Clockwork Fairy Tales: A Collection of Steampunk Fables by Stephen L. Antczak, James C. Bassett
Authors: Stephen L. Antczak, James C. Bassett
Ads: Link
the glittering trove and picked out a fortune for himself in silver and gold coins and gold nuggets with which he filled his pockets.
At last he picked up Morton’s device and returned to the room where the shaft had first deposited him. He saw no sign of the dogs on his way, but he could hear the generator in the far room humming and a clanking sound that reminded him that at least one fell guardian was back up and feeling its mechanical oats.
“Morton,” he called up. “Throw down the rope.”
“Do you have the music box?” Morton demanded, peering over the edge from his perch on the branch.
“Of course I do,” he replied. “Lower the rope and I’ll give it to you.”
“Toss up the music box first.”
The soldier had no intention of doing so, but before he could say so, he heard the clanking and sparking of a great machine coming toward him. Looking back, he saw the two smaller dogs racing toward him. In the distance, he thought he could hear the grinding of the larger one making its way through the tunnels as well.
“We’ve no time for these games,” the soldier shouted back. “The hounds are coming and I doubt I’ll hold them off for long!”
“Throw me the music box and I’ll let you up.”
There was no time to reply, for the first of the mechanical beasts was upon him. The soldier kicked at it, sending the smallest of the beasts skittering across the stone floor, but it righteditself and turned to come back. The soldier slammed his finger onto the button of the emitter, but this time it only gave a squeal and a click and the dog faltered, but the fire in its eyes remained alight.
The second dog now dashed at him, its dreadful jaws agape. He threw the emitter at it. The hound snapped it up like a biscuit and ground it between its metal teeth, staggering a moment as the box crushed in its mouth, spewing out a final, dying pulse of light. The soldier tore off the goggles and leaped up, using the stunned dog as a stepping-stone, and scrambled upward to grab at a rubber loop that hung from the bottom of the air shaft. The dog shook itself awake again and snapped at the dangling soldier, who swung his legs up into the shaft, but couldn’t find enough purchase at such an angle to wedge himself into the pipe. Thus his legs swung back down.
Now the first dog returned to the fight, making mighty jumps the larger dog could not assay and snapping at the soldier’s dangling boot heels. It bit into one and ripped the boot from his foot as it fell back to earth, growling and savaging the leather as it would, no doubt, savage his body if the soldier fell.
The soldier pulled the music box from his pocket and waved it in the light of the air shaft for Morton to see. “Pull me up, damn it, man, or I’ll throw this to them next!”
Wide-eyed, Morton finally tossed down the knotted end of the stout rope. The soldier, breathing hard, shoved the music box back into his pocket and swarmed up as the chamber below him shuddered and rang with the sound of the third dog breaking past the narrow doorway.
As he pulled himself out of the false tree stump, a gout of dust and a frustrated roar from the throat of the third dog rushed upward behind him. He tumbled over the edge and barely caught the branch to stop himself falling to the ground.
Morton, still perched on the branch, stared at him and put out his hand for the music box. “Now, the box, my friend, or I’ll shove you back in.”
The soldier hauled himself up onto the branch and locked hislegs around its girth. “To the devil with you, you miserable, lying swine! You never meant to let me up, but to leave me to die below.” And he grabbed the inventor and heaved him, headfirst, into the air shaft.
Morton screamed and plummeted down the pipe, lodging for a moment head-down before his screeching was cut short. The soldier looked away, not caring to see what work the hellish hounds would make of him, but the sound alone was gruesome enough to raise the
At last he picked up Morton’s device and returned to the room where the shaft had first deposited him. He saw no sign of the dogs on his way, but he could hear the generator in the far room humming and a clanking sound that reminded him that at least one fell guardian was back up and feeling its mechanical oats.
“Morton,” he called up. “Throw down the rope.”
“Do you have the music box?” Morton demanded, peering over the edge from his perch on the branch.
“Of course I do,” he replied. “Lower the rope and I’ll give it to you.”
“Toss up the music box first.”
The soldier had no intention of doing so, but before he could say so, he heard the clanking and sparking of a great machine coming toward him. Looking back, he saw the two smaller dogs racing toward him. In the distance, he thought he could hear the grinding of the larger one making its way through the tunnels as well.
“We’ve no time for these games,” the soldier shouted back. “The hounds are coming and I doubt I’ll hold them off for long!”
“Throw me the music box and I’ll let you up.”
There was no time to reply, for the first of the mechanical beasts was upon him. The soldier kicked at it, sending the smallest of the beasts skittering across the stone floor, but it righteditself and turned to come back. The soldier slammed his finger onto the button of the emitter, but this time it only gave a squeal and a click and the dog faltered, but the fire in its eyes remained alight.
The second dog now dashed at him, its dreadful jaws agape. He threw the emitter at it. The hound snapped it up like a biscuit and ground it between its metal teeth, staggering a moment as the box crushed in its mouth, spewing out a final, dying pulse of light. The soldier tore off the goggles and leaped up, using the stunned dog as a stepping-stone, and scrambled upward to grab at a rubber loop that hung from the bottom of the air shaft. The dog shook itself awake again and snapped at the dangling soldier, who swung his legs up into the shaft, but couldn’t find enough purchase at such an angle to wedge himself into the pipe. Thus his legs swung back down.
Now the first dog returned to the fight, making mighty jumps the larger dog could not assay and snapping at the soldier’s dangling boot heels. It bit into one and ripped the boot from his foot as it fell back to earth, growling and savaging the leather as it would, no doubt, savage his body if the soldier fell.
The soldier pulled the music box from his pocket and waved it in the light of the air shaft for Morton to see. “Pull me up, damn it, man, or I’ll throw this to them next!”
Wide-eyed, Morton finally tossed down the knotted end of the stout rope. The soldier, breathing hard, shoved the music box back into his pocket and swarmed up as the chamber below him shuddered and rang with the sound of the third dog breaking past the narrow doorway.
As he pulled himself out of the false tree stump, a gout of dust and a frustrated roar from the throat of the third dog rushed upward behind him. He tumbled over the edge and barely caught the branch to stop himself falling to the ground.
Morton, still perched on the branch, stared at him and put out his hand for the music box. “Now, the box, my friend, or I’ll shove you back in.”
The soldier hauled himself up onto the branch and locked hislegs around its girth. “To the devil with you, you miserable, lying swine! You never meant to let me up, but to leave me to die below.” And he grabbed the inventor and heaved him, headfirst, into the air shaft.
Morton screamed and plummeted down the pipe, lodging for a moment head-down before his screeching was cut short. The soldier looked away, not caring to see what work the hellish hounds would make of him, but the sound alone was gruesome enough to raise the
Similar Books
