Agatha H. and the Clockwork Princess

to meet you, Miss Clay.”

Abner stepped up. “I’m sure Krosp told you about her.”

Agatha nodded. “He told me enough to pique my curiosity, certainly. Unless I miss my guess she’s some sort of autonomous clank construct, apparently with some attribute that resembles prognostication, which no one in the circus can understand, but is doubtless simply utilizing some heretofore undiscovered branch of science, which would explain why you try to keep her out of sight.”

Master Payne looked at her, obviously considered saying something, but in the end, just waved her into the wagon.

It took a bit of maneuvering for all of them to fit into the tight space, so it was Krosp who first noticed—“Hey! The chessboard is gone.”

Suddenly, the seated figure moved. Her eyes snapped open with a soft click. They were a vivid, electric blue. Her gleaming, white porcelain arms came up and swept out over the board, which was now a pad of brushed green baize, embroidered with an intersecting set of lines and circles with a shining silver thread. Her movements were smooth, and gracefully stylized.

She slid her palms together and a deck of large, ornate cards appeared between them.

Payne grunted in surprise. “I haven’t seen her use her cards in ages,” he muttered.

Moxana placed the stack face down and with the tip of a finger, swirled the deck into an elaborate spiral. She then selected the card that lay in the center and flipped it up, exposing the face.

They all craned forward to examine it. Agatha had never seen a card like this before. Adam had occasionally had friends over for a late night game of cards in the back room of the forge. Agatha had been pressed into service bringing them beer and snacks. But this card was not embellished with any of the familiar four suits.

It was a colored picture of a globe hanging in the night sky, part of a mechanism of great brass and crystal gears. A large turn-key was inserted into the heart of Africa. At the top, along the margin was the Roman numeral “XXI” and at the bottom, written in a fine Carolingian miniscule hand, were the words—

“The Device.” Payne adjusted his spectacles. “That’s the card Moxana uses to indicate herself[40].”

Moxana nodded, took the card back and unhesitatingly tore it into small bits. As the others gasped in surprise, one of her hands snapped out and clasped Agatha’s right hand and pulled it towards her. Agatha allowed her hand to be turned palm upwards. Moxana then dropped the shredded card into her open hand, reached out to take her other hand and placed it palm down upon the first. She then released both hands, brought both of her arms back to her sides and went still.

Everyone looked at each other, but nothing else happened. Agatha raised her hand. There, upon her upturned palm, was the card, restored and whole.

Agatha stared at this for several seconds, and then looked at Moxana. “You’re broken,” she hazarded, “And you want me to repair you.”

Payne and Abner stared at each other in astonishment. “Could you do that?” Abner asked.

Agatha shrugged. “Depends on what’s wrong. May I take a look?”

Moxana nodded with a click. As Abner unlatched the front, Agatha reached into a pocket and pulled out her pocket-watch clank. A tap on the back, and the central eye clicked on, sending a bright beam of light across the wagon’s dim interior. She slid to her knees and crawled into the depths of the cabinet. A faint humming could be heard as she poked around. This was cut off suddenly as Agatha’s body jerked in surprise. She pulled herself out again with an amazed look on her face. She turned to the two men.

“Did you know that this is a Van Rijn?” she whispered.

Master Payne gave her an appraising look. “I did. I’m impressed that you do[41].”

Agatha reached out and gently took one of the clank’s arms. She peered closely at the mechanisms in the finger joints. “My old Master used to talk about Van Rijn and his work endlessly. They were one of his passions.” She put the hand down. “Beautiful,” she murmured. “You’d never know she was over two hundred years old. There are still things we just don’t know how to duplicate...”

She turned to face Master Payne. “I’d rather not just go poking around inside her. I didn’t see anything obviously wrong. What’s the problem?”

Payne shrugged. “I’m not sure—”

With a ping, Moxana snapped into action. Her hands swept up the cards, except for two, that spun about upon their corners before flopping down together, face up. In addition to The Device, there was a card that showed a spinning top balanced upon an upright wheel that was rolling off the edge of a cliff. It had the number “XV” at the top, and the label at the bottom simply read: Movement.

When Payne saw this, his face sagged and he closed his eyes. “Of course,” he sighed. “Tinka.”

To Agatha’s unspoken question, he explained. “We used to have another clank we displayed along with Moxana. This one was a dancer. Her name was Tinka.” He paused, and then continued. “Both Moxana and Tinka were originally part of a set of nine clanks constructed by the artificer Van Rijn for The Storm King.” He again paused.

“The Muses,” Agatha supplied. Then realization of what she had said penetrated and her eyes went wide. “The Muses? The Muses? Moxana is one of the Storm King’s Muses?”

Payne nodded. “The same[42].”

Agatha was overwhelmed, and understandably so.

“But they were lost!”

“They lost themselves. If they had not done so, they were convinced they would have been dismantled by Sparks seeking to understand and duplicate Van Rijn’s work. And so, they hid.”

Agatha looked at Moxana. “But—As part of a traveling show?”

Payne spread his hands. “Actually it was a very perspicacious move.

Before shows such as ours became Heterodyne shows, they were usually just traveling wonder shows, with a large collection of freaks and oddities. Some of the most popular items displayed were fake Muses. They were famous, after all.”

He reached out and ran a hand gently over the back of Moxana’s throne. “Moxana and Tinka had stayed together, and disguised as fakes, they survived, and traveled across Europa for over a hundred and fifty years, doing what they were designed to do. Instructing, inspiring and waiting.”

“Waiting for what?”

Payne sighed. “For a new Storm King.”

Krosp’s brow furrowed. “But—”

Payne forestalled his objection with an upraised hand. “Don’t even start. They were built to serve The Storm King. Until there’s a new Storm King, they wait. If there never is a new Storm King, then they will wait forever. They are machines. Rational argument will only go so far.”

Agatha nodded. She’d seen her share of otherwise brilliant mechanisms determined to walk through walls or wash pots until they’d been scrubbed into metal foil.

Payne continued. “But travel, especially in the Wastelands, is dangerous, and if you do it long enough, then the odds will turn against you.” He shrugged. “I found Tinka and Moxana in a wrecked wagon amongst the ruins of another show. Whatever attacked didn’t consider them valuable.

“They were happy enough to join my show, and I was able to protect them for almost twenty years.”

Payne stopped and his shoulders slumped. Moxana reached up and gently patted his hand. Payne smiled at her and continued. “And then, three years ago, we were doing our spring traverse of the mountains, just as we’re doing now. In those days, we preferred to go through Balen’s Gap.”

Krosp perked up. “I’ve heard of that. It’s where the coalition of forces under The Storm King actually managed to stop Bludtharst Heterodyne’s armies.” He turned to Agatha. “Very famous battle, that. Until then, it looked like the Heterodynes would sweep all the way to the Danube, but instead, they were forced to overextend themselves and—”

Agatha put a large bucket over the cat. “You get him going on military history and he’s good for several hours. You were saying?”