Read Online Clockwork Fairy Tales: A Collection of Steampunk Fables by Stephen L. Antczak, James C. Bassett - Free Book Online

them. The bend at the top of his staff hadn’t seriously hurt him, either. Vasyl wheeled Broom like a little pushcart ahead of him and followed Petro, wholimped toward the wall and barely paused at the corner to turn the angle and right himself. Behind and above them, Baba Yaga stormed over to her floating forge, muttering and cursing all the while. The workroom door refused to shut for them, so they were forced to leave it open when they went back into the kitchen.
    “I
said
you were screwed,” Maroushka said from the table.
    Petro stared, and Vasyl made a fast introduction. “We should figure out what to do about Olena.”
    “The little girl outside? She’s fine for now. Out there it’s still the same night you boys came in. It took Olena nearly four hours of our time to say the entire password. Tesseract, yeah?”
    Petro collapsed onto a bench. His muscles sagged and his head bowed. “Then we have time. A little.”
    “Petya.” Vasyl parked Broom and gingerly sat next to the other man. “Petya, I’m so sorry.”
    “Sorry?” Petro said to his clenched fists. “
Sorry?
”
    “For bringing you and Olena into all this.” Vasyl had to force himself to keep talking. “For not listening to you. And for…the other thing.”
    “Well,
I’m
intrigued,” Maroushka said.
    “You bastard,” Petro whispered in a tone that crushed Vasyl like paper. “How can I believe you did this to me?”
    “I’m s—”
    In a lightning move, Petro grabbed the front of Vasyl’s shirt and hauled him face-to-face. “If you say you’re sorry again, I will ram your balls up through the roof of your mouth.”
    And then he was kissing Vasyl. Vasyl stiffened. Petya was
kissing
him. It wasn’t happening. It couldn’t happen. It was wrong and evil and it was the very thing he had been wanting ever since he had first met Petro all those years ago, the exact thing he had never been able to admit to anyone or to himself, but this terrifying and impossible place allowed the terrifying and impossible to happen. Petya’s mouth was warm on his, and his unshaven cheek rasped against Vasyl’s, and his arms were strong around Vasyl’s neck and back. Vasyl whimpered softly as something broke free inside him and he pressed himself against Petya, held his warm,hard body against his own. His soul rose and twisted beyond metal walls, and Petya’s rose and twisted with him, trailing like a pair of comets in the sky.
    “Why didn’t we ever do that before?” Vasyl asked when they parted.
    Petro shook his head. “You know the answer to that.”
    There was a pause, and then Vasyl asked, “How long?”
    “Always, Vaska. On the first day we met, you listened to me. You made me feel wanted and…special.”
    Vasyl closed his eyes for a moment. “All those years wasted.”
    “Not wasted.” Petya kissed him again, then pressed his forehead against Vasyl’s. “I wouldn’t have Olena.
We
wouldn’t have Olena.”
    “I was so jealous when you married Irina.” Vasyl leaned into him, put his arm around him. It still felt impossible, but Petya was here, solid and real. He smelled faintly of coal smoke and dark bread. “But I kept my mouth shut and smiled at your wedding.”
    “Like everyone tells a good friend to do,” Petya agreed. “And then you decided to get married, like everyone tells a man to do.”
    “I hate to break a romantic moment,” said Maroushka, “but you guys still have a honking big problem. Once the old lady gets her machinery reset, she’s going to suck Petie-boy’s brains out and put ’em into that old broom—or she’ll eat Vasyl. And probably Olena, too.”
    Petya went pale, and resolve filled Vasyl. He got to his feet. “No. We’re ending this. Tonight. Now.”
    “Sure, yeah, whatever.” Maroushka yawned. “Let me know how that turns out.”
    Vasyl opened Broom’s control panel and swiftly pushed the faulty memory wheels back into place, then rooted through cupboards and drawers until he found a wrench