So, I guess it’s official now: my story “Prayers of Forges and Furnaces” will be in Sean Wallace’s Mammoth Book of Steampunk. Kind of hard to describe that one–sort of Aztec meets the Wild West (I’ve always pictured it in some sort of post-Apocalyptic Mexico, in the northern deserts). It’s got the requisite mine, train network, and the lonely gunslinger (well, OK, not quite what you think, on any of those things). And robots, too, because they always make stories more fun! Set in the same universe as “Age of Miracles, Age of Wonders”.
The stranger came at dawn, walking out of the barren land like a mirage–gradually shimmering into existence beside the bronze line of the rails: a wide-brimmed hat, a long cloak, the glint that might have been a rifle or an obsidian-studded sword.
Xochipil, who had been scavenging for tech at the mouth of Mictlan’s Well, caught that glint in her eyes–and stopped, watching the stranger approach, a growing hollow in her stomach. Beneath her were the vibrations of the Well, like a calm, steady heartbeat running through the ground: the voice of the rails that coiled around the shaft of the Well, bearing their burden of copper and bronze ever downwards.
(and wow, will you look at that awesome TOC!)