Agatha H. and the Clockwork Princess

The two moved off through the camp, followed by amused and knowing glances. Pix looked thoughtful. “So with Passholdt gone...”

Abner nodded. “I’m afraid we’ll have to go through Balan’s Gap this year. Master Payne says we’ll discuss it tonight, but I don’t see any alternative.”

“Doesn’t Moxana—” Abner silenced her with a finger to her lips. Swiftly he reached into a nearby barrel and pulled out a squirming and spitting Krosp.

“I thought so,” Abner declared. “Can I help you with something? Before—” he glanced at Pix, “I’m eating?”

“Moxana!” The cat squalled. “You said that you’d introduce me to Moxana!”

The showman hesitated and then sighing, lowered Krosp to the ground. “So I did. Let’s go.”

Krosp looked surprised. “Really?”

Pix looked annoyed. “NOW?”

Abner answered them both. “It won’t take long.”

They left Pix with the food and made their way to one of the baggage wagons. This one was richly adorned with an astronomical motif. Stars and comets swirled along the sides, interspaced with astrological signs and sigils. A small cupola sprouted from the roof.

Krosp frowned. “I didn’t think anyone lived in these.”

Abner smiled. “No one does.” He selected a large ornate key from the ring at his waist and operated the lock. The door swung open with a groan and Abner waved the cat inside. “Krosp, meet Moxana.”

The inside of the wagon was stuffed with various props and stage mechanisms. In a cleared space in the center was a small, fancifully carved and decorated wheeled throne. A closer examination revealed the seated figure of a women, dressed in an exotic outfit and adorned with extravagant golden jewelry from several different cultures.

The cabinet before her was richly ornamented with various inlaid woods and gilded finials. Within easy reach of the seated figure were brightly painted wooden boxes held shut by intricate golden clasps. Directly before her was a game board, almost a meter square.

However, the nature of the game itself was not easy to discern. Looked at one way, it was a chess board. A slight shift in perception, and it could be for the East Indian game, Pachisi.

At this point, an astute observer would realize that there were easily a dozen different possibilities, depending upon the pieces employed. At the moment, the board was littered with pieces from a half a dozen different games haphazardly arranged in an unrecognizable pattern.

Krosp stared and then turned to Abner. “Moxana is a clank?”

Abner smiled. “Of a sort.” He reached over and released a set of clasps upon the front of the cart. The front lowered upon hinges, revealing a large empty section, except for the axle of the cart, and an intricate arrangement of rods and wires connected to various spots on the underside of the game board. “She’s actually a puppet. Run from down here.”

Krosp peered at the area and frowned. “Seems a bit small.”

Abner swung the panel closed and refastened the clasps. He then twisted a few bits of decoration, and the clasps were hidden from casual observation. “Indeed it is. That’s why we don’t put her out these days. Originally, she was run from the inside by a dwarf named Kurtz. He was killed three years ago by some bad clams.”

Krosp looked surprised. “Bad clams?”

Abner nodded, “Yes, they had axes. Anyway, no one else could fit inside.”

Krosp looked at the cart again. “Embi. Or Balthazar.”

Abner pulled a rag off a nearby chest and ran it over the figure as he talked. “Yes, I have high hopes for Balthazar, but at the moment his endgame is terrible.”

Krosp blinked. “Endgame?”

Abner nodded. “Moxana is supposed to be a clank that can play chess.”

Krosp studied the top of the board with a skeptical eye. “This doesn’t look like any chess set-up I’ve ever seen.”

Abner shrugged. “Chess is what we used her for. But yeah, Master Payne says that the board can be used for almost twenty different games that he’s familiar with, and probably a bunch more that he isn’t. But in these parts, if you want to impress someone, you play them at chess.” He sighed. “I’ve taught Embi the basics, but chess just isn’t his game. Can’t really wrap his head around it. The man’s a demon at Omweso, though. That’s a game he brought with him from Africa. There’s this board, with a bunch of little indentations—”

Krosp interrupted. “But I’ve heard people talk about her—it—like it was alive!” He leapt up to the board and gingerly poked at the seated figure. It remained motionless. He noticed that although it had fully articulated eyelids with long full eyelashes, which were closed, as well as a small perfectly sculpted nose and ears, the figure had no mouth. He batted at it again.

Abner looked embarrassed. “Well we all tend to talk like she is. Kurtz was a really good puppeteer. Before you knew it, you’d ignore him and be talking to the puppet. The audience always loved it, so we did it a lot. Got into the habit of telling her our problems, asking advice, you know...”

Krosp folded his arms. “No, not really. She’s got no mouth. How did she offer this advice?”

Abner looked at Krosp and frowned. When he spoke, it was carefully. “She... can do more than play games. When we thought the populace wouldn’t get too spooked by it, she did oracular readings. Tarot cards, pendulum divination, there’s this ‘Ching’ thing from the orient that uses sticks—Kurtz was pretty good at the woo-woo stuff, but—” Abner looked like he’d said too much.

“But—” Krosp prompted.

The man sighed. “It was Kurtz who started it. He said that sometimes... Moxana made her own moves, and that they always... meant something. Something more than he could see.”

Krosp studied the figure again. “And you buy this?”

Abner shook his head. “I don’t know. I was a lot greener in those days, and Kurtz always loved to spin a good story, but...these days, whenever things get a little strange, we say ‘Moxana’s rearranging her board.’” He blew out a breath and grinned. “I guess that’s pretty silly, eh? Kurtz loved messing with people.”

Krosp looked at Abner for a moment, took a deep sniff and then studied the mechanical figure again. He noted that although most of the figure had a fine coating of dust, the game board was sparkling clean.

He turned back to Abner. “Interesting.” He paused, “You know, I play chess. I could run her for you.”

Abner looked startled. He quickly looked at Moxana and then back to Krosp. “But—”

Krosp continued smoothly, “You would like to have her on display again, yes?”

Abner stammered, “Well... yes... of course... but—”

Krosp nodded as if it was settled. “We’ll have a few games later. You can see how good my endgame is.”

Abner acquiesced weakly. “Of course. Later...”

Krosp grabbed his hand and gave it a few hearty pumps. “Good! It’ll be more use than my shoveling dung, I’m sure!” Abner was aware of claws pricking his fingers. He saw the hunter’s gleam in the cat’s eyes. Krosp pulled his paw back, gave it a quick lick and rubbed it over his head. “And now, I’d better go find Agatha. She’s helpless without me, you know.”

With that he hopped down and strolled out the door. Abner stared after him and frowned. Behind him there was a faint whirr and several quick, quiet clicks.

Turning he saw several chess pieces set up upon the board. He made a quick analysis and blew his lips out in a puff of self-disgust. “Check.” He eyed the silent mechanical figure and turned to leave. “Yes, thank you. I got that.”

Several weeks passed. The circus worked its way through a series of small kingdoms that actually bothered to maintain the roads.

As a result, they made good time, and occasionally were able to play two shows a day in two different towns.

True to his word, Krosp proved to be a surprisingly good chess player. Easily beating everyone in the troupe except for Master Payne, who confided in the cat that “People hate to play against a magician, they’re never sure if they lost because I beat them or because I was able to pull a queen out my nose when they weren’t looking.”