drowned out by a sudden, screaming blast that hit the tiny airship from the starboard side—knocking the cat off his feet and sending him tumbling across the deck. He landed hard against a roughly carved trunk and grasped frantically at the netting that held it firmly lashed in place. As she lunged for the ship’s wheel, Agatha spared a glance backward, reassuring herself that Krosp hadn’t been blown over the side. There was nothing she could do for him in any case. She would have to trust in the cat’s own terror and claws to keep him safely on board through the worst of it.

The airship bounced to and fro. The wind first tossed it dangerously close to the sharp mountain crags—now