Agatha H. and the Clockwork Princess

The end of our world.”

Vrin stared bleakly at Agatha in silence. Then, astonishingly, she smiled. “But when your world ends, apparently a new one glides in to take its place. The sun rose. The stars wheeled across the sky. Sisters realized they were getting hungry. So... we sat down and ate. It was the last meal and the first.

“We bid farewell to the dead. We rebuilt The City of Silver Light. We welcomed New Children. We worshipped the Lady, because we had never worshipped anything else. Perhaps, wherever she was, our prayers would help her.”

Vrin took a deep sigh. “And then, our prayers were answered. They were answered with rage and fury. With pain and fire. Our Mistress did indeed return. This time, she appeared in her most terrible aspect, The Lady of Sharp Crystal, who had not been seen for over fifty generations. She purged the High Priesthood with the burning light when she learned that we had failed to protect the Child. She purged the Commanders. The Artisans. We feared she would purge us all.

“After the burning, she embarked upon a Great Building. Nonstop we worked. Almost two hundred of our sisters died before she was finished. Then came the greatest punishment of all.

“Three thousand of The White Elite were selected. Warriors, scientists, adjudicators, facilitators—none of the clans were spared. We were assembled and then marched through the One-Sided Door and exiled here, to The Shadow World.”

Vrin looked tired now. “Our only task is to search this wretched place until we find the missing child.” The other two Geisterdamen again gently stroked her shoulders. Vrin reached up and softly patted their hands. “We have been here... through fourteen winters now, with no one we could trust but ourselves.”

She released the other women’s hands and leaned towards Agatha. “Even if we found her, I... suspect we will never be allowed to return to the City of Silver Light. No one ever returns through the One-Sided Door, though many swore they would try. We will die here.” Suddenly, she straightened up and her gaze hardened. “But if we do succeed, our sisters back home may once again see The Lady in her Joyous Aspect, and once again live in happiness.”

Agatha paused, but that seemed to be the end. “There’s a lot of that I don’t understand.”

Vrin stood up, and a sardonic smile briefly crossed her face. “Hardly surprising. Apparently here in The Shadow World, one’s Gods rarely show up on a daily basis.” She glanced at the surrounding cell. “I cannot say I blame them.”

Agatha thought. “But what does—did Prince Aaronev have to do with all this?”

Vrin hesitated, and then shrugged. “In this world, the Lady was known to the people as Lucrezia Mongfish.” She paused, but Agatha resisted the temptation to interrupt.

Vrin nodded approvingly. “She had many allies. Some secret, some not. Prince Aaronev was always amongst the foremost of these. He was one of the leaders of a cabal of Sparks and their followers. All of them he pledged to Our Lady’s service. As a reward, he was entrusted with her most sacred devices.” Vrin paused. “He was really killed because of you?”

Agatha nodded. “He had placed me in some sort of machine. Anevka didn’t want it activated.”

Vrin shook her head. “I must confess,” she admitted ruefully, “I had never fully... trusted him. Apparently I did him a great disservice. I know that some voices in his Order grumbled at serving Our Lady. They claimed that furthering her agenda was not a part of their original charter or some such. With Aaronev gone, I do not know whether the Order’s loyalty will fade as well. Some embrace The Lady, but...”

She sighed and leaned back. “But his children are our biggest threat now. Anevka anyway. Tarvek is annoying, but spineless.” She looked around the cell. “It would be simpler to stay in here forever.”

Agatha puffed a lock of hair out of her face. “You may get your wish.” She waved the lockpick. “Any of you want to have a go at this?”

Vrin shook her head. “None of us are artificers. I think you’d have better luck giving it to your little contraption.”

Agatha sat back and looked at her. “That’s not a bad idea!”

She squatted down before the little clank, which looked at her curiously. She held up the lock pick. “Here! Can you use this to get out of here?”

She handed the tool to the clank. The clank took the pick and examined it with interest. Then it dashed over to an iron drain grate in the stone floor. It jammed the end of the pick under the grate and with a twist, popped it off the floor. Then, with a sound that sounded suspiciously like “wheeee”—it dropped down into the darkness, taking the lock pick with it.

Everyone looked blankly at the hole, but nothing happened. Vrin looked at Agatha reproachfully. “I wasn’t being serious,” she said.

At that moment, there was a “chunk,” from the door, which swung open. Standing in the dim light stood Tinka.

She stepped forward. “Mi—mi—Miss Clay must come—come—come with me now. Y—y—you others stay— stay here, please.”

Agatha and Vrin looked at each other. “The guards,” Vrin said carefully. “Where are the guards?”

Tinka’s head jerked towards her. “They—they are sleeee—sleeping.” Her head snapped back to Agatha. “Miss Clay wi—wi—will come with me n—n—now.”

Vrin nodded reasonably. “Of course. Eotain. Shurdlu. Smanga tik tik.”

With a sudden burst of speed, the two Geisterdamen bracketed Tinka and grabbed her arms. The mechanical girl swiveled to look at each of them in turn. “Oh. You—you—you are very fast.”

“Zoda hoy,” Shurdlu affirmed.

There was a bright blue flash and the two spider riders dropped senseless to the floor. Tinka snapped forward and her palm smacked against Vrin’s forehead and delivered another electric shock before the woman had taken two steps. As she collapsed to the floor, Tinka turned to Agatha. A thin wisp of smoke came from her outfit. “Now they—ey—ey will sleep too.” She stepped closer to Agatha. “Miss Cl—Cl—Clay will co—come with me now.”

Agatha nodded. “All right. But first...” She deliberately took a minute to lay the stunned Geisterdamen into more comfortable positions before she accompanied the mechanical girl out of the cell. Tinka paused to twist the key in the cell door lock.

Agatha saw three uniformed men, who were obviously guards, slumped upon the floor. Tinka went to the far door, looked out, and then beckoned Agatha to follow.

Despite Tinka’s jerky movements, they moved silently through the surprisingly empty halls. Earlier, there had always been a servant going somewhere or doing something, but now, it seemed like they were the only living things moving through the castle. Agatha regarded the Muse with a slight feeling of dread.

Agatha felt a rush of relief when they stopped at an ornate door and Tinka knocked softly. The door opened to reveal Tarvek, who beamed upon seeing Agatha. Tinka tried to perform a curtsey, but banged her head into the doorframe. “Hi—high—Highness. I—I—I have brought her.”

They stepped into the room and Agatha gave a start as she saw—“Moxana!”

The automaton gracefully nodded towards her. Tarvek practically clapped his hands in glee. “Yes! Isn’t she marvelous?” He gestured to the other mechanical. “Tinka went out of the castle, found your circus, and brought her back here—all by herself! It’s extraordinary!”

Agatha looked at the malfunctioning clank with mixed feelings. “Tinka and Moxana were always close.”

Tarvek nodded. “Having Moxana here will make repairing Tinka ever so much easier. Especially—” and here one could see that there was a very real possibility that Tarvek would combust from sheer glee—“She even brought me some of Van Rijn’s notes!” And to Agatha’s shock, he produced the battered folio that Moxana had given her.

“That was in my wagon!” she protested.

Tarvek ignored her. “I’m going to find the other Muses. I’m going to rebuild them all!”

Agatha turned to Tinka. “But,” she asked. “Why? Why did you bring him Moxana? Master Payne said you were stolen. These people damaged you.”

The mechanical nodded. “T—th—that was unfortunat—t—te. But soon all will be—be—be well. Because while