Agatha H. and the Clockwork Princess

worriedly checked himself.

Dimo chuckled and slowly rubbed his jaw, which produced a sound analogous to stroking a stiff hairbrush. “Dot... iz a goot qvestion. Sometimes Hy vunder.” Maxim and Ognian looked at him questioningly. “Haff all dose guys mit der Baron gone soft offer der years? Or haff ve become... sharper because ve leaf der group und haff to learn how to tink better?” He spread his hands. “Hy tink mebbee both.”

Agatha narrowed her eyes. “The group... You mean the other Jagermonsters that work for the Baron?” Dimo nodded. “Why did you leave them?”

Dimo looked at her seriously. “For hyu.”

Maxim nodded. “Ven der Baron offered the Jagerkin employment, ve knew ve had to take it. He said dot he needed us, but not as much as ve needed him. Ve served der House of Heterodyne. For der last twenty years or so, dot vas all to der goot, but der Jagers haff served der Heterodynes for hundreds uf years, und dot vas vat people remembered. Vitout der Heterodynes, ve needed somevun like der Baron to protect us.

“But if dere vas even a possibility dot anodder Heterodyne existed, ve could not, in goot conscience sign on mit der Baron. So ve agreed to serve him, mit the condition dot if a Heterodyne vas effer found, ve would be released from der Empire’s service.

“Now, der Baron agreed to help us search, but it vas suspected dot searchink vould not be a high priority. So der Generals asked for a sqvad of volunteers.”

Dimo picked up the narrative. “Ve were to leave the group. Go forth into der vorld, und not return until ve had found an acceptable Heterodyne heir, no matter how lonk it took. Ve knew it vas... suicide mission. Ve had kept track uf der family tree. Ve knew dot der Heterodynes vere gone. Ve vould neffer be able to go beck.”

He stopped, overcome with emotion. Ognian gently punched him on the shoulder and continued. “But because uf us, der Jagerkin could hold der heads up und say dot ve had not abandoned our masters. Dey vas free to join der House uf Wulfenbach. Der Baron protected dem, and dey fought for der Empire.”

The Jager grinned. “Und now hyu show op und spoil all our plenz!” A tear formed in his eye. “Because now ve... ve gets to go beck. And I neffer—” he gulped, “I neffer thought—” Suddenly he folded up at Agatha’s feet and to her intense embarrassment clasped at her knees. “Ve haff missed you,” he choked out. “Please, please be real!”

Agatha stooped and gave the distraught monster a hug. She looked up into the faces of the other two Jagers, who were displaying mixed emotions at the scene before them. “I am real,” she assured them. “I really am.”

She pulled an embarrassed Ognian to his feet and then sat back down. “Now tell me about Master Payne’s plan.”

Several days later, the circus cleared a last patch of forest and rolled onto a very well-maintained road running parallel to the bank of a fast-flowing river. According to Master Payne, this meant that they had officially exited the Wastelands.

This was cause for a small celebration. Bottles were passed about and musical instruments made their appearance. Thus it was a jolly troupe indeed that pulled up before the stout, reinforced gates of a small fortress that barred the road over the river.

Although small, the garrison bustled with activity. Farmers were delivering hay, a squad of new recruits, loaded with large packs lumbered past, harried by a bellowing Sergeant. Stacks of stores were being moved by sweating troopers, who were stripped to the waist. Several nearby airship gantries stood empty, but showed signs of recent use.

Everywhere in evidence was a sigil depicting a sword thrust down through the spokes of a gear, which was adorned with a pair of heraldic wings. This was the Sturmvarous family crest. They had arrived at the border of Balan’s Gap.

Questions were asked. A desultory examination of the wagons was made, a small discrete payment, as well as several bottles, exchanged hands, and the wagons rumbled through the fortress and over the well-maintained stone bridge. More than one circus member noted the carrier pigeons that left the fortress shortly thereafter and flew on before them.

The lowlands on this side of the river consisted mostly of rich-looking farmland, with fields of freshly sown dark earth, dotted with small settlements.

Almost immediately however, the road swung upwards, and they began to climb the foothills leading up to the actual pass over the mountains.

The superior quality of the road was a pleasant change after weeks in the Wastelands, and once all of the spare horses were hitched up, the climb was slow, but uneventful.

Quickly enough, the trees began to change from deciduous to conifer. By the time the circus pulled into the small alpine village where they’d spend the night, there was a bit of a chill to the air. There were also dark, gathering clouds. The troupe’s part-time meteorologist assured Payne that there would unquestionably be a heavy rainstorm in the next few hours, as well as the always-present danger of meteors.

There was no show that night. With the threat of rain, Payne had refused to set up the outdoor stage. With his permission, many of the performers headed over to the inn, a large, grandiose building that was beginning to show signs of neglect. It had been built in the days before airship travel had begun to steal the wealthy road traffic.

There would be no Heterodyne show this evening. The proprietor of the inn had agreed to split the evening’s profits if the troupe performed in the tavern, and while there wasn’t enough space for a proper stage show, it was a perfect venue for individual musicians, buskers and jugglers to try out new routines.

Agatha and Zeetha were heading there themselves, when they came upon Lars tending a small fire.

Lars had been a lot more attentive of late. Agatha found this flattering, but she had discovered that while Lars was undoubtedly what people in books referred to as a “boon companion,” he had certain deficiencies that she, personally, found troubling.

As Lars would have been the first to point out, he wasn’t particularly intellectual, had no inclination towards mechanics or chemistry, and frankly admitted that he wasn’t even much of a reader.

On the plus side, he was tall and muscular, displayed a great deal of interest in Agatha, and when he spoke in his onstage “Madboy” voice, her heart began thumping in a most distracting manner.

She had shared these observations with Zeetha, who had shrugged. “So he’s not much for intellectual discussion?”

Agatha shook her head.

“Good kisser though, eh?”

Agatha had blushed and nodded. Even though all they had done was kiss once a night onstage, these kisses had been getting better and better.

“So kiss him enough that he doesn’t have a chance to mess things up by talking.”

Agatha frowned. “That seems like an extremely poor blueprint for a long-term relationship.”

Zeetha rolled her eyes. “Start with kissing him twice in one night. Then decide if you want to work your way up.”

This suggestion certainly had a lot to recommend it, so when they reached Lars, Agatha stopped, and casually said, “You go on ahead. I’ll be there eventually.”

Zeetha just grinned, and trotted off.

Lars unrolled a horse blanket upon the ground, and patted the empty space beside him invitingly.

“Not going to the inn?” Agatha asked.

Lars shook his head. “I had a bellyful of that lot yesterday. They water the beer and short-change the tavern maids. Besides, someone’s got to watch the wagons.” He pulled a small silver timepiece out from an inside pocket and consulted it. “My watch’ll be over soon anyway.” He looked up at the low-lying clouds. “Before it starts to rain, if I’m lucky. You?”

Agatha stepped over and, feeling quite daring, sat down beside him. “I don’t like taverns much. I don’t like the smells.” She leaned back a bit and looked at the dark clouds overhead. “I think that’s what I like best about living on the road. It always smells so nice.”

“You got that right,” Lars agreed. He reached behind him and pulled out a dark