Agatha H. and the Clockwork Princess

snapping over the flames. Lars was showered with burning embers as the branch shattered. He desperately scrabbled backward, staring in horror as the beast swallowed the burning stick. The monster was preparing to lunge, when a voice shouted—“Eyes!”

The monster whipped its head toward the sound, but Lars slapped his hand over his eyes.

FOOM! A blue actinic glare lit the entire area. Lars could sense it, even from behind his shielding hand. The horse-creature screamed in rage and pain as it staggered back.

The next instant, a fusillade of shots struck its side. The firing continued for almost a full minute. The force of the shots knocked the beast to the ground, until finally, Otto lowered his mechanical arm and dug into his pocket for more bullets. “I hit it directly!” he yelled. “Is dead, yes?”

Trish, next to Otto, lowered her crutch. It could now be seen that this was an automated rifle of exotic design. She bent it open with a “crack!” and snapped in a fresh drum of ammunition. “I’m not sure—” she began, closing the weapon with one jerk of her arm. She raised it to her shoulder as the beast lurched back to its feet. It glared at them and showed its teeth, as dozens of spines erupted from its head and body. It screamed again and stalked toward them purposefully.

“—But I think we got it mad,” Trish cried.

“Stev!” Guntar shouted, “Destroy!”

With a rumble, the squat automaton strode forward. As he moved, he shuddered and shrugged, unfolding his joints and growing as he advanced. Smilin’ Stev suddenly looked a lot more dangerous. The enormous grin plastered across his face widened—and a buzz saw slid out of his mouth, shrieking as it gained speed.

The monster saw the approaching clank and paused. As Stev came within reach, the creature wheeled about and delivered a punishing kick with its rear legs, punching two enormous dents into the machine’s hide and sending him flying backwards. Stev hit the ground rolling. When he stopped, he was on his back, limbs waving feebly.

By this time the rest of the circus performers had appeared, most of them carrying strange bits of equipment. A high-pitched squealing filled the air, causing everyone’s teeth to vibrate painfully. “Cover your ears!” Andre yelled, “I’m using the sonic cannon!”

Dame ?dith appeared atop one of the wagons. She opened a huge prayer book to reveal a hand-held machine cannon, and began firing wooden stakes at the creature. “Aut vincere aut mori!” she screamed.

Yeti lumbered forward. He took a string of huge beads from around his neck and wrapped it around his hand. The light around him began to bend slightly as he advanced. “Stay back,” he called out, “I am contemplating the gravity equations!”

Professor Moonsock rushed up, wearing nothing but a leather waistcoat and bloomers. She gleefully pulled the stopper from a large canister covered with warning symbols. “Fools! None of that will work!” she announced joyfully, “I am releasing my poisonous skywurms!”

At this announcement, the entire company turned away from the spiny horse- monster and screamed “No!” But it was far too late. A horde of glowing purple insects boiled forth from the canister. They spun about in the air, and then, at a signal from their delighted mistress, dived en masse toward the bemused horse beast.

As the wurms neared their target, the monster reared up and spat out a stream of foul-smelling flames that engulfed the entire swarm.

Guntar blinked in astonishment. “It breathes fire?”

Professor Moonsock stomped in fury. “Cheating! Cheating! That is so unfair!”

At that moment, Yeti clapped his huge hands together and boomed forth a low “Ooooommmmm...” The horse gasped, and its knees buckled.

From the darkness, Zeetha leapt onto the horse-creature’s back, her swords crossed before her. As she landed, she swept her arms forward, and the blades effortlessly sliced through the creature’s neck.

The head flew off with a surprised expression frozen upon its features. The body shuddered, but before anyone could react, the creature’s chest split wide open, revealing a gaping, fang-filled mouth that gibbered and squealed. Zeetha, astonished, had recovered quickly and was repeatedly sinking her swords into the creature’s back, but long tentacles burst out of the open maw, and plucked her into the air. Helpless, she roared in fury as she was pulled toward the creature’s huge mouth.

Suddenly, the thing exploded in a spatter of brilliant blue light. Zeetha was thrown sideways, and crashed against a cart, followed by tiny pattering scraps of monster.

The circus players stood transfixed. The only sound was an ominous “vreeeeeee—” as the weapon Agatha held under her arm recharged. She stood in the firelight, studying the performers and the assorted devices they held. She looked around at the damage those devices had caused to the surrounding area. Finally she nodded and lowered the gun.

“Well,” she said to Krosp, “There’s your answer.” She turned to Master Payne. “I think I understand now. You’re all Sparks. Aren’t you?”

Everyone looked at Master Payne. He opened his mouth to answer—and was cut off when Lars let out an unearthly shriek.

Oddly, at the sound of Lars’ scream, the circus players seemed to relax, as if this were the signal that all was clear. Trish bent over him as he sat on the ground near the fire. “It’s okay!” she said soothingly, “Take a deep breath.”

This didn’t help. “HORSE!” he screamed. “HORSEHORSE HORSEHORSE!”

Agatha stared. “What in the World is the matter with him?”

The Countess shook her head. “Panic attack. He gets them after things like this.”

Agatha looked surprised. “Oh. But... that’s kind of unusual for a Spark, isn’t it? Doesn’t he wind up doing it all the time, then?”

“He’s not a Spark.”

“What? But—”

Marie spread her hands. “Many of us, yes, but not all of us.”

Taki bustled up with an anticipatory grin upon his face. He was carrying a beautiful, large, golden-brown pie. “Panic attack, eh? Finally! Thought I’d never get a chance to try my newest Calming Pie!”

Before anyone could stop him, the cook strode straight over and slapped the pie directly into Lars’ face. Lars froze. Everyone held his or her breath... and then from around a face full of pie could be heard a strangled, “horrrff!”

Agatha looked at Marie with suspicion. “That was supposed to calm him down?”

The Countess rolled her eyes. “Those of us who are Sparks aren’t always that good at it. There’s a reason we get called ‘mad’ you know.”

The cook shrugged irritably. “All the calm must’ve leaked out. I’ll bake a fresh one.”

Yeti had retrieved Zeetha, and now held her carefully in his arms. Master Payne examined her foot, which looked bruised. He gingerly wiggled it, causing her to gasp in sudden pain.

The Circus Master clucked his tongue. “You’ve sprained that ankle. One of Professor Moonsock’s self- tightening bandages should have it fixed up in a few days, but you’ll want to stay off of it.”

One of the other performers bustled up. “No! Wait! This is the perfect opportunity to test out my ‘relativistic pain theory’! Let me get my hammer!”

One of the puppeteers snorted derisively. “Bosh! We should amputate! We can try out my new steam- powered feet!”

Zeetha snarled at them both and brandished a sword. “Come near me, and I will kill you!”

With the ease of long practice, both Sparks turned away. “Fine. Suffer then,” the hammer man said.

The puppeteer was obviously more disappointed and turned to eye the still babbling Lars. A speculative gleam grew in her eyes. “You know,” she said hopefully, “I’ll bet Lars wouldn’t panic if his feet could run at two hundred kilometers an hour!”

The hammer man looked at her scornfully. “Absurd. The stress would tear his legs apart.”

The puppeteer grinned and rubbed her hands together. “Ah—Old fashioned flesh legs, yes, but—”

“Enough!” Marie shouted, giving them a stern look. Around them, several equally-alarming conversations came to a halt. “All Lars needs is a lie-down and some quiet!”