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

would call piston-leg men. This miserable wheel has got us smoked.”
    Rivet nodded. “We could use another competent mechanic around here anyway.”
    Pix spoke up. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
    Reluctantly, Agatha agreed. “Yes, I’ve got to get to Mechanicsburg.”
    Rivet once again looked at her blankly. “So what’s the problem? We’ll be performing at Mechanicsburg in a month or two. Big cheese festival.”
    Agatha turned to look at Pix. “Really.” Pix rolled her eyes.
    Rivet continued, “Oh yeah. And in the meantime, you’ll actually earn—”
    “Rivet! Shut! Up!”
    All three of them stared at Pix. Kadiiski frowned. “What is your problem of the sudden?”
    “The problem,” a voice boomed from behind them, “Is that this Miss Clay cannot travel with us.”
    Agatha turned and stared. Before her stood one of the largest men she had ever seen, followed by several other members of the troupe. A quick reassessment and she realized that while he was tall, he wasn’t exceptionally tall, and while he was heavy, he wasn’t excessively fat, it was just that he… loomed large. This, she realized, was a man who filled the space he was in, whatever that space happened to be. He had a broad face framed by a mane of wild reddish brown hair, as well as a full beard and moustache. His eyes were magnified in a mesmerizing way by his small, thick spectacles.
    He wore layer upon layer of waistcoats, each adorned with pockets, piping, buttons and chains, none of which matched. The whole ensemble was enveloped by a huge, elaborate coat covered with embroidered stars, moons and comets. At his throat was a family sigil badge, which, strikingly, was completely blank.
    The man’s voice matched the rest of him. It was solid and booming, and in this instance, grim. It was a voice which allowed no argument.
    He addressed Agatha: “Miss Clay, I am Master Payne. I am sorry I must be so blunt. You did us a favor by returning young Balthazar, and we are grateful. But this is my circus, and I am responsible for the safety of the people in it. For that reason, our roads must diverge here.”
    Captain Kadiiski looked at Agatha, puzzled, then turned back to Master Payne. “What is wrong with her?” he asked.
    The circus master made a chopping motion with his hand, signaling an end to any discussion. “She is on the run from Baron Wulfenbach. Her reasons are her own, and I do not wish to know them. But even ordinary townsfolk might be punished simply for aiding her.” He fixed an eye on the mechanic, “And we have our own concerns, as you well know.”
    The Captain stepped back unhappily, and several of the other circus members glanced at each other nervously. Payne turned back to Agatha. His face was sympathetic, but his voice remained firm. “We don’t want any trouble from The Baron, Miss Clay. We will forget that we ever saw you, but that, and wishing you luck, is the best that we can do.”
    They all looked at her. Agatha took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “I do understand,” she said quietly. “I’d better leave right away. Krosp?”
    She looked around. The cat was not to be found. Suddenly, they heard a great yowling intermixed with swearing, and the intense young woman in grey leathers came around the corner, holding a thrashing Krosp by the scruff of his neck. She was furious.
    “It ate them!” she screamed. “It ate my entire herd of mimmoths!” Every word was punctuated by a serious shake. “It took me a month just to get them to wear their little costumes! Mr. Honk had just learned to do the peanut trick! And this flea-riddled thing ATE them!”
    “Sorry!” the beleaguered cat wailed.
    The trainer froze. She stared at Krosp. “Did you just talk?”
    The cat’s eyes swiveled to Agatha and then back to his captor. “Yes?” he ventured.
    She briefly considered this, and shook him again. “Not good enough!” She declared. “But when I’m done with you—”
    Master Payne