Agatha H. and the Clockwork Princess

Lars sidled up to Kalikoff. “So, no offense, but the last time I saw you—” he made chomping motions with his hands.

The shorter man waved a hand airily. “Oh that.” He fished out a bizarre looking multiplex knife. “Thank my Official Sturmhalten Sewer Rat Knife.” He flicked his hand, and a screwdriver appeared. Flicked it again, and a small saw blade slid out. Once more, and a small sword clicked into place. A final snap, and they all slid back into place.

“Wow,” Lars breathed. “Where can I get one of those?”

Kalikoff shrugged apologetically. “Sorry man, you gotta be a Sturmhalten Sewer Rat. It’s a union thing.”

“I’ll join.”

Up ahead, Sturvin was studying his map, and frowning.

“So where are we?” asked Krosp.

“Not in a damn oubliette,” the plumber snapped, “So I’d say anywhere is a big improvement.”

Kalikoff chimed in. “I don’t know either.”

Ognian glanced out a window. “Hy s’poze ve could ask dem,” he pointed.

Below, a procession of Geisterdamen marched silently by. There were easily hundreds of them. Phalanxes strode eight abreast, escorted heavily-laden wagons being pulled by bizarre animals that were like pale wolves, but with a dozen glowing eyes. Interspaced between these were troops of the gigantic white spiders. All of the ghostly women were fully armed, either with their slim curved swords, tall, crescent-moon bladed spears, or both.

Ognian found a half dozen hands covering his mouth.

“Where are they going?” whispered Lars.

Kalikoff whispered back. “Some of the old records mention ancient caverns, down beyond the Deep-down. There’s supposed to be strange things living there—” he gazed at the passing ghost women. “I thought it was made up,” he sighed.

Sturvin gazed down at them. “Man, there’s gotta be hundreds of them. S’a damn army.”

“Dey’s actink like dey’s guardink sumting,” Dimo mused. “Sumting impawtent.”

Below them, several wagons containing machinery trundled past. None of the group could have been expected to recognize the components of The Other’s mind transfer device.

“So they had some sort of base under Sturmhalten,” Zeetha realized. “A good place to hide. No wonder no one ever knew where they came from. But why are they leaving?”

“The old Prince is dead,” Lars breathed. “I’ll bet he was their protector or something.”

Krosp was staring at the last wagon of machinery as it moved on past. “There’s something about that stuff that looks familiar,” he grumbled. “I wonder what it’s for?”

“Hy tink Hy know,” said Ognian in a strangled voice, “And in der Master’s name, keep qviet!”

The others looked back and shuddered into silence. A series of huge, misshapen creatures, larger than oxen and covered in spines and writhing tentacles, lumbered forward. Strapped to the wooden carts that groaned behind them, were a series of large glass and metal spheres, covered with softly glowing dials and gauges. Behind the thick glass, undefined shapes roiled endlessly within a thick, oily liquid.

A squad of Geisterdamen marched grimly alongside each one, and a single pale warrior stood atop each sphere, easily high enough to look into the windows of the gallery. Instantly the group flung themselves to the ground and huddled beneath the openings as the great mechanisms rolled on by.

“Doze iz Slaver Engines,” Ognian growled.

Lars spasmed in place. “Slaver—You mean like revenant wasps?”

“Ho yez.”

Maxim sidled up to Dimo. “Der Baron gots to hear ’bout dis,” he said grimly.

“Agreed.”

“Ken ve keep Miz Agatha out uv dis?”

Dimo gave a single, silent laugh. “Ask me ven ve find her. Eef ve effer gets out uv here.”

Maxim gave the green Jager a light punch on the arm. “Patience, brodder. Soon ve gets lucky.”

It was about a half an hour later. The procession had finally passed. The group had headed back up towards the way from which the Geisterdamen had come.

This had brought them to what could only be called a town. It was in a large cavern, stone facades and galleries were carved from the living rock, with the occasional incongruous wooden building. The rooms, as well as quite a lot of the rock wall, had been carved into sensuous, flowing designs, which had been painted in a variety of colors.

Most of the space seemed to be either communal living quarters or animal pens. A large central courtyard contained a fountain, which was adorned by a statue obviously representing a long-haired woman cuddling a child.

Ognian appeared at the entrance to the courtyard. “Okeh,” he announced. “Hy followed dem a lonk vay down. Dey din’t even leave a rearguard, and dey vas collectink all de lemps as they passed.”

Maxim nodded. “Voteffer dey din take, hit looks like dey burned.” He indicated a score of smoldering heaps littering the yard. “Hy dun tink deys cummin’ beck.”

Lars appeared. “Not only that, but it looks like any tunnel that might go upwards has been collapsed.”

“They didn’t collapse everything,” Sturvin said pointing upwards. Small holes could be seen in the ceiling. “The smoke from these fires is gettin’ sucked up somewhere.”

“Effen if ve got op dere, Hy dun tink ve’d fit.” Ognian scowled. “Mebbe ve better follow der Geisters.”

“That’s our last resort,” Zeetha retorted. “It looked like they were heading deeper underground, and we’re lost already.”

Sturvin agreed. “We are so off our maps.”

“Maybe we should just pick a direction,” Lars suggested, pointing to a number of dark openings. “I mean how big can these tunnels be?”

Maxim let out a guffaw. “Hey, Oggie? Remember de Unseen Empire?”

The other Jager’s grin lit up the darkness. “Yah! Dose guys vit der lava cannons! Jeez, dot vas vot—a hunnert years ago? Mebbe more...”

“Ve vas mit der Red Heterodyne den,” Maxim reminded him.

“Goot fighting!” Oggie remembered.

“Yah, but hit took uz two years to get outta dose caverns.”

“Two years?” Lars gasped.

“Vell, hit should have taken vun,” Maxim conceded, “But de Master, he develop a taste for bat sammiches.”

“Dot nut,” Ognian smiled wistfully.

“Hey!” Kalikoff called from another doorway. “Get over here! We found something!”

The “something” proved to be a large door. It was blocked off by a pile of broken furniture and other debris. “It was hidden behind all this junk,” Kalikoff explained. “But there’s a strong breeze coming from underneath it. I’m thinking it’s a way out that they closed off.”

Lars frowned.” All the other ways out they collapsed.”

Dimo grinned. “Jah, but dis schtuff haz been here qvite awhile. Hy tink dey pile dis schtuff up here an’ forgets all about de door.” He shrugged. “Dey used to lose rooms and guests in Castle Heterodyne like dot all der time.”

In short order, everyone had dragged away enough of the blocking material that Maxim and Ognian was able to drag the door open with a rusty squeal. Maxim wrinkled his nose. “Fregh! Veird schmell in here,” he reported.

The large stone chamber was filled with tall rusting metal pots, each of them easily two meters tall and several meters in diameter. The outer walls were coated with a layer of slime. Various tables and benches covered with bottles and dusty bits of machinery instantly identified the room’s purpose.

“Iz an old Spark’s lab,” Maxim said.

“You think so?” Lars eyed it skeptically.

“Ho yez,” Maxim assured him. “Hit’s got dot feelink uv bad krezy.” Lars looked at him. Maxim shrugged. “Hyu