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Zusatztext "Take a few of the Western world's best-known fairy tales, toss in a generous helping of gizmos and steam, and you get one of the most inspired mash-ups of the year...There are many thoughtful new spins on old favorites."— Publishers Weekly Informationen zum Autor Stephen L. Antczak Klappentext Combining the timeless fairy tales that we all read as children with the out-of-time technological wizardry that is steampunk, this collection of stories blends the old and the new in ways sure to engage every fantasy reader.... Inspired by Hans Christian Andersen's "The Red Shoes,” New York Times bestselling author K. W. Jeter's "La Valse” forges a fable about love, the decadence of technology, and a gala dance that becomes the obsession of a young engineer—and the doom of those who partake in it.... In "You Will Attend Until Beauty Awakens,” national bestselling author and John W. Campbell Award winner Jay Lake tells the story of Sleeping Beauty—and how the princess was conceived in deception, raised in danger, and rescued by a prince who may be less than valiant. The tale of "The Tinderbox” takes a turn into the surreal when a damaged young soldier comes into possession of an intricate, treacherous treasure and is drawn into a mission of mercy in national bestselling author Kat Richardson's "The Hollow Hounds.” In "The Kings of Mount Golden,” Hugo and World Fantasy Award nominee Paul Di Filippo tells the story of a young man's search for his heritage and a mechanical marvel that lies at the heart of a sinister pact in this fascinating take on "The King of the Golden Mountain.” ALSO INCLUDES STORIES FROM Steven Harper Nancy A. Collins G. K. Hayes Gregory Nicoll Pip Ballantine Leseprobe Father Brassbound followed Queen Perrault down the spiral stairs that led into the dank foundations of the Royal Palace of Talos. The door behind them was in the Lesser Rose Garden, a huge, rusted iron monstrosity set into the base of the Windhook Tower. To pass in three steps from the sunlit idyll of the ranks of polyantha to the mossy, shadowed coils of the stone bowels of the castle always disturbed him. “My lady.” He was nervous—the familiarity itself betraying Father Brassbound’s deep sense of uncertainty—“Why do we go below this day?” “Because,” she replied in a voice tinged with gentle exasperation, “I want to show you something.” “I am not so fond of laboratories,” the priest said. “My own forging was a painful, drawn–out process.” “We forge nothing this day,” the queen assured him. That they had managed to separate themselves from Queen Perrault’s scuttling crowd of maids, ladies–in–waiting, courtiers, and guards was itself something of a minor miracle. As Father Brassbound well knew, royalty was almost never alone. They were attended even in the privy, at least much of the time. Their most intimate moments took place within earshot of a valet, a ladies’ maid, and at least two guards. That she took this trip into the bones of the palace alone except for him was a momentous occasion. Momentous, and smacking all too readily of secrets. He did not like secrets so much. His God was not a god of secrets, though of course the church had its Holy Mysteries. But those were available to any man who took the right vows and swore to the correct loyalties. The queen . . . she was a woman of fierce intelligence and strong desires. Father Brassbound feared that in her. They soon debouched from the winding tunnel of the stairs into the barrel–vaulted expanses of this particular basement. The queen, carrying a lantern, adjusted some valves and pressed a button that caused sparkers all around the vast, damp space to echo like a battalion of iron crickets. “Lux fiat,” muttered the priest. “Indeed.” He could hear the tense smile even in the queen’s voice. The lights flared to life, ill...
