Agatha H. and the Clockwork Princess

repainted and shining in the dark. He brought the sign into focus just in time to see a blur rush past. He snapped upright, eyes wide. “That’s damn fast!” The old guard took off at a run, shouting back over his shoulder: “Ring the bell—and get some archers to the East Gate! That’s an order!”

Zulli dashed along darkening streets, lit by only the occasional lantern. Now, he could hear the alarm bell tolling from the central watchtower. He cast his eyes about frantically for someone—anyone—he could commandeer to help spread the word, but the streets were empty, the shops dark and locked tight. Everyone in town must be at the damn circus, he realized. He hoped that his fellow guards would hear the bell and respond, but the music of the circus and the noise of the crowd drowned out everything else. They might not hear the bell, or they might be too drunk to care.

He skidded around the final corner and swore in dismay. There before him was the East Gate, portcullis up, the great oak and iron doors still wide open. This staggering bit of incompetence was explained by one look at the men on duty. It was Smek and Bodine, a pair of the Mayor’s otherwise unemployable relatives. Zulli promised himself he’d break whoever had assigned them to the same shift.

“Red fire!” he shouted as he ran up, “Are you Sparksons deaf? Close the damn gate!”

The two guards gaped at him. Bodine was in a state of flustered confusion, but managed to squeak: “But... but Assia Velichou and Pavel Dakar are still outside!”

“They’re hunting mushrooms,” Smek drawled helpfully.

Zulli delivered a resounding smack to both of their helmets as he tore past them. “You cretins! They’ve got thirty seconds to get dressed and back inside before we close the gate! Do you hear me out there?” he addressed the darkness beyond the gate in a voice like thunder: “Something’s coming! We’re closing the gate! Get in here NOW!”

Smek was the smarter of the two. He dashed off and began tugging at the great iron hook that locked the left gate open. Zulli tugged at the right, while counting under his breath.

Bodine dithered beside him. “We can’t just leave them out there—it’s dark!”

“Thirty seconds!” Zulli roared as he pulled the hook free.

Smek was already tugging his half of the gate closed. “What’s coming?” he gasped.

“I don’t know,” Zulli admitted, “but you’d better hope it kills you, or Assia’s father will! ”

“S-s-sir!” Bodine whispered. His voice was strangled, terrified.

Another voice spoke. “Hy vish to enter dis town.”

The tones were rich and sweet, but the accent froze Sergeant Zulli fast. We should have killed those Jagers, he thought.

There was a gust of warm air behind him. He turned slowly, and found himself face to face with the largest brown bear he had ever seen. Deep brown eyes watched him steadily. Avoiding the bear’s gaze, he found himself staring at the huge pair of gold rings in its left ear, then at the matching pair in its right. A delicate cough dragged his attention upward. The bear’s rider was a Jagermonster, that much was obvious. Its deep blue cloak hung aside slightly, revealing an oddly distorted breastplate. Startled, Zulli realized that the rider was female. Old military man that he was, Zulli had of course heard rumors, jokes, and all kinds of lascivious stories, but he had only half believed them. He had never seen a female Jagermonster before. Now, with one gazing down at him from atop her gigantic bear, the light of the huge gate lanterns throwing vast shadows behind them, the sergeant felt a small flicker of curiosity through his pall of terror.

Her long hair was a fine silvery grey, and her skin—what little could be seen of it—was a deep olive green. The lower half of her face was muffled under a soft scarf, and her wide-brimmed hat was pulled low over her face. The eyes that showed between were large and expressive. She gazed at him calmly—she wasn’t angry... yet.

Zulli opened his mouth and found it had gone dry. He swallowed with difficulty and tried again. “The... the town is closed. Until dawn.”

The Jager sat back and made a pretense of examining the gate. “But de gate iz not yet closed. Hy merely seek—”

A “tung” sounding from the wall overhead was Zulli’s only hint that his fellow guards had finally arrived. The rider had already noticed them, of course, and moved her hand before the sound even came, calmly plucking a crossbow bolt out of the air. She examined it briefly, and then casually snapped the shaft in half with her thumb.

“Hy forgiff.” She announced to the air. “Vunce.” She leaned down towards the shivering watchmen. “Hy em lookink for my boyz.”

Thank the Blessed Zenobia they’re still alive, Zulli thought. He was just beginning to form a polite answer, when Smek, unable to contain his terror any longer, proved just how stupid he really was by screaming: “FIRE!”

Agatha sank into the fortuneteller’s throne and leaned forward with one arm on the little table—positioning herself to fling the telluricomnivisualization ball at Othar’s head if he made any sudden moves. “Look” she said. “I’m only going to explain this once. The Baron thinks I’m dead. Gil... thinks I’m dead. That’s good. That’s what I want. I don’t want to be a Heterodyne. I don’t even want to be a Spark. Not if people like you are going to show up trying to kill me. So I won’t. I’ll stay here. I’m done with all of that. Finished. And I am certainly not going to go off hero-ing with you. Understand?”

Othar leaned back so far that his chair rested on only its two back legs. He crossed his arms behind his head and his mouth twitched upwards in a small, infuriating smile. “Really?” It was more a statement than a question.

At that moment, a great roar erupted outside the tent, followed by screams and a clash of weapons.

Agatha leapt to her feet, knocking over the table and sending the scrying ball whizzing past Othar’s ear. The lightning gun that she had been quietly holding under the table was now in full view, but she didn’t care about secrecy any more. Ignoring Othar, who had fallen backward off his chair, she swept aside the curtains and took in the scene outside.

Through the blaze of the circus lanterns she could see an enormous bear, towering high as it reared back and gave another tremendous roar. A dozen members of the town watch, and easily twice as many townsmen, were swarming around its feet in desperate battle. Things were not going well for them.

The bear lashed out, its wide paws knocking men about with terrible ease. Astride the creature rode a woman swathed in a midnight-blue cloak, silver hair flying. She deflected arrows and sliced the tops off pikes with a sword that was easily two meters long. It wasn’t so much a battle as it was a rout.

“Hy em rapidly loozink my patience,” the woman shouted. Agatha paused as she realized that the rider was a Jager and, as far as Agatha could tell, hadn’t actually killed anyone.

Just then, the rider noticed Agatha. She took one look at the lightning gun in Agatha’s hands and snarled in fury. Turning her great bear, she faced Agatha directly, and charged.

Agatha desperately pointed the gun and fired. A sharp crack rang out as a burst of dazzling blue light filled the square. When her eyes cleared, Agatha saw that one of the wagons was burning, but the bear and its rider were nowhere to be seen. It was only when the bear crashed back to earth that Agatha realized it must have leapt straight up to avoid the blast. I didn’t know they could do that, she thought in a daze, just before the bear’s rider slammed into her.

The Jager dashed the weapon from Agatha’s hand and stomped it with a booted heel, smashing the center flat with a crackle of blue sparks.

She grabbed Agatha’s wrist and leaned in close. “Und now,” she hissed, “Ve see vat happens to clever leedle fingers vat play vit nasty leedle toyz—” As the Jager spoke, she pushed Agatha’s index finger backward toward her wrist.

Agatha thrashed backward and screamed in pain. Suddenly, Othar swung in, delivering a solid boot to the side of the Jager’s head, so that she went spinning away from Agatha.

“That’s my Spunky Girl Sidekick, I’ll have you know!” He boomed cheerfully.

Agatha scrambled to her feet. “I am not—”