Free Agatha H. and the Airship City by Phil Foglio, Kaja Foglio Page A

mouth. Moloch and the doctor were at his side instantly.
    “Omar?” Omar’s head whipped from side to side twice, froze in position, and a deep final breath rattled from him as he sagged back into stillness. Moloch knew he was dead even before the doctor checked his brother’s pulse and then drew the sheet over his head. In the silence, the sound of something hitting the floor echoed through the small room with unnatural loudness. In death, Omar’s hands, which had been clutched for hours, had relaxed, and Agatha’s locket had dropped to the floor.
    The doctor reached down, examined it briefly, and handed it over to Moloch. “I’m sure it gave him some comfort.” Moloch looked at him blankly, the locket clutched in his hand. The doctor continued, “I myself don’t know whether the Heterodyne Boys will actually come back someday, but I do believe that we should live our lives as if they were. People like your brother, who try to make the world a better place, do so by the very act of trying. I’m sure the Heterodynes would have been proud of him.”
    Moloch looked woodenly at the locket and then back at the doctor, who changed the subject as he donned his hat and greatcoat. “I’m afraid I must be going. Now listen up, soldier. I’m confining you to this room. I’ll have a medical disposal team up here before dawn for your brother. You can relax, our Dr. Beetle doesn’t permit unauthorized resurrectionists in this town. You’ll be fed and examined for the next week and after that you’ll be free to go. So sit tight soldier, and we’ll do our best.” And with that he slipped out and shut the door behind him.
    Moloch grimaced. “Reckon Omar and me have seen your ‘best.’” He turned to glare at the sheet-covered form. “You idiot!
    Your last act on earth is to steal from a townie and leave me stuck holding the evidence waiting for her to report me. That’s making the world a better place, huh? Leaving me stuck like a sitting duck!” In his fury he threw the locket against the wall where it smashed open with a bright blue flare and the sounds of gears scattering. A smell of ozone filled the room and brought Moloch up short. “What the…?”
    He bent down and gingerly picked up a few bits of the locket. It had contained a pair of portraits, a handsome-looking man and woman. But hidden behind the portraits were the smashed remains of delicate machinery. Machinery that Moloch was totally unfamiliar with.
    He muttered as he gathered together the bits from the floor. “Too complicated to be a watch. Not a music box. I’ve never seen anything like this…” A chill swept over him. “This is madboy stuff.” He examined it again. “But what did it do?” He raised his eyes and found himself looking at Omar’s body.
    With a cry he leapt back, scattering bits of locket across the floor. After a moment, he gingerly picked up the larger pieces and examined them again, to ascertain that it was indeed broken. Of this there could be no doubt.
    “This is what killed Omar,” he muttered. “He started acting strange right after he stole it from that girl…” A new thought emerged. “The girl! She was wearing it and it wasn’t killing her . She must have… turned it on, somehow. She knew it’d do him, the black-hearted—wait! Wasn’t there a note?”
    He turned the locket over and indeed there was lettering engraved upon the back:
    If found, please return to Agatha Clay Clay Mechanical Forge Street, Beetleburg. REWARD

    Moloch grabbed his greatcoat and slung it on as he left the room. “A reward, huh? I’ll give her a reward a’right, and she’ll be making no reports when I’m done with her either.”
    Agatha was very small. She ran into a large room filled with tools and machines and things that she didn’t understand, but knew were full of magic, mystery and excitement. At the center of this collection sat the master of the magic, her uncle Barry. He was a large shadowy figure hunched over a