Agatha H. And the Clockwork Princess by Phil Foglio, Kaja Foglio

anywhere, who’s even heard of this Skifander.”
    Agatha puffed a lock of hair up out of her face. “I see. That explains her reaction.” Agatha thought a moment. “I wish I knew more, but my uncle never said where Skifander was. He just told stories about it.”
    Olga stood. “But at least you’ve heard of it. Most of the others—” she glanced around. “Well, I think at least some of the others think she was just making it all up. And… Zeetha can tell. That really wears on her. You see how she is.”
    At this moment, Pix rounded the corner of a wagon. “Agatha!” she called out. “Master Payne is ready to see you!”
    Olga stood. “Ah, I’ve got to pack. Nice meeting you.” She took Agatha’s hand. “I’m so glad you’ve heard of Skifander. It’s been bothering her so much. Even if you don’t know anything else…well… thank you for that.” Olga turned with a wave and vanished back into her wagon.
    Agatha turned to Pix, and the two set off together. Pix looked sideways at her curiously. “You’ve really heard about Zeetha’s Skifander?”
    “It was years ago,” Agatha admitted, “But my uncle traveled all over. He talked about it like it was a real place.”
    Pix digested this. “And where are you heading?”
    “Mechanicsburg.” Agatha replied.
    “Ah. The home of the Heterodynes. That’s quite a way. You have family there?”
    Agatha considered this. “That’s what I’m going to find out.”
    Pix nodded. “Your best bet is to head west.” She gestured over the trees. “Do you have a compass?” Agatha shook her head. “Oh, well, I’ll bet we can find one for you to take with you easily enough. I’ll ask around before you go.”
    Agatha nodded. A sinking feeling began to grow inside her chest. It didn’t sound like they were going to let her stay.
    A shrill mechanical squeal filled the air. Next to them, a wagon covered in garish gear designs rocked to a halt, wobbling slightly as it balanced upon a single, central wheel.
    A diminutive woman with dark skin and a grimy leather mechanic’s coverall swore and threw a large wrench to the ground. “What the hell is it now?” she screamed.
    Agatha stepped up and cleared her throat. “Excuse me, but that noise means that your gyro gear needs repacking.” The woman gave her long, blank, stare, but an older man, seated at the wagon’s controls, slapped his thigh and laughed heartily. “Aha! See? It is as I told you!”
    The woman frowned and turned away from Agatha in irritation. “Ah, what does she know?”
    Agatha bristled. “I know that it’s a Duchy of Blenshaf Gyro Wheel,” she said frostily. “Your wobble plate is loose, and it also sounds like you’ve neglected to replace the sponge dampers. Probably because you can’t find new ones. They’re hard to get these days. You can make an acceptable replacement out of horse dung and straw. And from the way your wheel is spalling, it’s obvious that that you don’t have the correct formula for tread gunk.”
    The short woman turned back, all traces of annoyance gone. She regarded Agatha with interest. “You know Gyro Wheels,” she stated.
    Agatha nodded, slightly mollified. “My dad was a mechanic. We saw these all the time.”
    The man in the driver’s seat was grinning. He had fair skin, bleached yellow hair, and a wide jaw. When he grinned, it covered a fair amount of his face. He also had a mechanical forearm and hand which he raised, pushing back his cap. He leaned forward. “Say, if you are going to being sticking around, would you want a working job?”
    Agatha blinked. “What?” Behind her, Pix grimaced in exasperation and covered her eyes with one hand.
    “I am Captain Kadiiski. Me and Rivet—” He indicated the woman, who gave her a friendly nod, “We have the dubious honor of being the poor, put-upon mechanics for this noisy collection of divas and geeks. But I must admit, with some small embarrassment, that the Lady Rivet and myself are what you