“Or hitting me with sticks?”
André frowned. “Hardly. If I remember correctly, you told Master Payne that you could play anything with a keyboard?”
Agatha perked up. “Yes! He was asking me if I had any performance experience[20]. Lilith gave me lessons—ballroom dancing and piano, mostly. Sometimes, I got to play the big organ at Transylvania Polygnostic, too. And there was that accordion Doctor Vogel had hidden in his lab. He didn’t know we knew about it, but one time...”
André interrupted her. “And you’re a mechanic! It’s too perfect!”
They led her to the baggage wagons. “You’ll like this—we have a repair job for you! When that clank attacked, it completely smashed our calliope.” André untied a rope holding down a canvas cover and whipped it aside with a showman’s flourish. “Behold! The Silverodeon! Once the finest steam-powered music machine this side of the Carpathians.”
Revealed was a carved and painted cart that held an accumulation of scrap metal and twisted piping. Agatha could tell that this was the wreckage of some sort of musical instrument, but the damage looked like it had been caused as much by sheer neglect as by the clank attack.
“But... really? Agatha stepped up to the wagon and took a closer look. “I wouldn’t think it’s been played in years.”
André shrugged. “Ah, it just looks like that. We’ve discovered that if something appears too shiny and new, we run the risk of losing it to some damned princeling out for a new toy.”
Balthazar had said something similar. Agatha ran an eye over the circus wagons ranged before her. It explained a lot.
“But how can I fix this? That is, if I had the right tools, I think I could do it, but it’ll take more than basic cart repair tools for a job like this...”
Rivet grinned. “Ho! Tools I’ve got! Come on over here.”
Agatha turned to André. “I’m surprised you can’t fix it.”
He dismissed this with an elegant shrug. “Ah, while I know keyboards, I am, alas, no mechanic. Rivet here, while a fine mechanic, does not play. At the very least, I’m hoping you can get the basics sorted out before you leave us at Mechanicsburg.”
Agatha grimaced. “Well, I’ll try, but without a shop, without proper tools—”
They stopped beside Rivet’s wagon. It was covered in elaborate panels, which upon closer examination, Agatha noticed were actually cabinet doors. Rivet pulled out a ring of keys and began unlocking them and throwing them open one after the other, giving a proud little “Ta-dah!” with each reveal. Agatha watched this performance with growing astonishment. Within the cunningly-wrought cabinets were rack upon rack of gleaming tools, lovingly placed. Once all the doors were open, Rivet began fiddling with additional latches, unfolding and extending displays to reveal new wonders.
And wonders they were. Even some of the obscure tools she had only seen used in the most specialized labs at Transylvania Polygnostic were represented—often with a left-handed variant, and in a variety of sizes.
Delicate watch-making tools crafted from gold wire and ivory were a single rack away from a collection of monkey-wrenches that could have been used to uncouple the main fuel lines aboard Castle Wulfenbach. Tools constructed of everything from wood to what appeared to be tempered glass were artfully laid out around objects that even Agatha, with all her University experience, was having trouble identifying. Below the tools were what must have been hundreds of built-in drawers that contained nails, screws, bolts, and fasteners in a bewildering variety of shapes and sizes, with each compartment neatly labeled.
Agatha stood back and took in this immense collection of ironmongery. She now understood why Rivet’s wagon had to be pulled by a team of six draft horses.
“Sweet lightning,” she whispered. “This is an amazing collection. I don’t think the University has some of these!” She reverently picked up a locking wrench. “They’re beautifully made.” Craftsmen often constructed their own tools as an important part of their apprenticeship, but this collection ran across dozens of different trades.
Rivet nodded. “I find them out here in the Wastelands. Abandoned towns, crashed airships—you can find all kinds of stuff if you know where to look. I keep the best, rebuild and refurbish the rest. They’re good sale and trade items no matter where we go.”
Agatha picked up a curious piece that looked vaguely like a screwdriver. She depressed a small switch and the device began to vibrate in her hand with a high-pitched ululation. Nearby, a brass padlock sparked and fell open.
Rivet looked surprised. “Is that what that does? I’d wondered.”
Agatha carefully put the device back. “You’ll let me use these? With tools like these, I should be able to fix anything—anything at all.” Her voice was thick with admiration.
André grinned. “Wonderful! I will get you some paper, I’m sure you’ll want to draw up plans. Oh, and you’ll want to talk to Otto. He can configure his wagon engine so that it can run a lathe, mill or saw, anything you need.”
Agatha nodded, but she was only half listening. Her mind was already tackling the problem. Deep in thought, she wandered back to the old calliope.
Rivet watched her go, sighed, and began shutting up her wagon. It was a rather time-consuming operation. When she spoke, it was in a low whisper. “André, I just don’t understand what Master Payne is thinking. There’re plenty of real repair jobs I could use her on.” She glared at the music master. “Finest music machine east of my ass. That stupid old thing is just a wreck that Lars found. I was planning on stripping it for scrap.”
André sniffed. “Don’t be crude, it suits you all too well. You want her to help with repairs? Then by all means ask her. Master Payne said to keep her so busy she doesn’t have time to think.” He waved a hand to indicate Agatha, who was now atop the calliope wagon, resolutely tugging at a twisted pipe, “Voilà! It is done!”
Rivet hesitated, than sulked a bit. “But she’s going to mess with my tools.”
“Better to share your tools, than lose your neck.”
All Rivet had to say to that was a resigned “Harumph” and the conversation was over. Krosp, lurking behind a wheel, found this extremely frustrating.
At lunchtime, Agatha asked Zeetha: “How will Abner find us again? Haven’t we traveled an awfully long way since he’s been gone?”
Zeetha reassured her. “We’re in the same river valley, and we’re keeping to the old road. The caravan always moves pretty slow, and Abner’s a good woodsman when he has to be. I won’t start to worry about him for another week, at least.”
Even so, it wasn’t long after lunch that Agatha saw Zeetha walk off along the wooded road in the direction they’d come—and when, later that afternoon, Abner emerged from the woods atop a sleek chestnut stallion, Zeetha was trotting along beside him, grinning.
Gunter, the big man who was Balthazar’s father, saw them first and roared out a welcome that also served to alert the rest of the camp. Everyone dropped what they were doing and converged on the returning pair.
A dark-haired young man reached them ahead of the others, and grinned up at Abner. “Hey! You’re alive! And back quick, too!”
Abner laughed. “Sorry, Lars! You can’t rent out my half of the wagon just yet.” He patted his mount, who was eyeing the gathering crowd nervously. “For which you can thank this fine horse.”
Lars examined it critically, and nodded in admiration. “Wulfenbach’s people give him to you?”
Abner snorted at the thought. “Ha. I don’t talk that fast. I found him wandering loose near a campsite that had... well, it had been attacked by something.”
Instantly Lars went tense. “Attacked by something? By what?”
20
Professional traveling entertainers were expected to be able to sing, dance, juggle, tell jokes, and play several musical instruments. In addition, they were supposed to have some secondary side-show skill, such as knife throwing, fire eating, acrobatics, or being short. At any given time they had to be able to memorize enough material that the circus could perform two full shows, in excess of two hours, every day, for two weeks without repeating anything. Proficiency with weapons was also considered a plus. To join a quality show such as Master Payne’s, one would also need some non-entertainment skill that would be useful to the troupe, such as brewing, mycology, or picking pockets. But hey, it beat working.