Agatha H. and the Clockwork Princess

haul herself upwards along the face of the recumbent giant.

Once she reached where she wanted to go, she looped the rope around her seat and clipped it to an attached “D” ring. She examined the surface before her and then scraped away a thick layer of moss. A small service panel was revealed. She perfunctorily examined the lock and then took a large hammer from her belt and smacked it squarely. The surrounding metal crumbled into a spray of rust, while the steel lock briefly hung in place, and then tumbled to the ground. Again the pry bar came out and with a tooth gritting squeal, the panel swung open.

Agatha took a cloth and wiped several glass surfaces. To her surprise, a dim light flickered behind one or two of them. She grasped a large control lever, and with some difficulty, spun the dial to “AKTIV.”

A shudder ran through the giant figure. Sparks erupted from various joints and extremities. The single great eye in its head flared red, and with a terrible slowness, swiveled down and observed the small girl hanging from its chest.

The great arms jerked, ripping loose from a cluster of small trees and slowly swung towards her.

At this, the hidden watchers broke from cover and ran towards the giant. “Hang on, Agatha,” Lars yelled, “We’ll distract it!”

Surprised at their appearance, Agatha held up a hand and shouted back over the roaring and squealing of the awakening clank. “What? Just a minute.”

She then pushed away from the control panel, and as she swung back, lashed out with the heel of her boot, shattering the control lever housing. The lights flicked and died, and great figure shuddered once, then collapsed back onto its bed of smashed trees.

Agatha calmly unhooked herself and then slid down to the base of the now motionless figure. “Now what was that?”

Yeti and Lars stared at her. After a second Lars stepped forward. “Are you all right?”

Agatha looked back at the supine clank. “What? This? Sure! I helped my father with old stuff like this all the time. People were always finding dead clanks in the woods.” She patted a metal leg. “It’s always best to disable them permanently before you start trying to take them apart.”

Yeti looked at Lars. “That sounds safe enough.”

Agatha looked confused. “Well, of course. Didn’t Balthazar send you to help?”

Lars nodded. “Oh, yeah—”

Yeti interrupted. “No. Lars was worried about you poking about in the woods all alone.”

Agatha looked at Lars, who gave an embarrassed shrug. Agatha smiled. “Well you don’t know how much it means to me to have the two of you here.”

When Balthazar arrived with Smilin’ Stev, he was surprised to find Lars and Yeti straining to hold up one of the great clank’s arms, as Agatha squatted underneath and pulled out various components. Sweat was pouring down Lars face, and his face was set in a determined scowl.

Yeti looked over at him and smiled. “You did say it might be dangerous.” He shifted his feet. “Happy?”

Lars rolled his eyes and grunted. “Shut... up!”

Several hours later, after the useable parts of the great clank had been stripped and transported back to the circus, Lars gratefully sipped a beer and watched the Sparks sort through the scavenged material. Since Balthazar had discovered it, and Agatha had harvested it, they were the people to bargain with, and the trading of parts and future favors was in full swing.

Agatha’s foster-mother had tried for years to teach her how to dicker in the marketplace. Sadly, Agatha had never had the knack. But now that the locket that had suppressed her mind was off, lessons and techniques that had been patiently drummed into her head long ago were resurfacing. Admittedly, she was bargaining against actors, mountebanks and thieves who had no scruples about using their skills against each other (it was how one stayed sharp, after all), but she was holding her own, and Lars, who was an interested observer to the whole proceeding, realized that her skills were improving from one transaction to the next.

He frowned. He was feeling unusually conflicted when it came to Agatha. He tried to analyze this. Physically, there was no question. Agatha was ripe and round in all the right places. The final onstage kiss should have been something he looked forward to.

He had certainly planned on getting to know her better, but every time he saw an opportunity, he found himself holding back. There was something that was keeping him from pursuing the girl, and it was starting to bother him. He was beginning to fret that he was actually falling in love with her.

The very thought made him twitch.

When the haggling was done, and people were sorting through their prizes, Agatha came up to Lars, and knelt next to him.

She looked nervous. “This is for you,” she said. She handed Lars a small device. “I noticed you still used a tinderbox.”

Lars examined the device. He twisted the knob and a small flame puffed into being. He twisted it back and it disappeared.

“It’s to thank you for helping me move stuff back to camp.” Agatha said quickly. Lars noted that her face was quite red.

“Thank you, Agatha. That’s mighty nice of you.” Lars sighed to himself. He’d been given numerous devices such as this by helpful circus members over the years. He continued to use the more primitive methods because some of the towns he scouted looked suspiciously at anyone who wielded a device more complicated than a knife.

But with the eye of a man who’s hobby was women, Lars could see that Agatha was... interested in him. This made his hesitation even more inexplicable.

He made a show of putting the firestarter into his belt pouch. Agatha smiled. “So,” Lars said, “while I have you here, may I ask an impertinent question?”

Agatha looked wary. “I suppose...” she said uncertainly.

Lars leaned in and talked quietly. “Do you have a boyfriend waiting for you in Mechanicsburg?”

This had clearly not been on the mental list of questions that Agatha had been anticipating. “Oh, no,” she replied. “I was told that I have family there.”

Lars nodded. “Any boyfriends anywhere?”

Agatha looked away. “No, I... No. Not anywhere. Not ever,” she whispered.

Lars leaned back. “Really. Because, that madboy from the airship that came to get you? He seemed awfully upset when we told him that you were dead.” Lars looked away, but continued to watch her from the corner of his eyes. “And I’d heard—”

“I don’t care what you heard—” Agatha snapped, “But we weren’t... we weren’t anything!” She looked away. “He was probably just disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to drag me back to the Baron in chains.” She glared at Lars. He noted that her eyes glistened. “And what business is it of yours, anyway?”

Lars crossed his arms and gave her a leering grin. “Well, when I’m up on stage kissing you—” He was pleased to see a flush of color bloom upon her face, “It’ll be good to know that I don’t have to keep one eye out for some jealous guy jumping up onstage and causing trouble—and yes, it has happened.” He smiled at a memory. “Now that was one heck of an onstage pie fight.”

Agatha looked contrite. “I see.” She shook her head and smiled. “No, you won’t have to worry about that.”

Lars clapped his hands together and stood up. “Great! Then I can start acting less, and enjoy myself more!” And with that, he strode off towards his wagon.

Later that night, in her wagon, Agatha sat hugging a large pillow, as Zeetha slowly brushed out her long golden hair. For what, by Zeetha’s estimate, was the thousandth time, Agatha asked her, “But what did he mean by that?”

Zeetha rolled her eyes and grinned “I haven’t the foggiest idea,” she lied.