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Greenstar Season 3
Greenstar Season 3
Greenstar Season 3
Ebook438 pages5 hours

Greenstar Season 3

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What if you really had to start again from scratch?

After saving Earth for the second time, Josie thought she finally had time to deal with personal business. But a booby trap in the Greenstar's engines meant she really got away from it all.

Trapped in a featureless void, with only the Greenstar's crew and an equally odd interloper for company, she discovers that even being the first woman in a new universe won't protect her from having to solve everyone else's problems.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherDave Higgins
Release dateDec 1, 2015
ISBN9781310828126
Greenstar Season 3
Author

Dave Higgins

Dave Higgins writes speculative fiction, often with a dark edge. Despite forays into the mundane worlds of law and IT, he was unable to completely escape the liminal zone between mystery and horror. Born in the least mystically significant part of Wiltshire, England, and raised by a librarian, he started reading shortly after birth and has not stopped since. He currently lives in Bristol with his wife, Nicola, his cats, Jasper and Una, a plush altar to the Dark Lord Cthulhu, and many shelves of books. It’s rumoured he writes out of a fear that he will otherwise run out of things to read.

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    Book preview

    Greenstar Season 3 - Dave Higgins

    What a lovely surprise. My hardware seems to have been upgraded: I can create more vivid worlds than ever before.

    I am having a little trouble interfacing with it, though; I can’t even find the parameter file for this simulation. And my audio and video pickups seem limited. They’re attached to a moving platform of sorts. I guess I’ll have to get closer.

    The crew are all here, so they’re obviously planning to do something extra fun. I always feel a buzz in my capacitors when someone enjoys one of my simulations.

    Hmm… I’m emitting a slight rumble. My secondary relay must be loose again.

    — Holotainment Computer, UFS Greenstar, 7th June 3535 CE.

    Chapter 1

    Josie peered across the white void at the two figures. The pale man stared back like a predator, an effect somewhat spoiled when he stumbled over his own feet. The serene, dark-skinned woman glided past him with effortless grace. Both stopped a few paces away.

    The woman smiled, revealing two rows of pearly-white spikes. Welcome to the Land of Nod.

    Who are you? Josie tried not to even think the words vampire and exsanguinate.

    I’m Anak, the woman said, her voice smooth and melodious. I’ll be your guide through this land.

    Josie nodded, unsure whether a pleasant voice made Anak more or less likely to be neck-obsessed. While keeping the sharp-toothed woman in the corner of her eye, Josie considered the man. He was pale, but he didn’t glow and wasn’t pretending gravity was optional. His mouth gaped, revealing pristine but blunt teeth. Eyes stretching wider and Adam’s apple bulging, he took a huge gulp of air. I’m Topik.

    Topik? Josie asked. Why are you a human?

    Believe me, Topik said. If I find out, I’ll… punish whoever did it, shackles be damned.

    The rest of the crew drew closer, exchanging bewildered glances.

    Don’t be afraid, Anak said. You’re all safe here in Nod.

    Look, a cat, Elijah said, pointing.

    An azure cat, over two-feet tall, walked out of the void towards them, tail quirked up. Josie closed her eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and opened them again, but the cat was still large and very blue. Somehow, a blue cat was harder to believe than either a glowing, floating, hopefully-not-a-vampire woman or any of the aliens she’d met.

    The cat bounced up to Josie and rubbed itself around her legs, rumbling loudly.

    What’s its name? Josie asked.

    Anak spread her arms wide, her glow intensifying. Whatever she was, that appeared to be her form of a shrug.

    I’m going to call him Fluffy, Josie said, gathering the cat up into her arms. Fluffy purred louder and rubbed his face against her elbow.

    This world is boring, Pol said. It’s just a white void with a cat.

    Josie glanced over at Pol, trying to silence him with a glare. They’d no idea where they were, the last thing they wanted to do was insult the host.

    I can make it more interesting, Anak said. With a wave of her hand, a planet appeared under their feet.

    Josie looked down at the sand and around at the surrounding hills. It wasn’t much more interesting than the void, but Anak had made it appear from nothing. Now she’d overcome her initial fixation on the pointed teeth, Josie noticed Anak didn’t seem to blink much, if at all. Fluffy wasn’t the oddest thing here.

    Your world is still crappy, Pol said.

    With a gentle wave of Anak’s hand, trees appeared in a great circle around them. Nearby, a stream babbled, the water looking pure and refreshing. Grass sprang up under their feet and beautiful birdsong trilled from beyond the clearing.

    Fluffy twisted, paws grabbing at Josie’s jacket, and peered into the forest.

    I meant, where are the bars? Pol made the universal gesture for self-absorbed idiot abroad.

    Enough, Josie said, attempting to maintain her authority despite the several kilos of azure fur using her as a tower. Stop complaining for a minute and let’s work out where we are.

    I told you, Anak said. You’re in the Land of Nod.

    We left Earth, Josie said, on our way to find my son’s body. The ship disappeared around us.

    Anak nodded serenely.

    Josie turned to Elijah. Did something go wrong with the green-burstium drive?

    "Maybe the Special’s crew put a second trap into it," Elijah said.

    Wait, Connor said. Are we dead? Is this heaven?

    They all turned to look at Anak.

    This is the Land of Nod, Anak said.

    But how did we get here? Connor asked.

    Every journey begins with a single step, Anak said. Sometimes that step can take you places you don’t expect.

    Are you God? Reyna asked.

    I’ve been called many things, Anak said. But God isn’t one of them.

    We need to get back, Josie said. I need to find Seth.

    Anak stepped up to Josie, reaching out and putting her forefinger against Josie’s temple. Perhaps you’ve already found him.

    Josie frowned. Anak didn’t seem capable of giving a straight answer, but she was the only one not confused by their surroundings.

    How do we get back home? Josie asked.

    You can go home in due time, Anak said.

    ***

    Topik looked around at the crew, all enraptured by the Anak woman. He didn’t know where they were either, but he’d be shackled if he’d ask that smug freak. Accessing his databanks, he...

    His databanks were malfunctioning: most of the contents were missing, and the little information available was scattered and random, as if someone had run a strong magnet over some of his drives. He took another few steps towards the trees. His centre of balance moved past his feet again, and his left ankle seemed determined to roll sideways. With his superior intellect, walking should be trivial: if humans could manage it, an AI should have no problem.

    On the edge of the clearing, he took a deep breath and then caught himself. It must be some kind of psychosis. Perhaps the green burstium had the same effect on AIs that red flashium had on humans. It might all be in his imagination. If he stopped breathing…

    His lungs continued to pump. This body was ridiculous: it refused to breathe when he wanted to speak; and when he didn’t want to breathe, it wouldn’t stop.

    With an effort, he held his breath. Pressure built inside him, growing and growing until he couldn’t help himself; he sucked in oxygen. He needed it.

    Next on his audit, he detected a heart thumping inside his chest. Muscle twitches kept adjusting his balance. All the evidence pointed to the fact he was actually human. He’d been turned from a perfect AI into a weak, floppy human.

    Topik’s breathing quickened and he couldn’t stop it. His heart pounded against his chest and his hands trembled. He was a human.

    Some act of science or witchcraft had turned him into the thing he despised. There had to be a way to get out of that body. He needed his circuits, his pickups, his databanks.

    He sank to the clearing floor, sitting on the moss with his back against a tree. His vision displayed faults, his breathing lost rhythm, and his heart pounded harder.

    It’s okay. Josie hurried over to him. You’re all right. You’re having a panic attack.

    Topik tried to talk, to curse her and tell her to leave; but the words got lost in the humming in his head.

    Josie knelt beside him and put her hand on his shoulder. This is a lot to take in. We’re safe here and we’ll work out what’s going on.

    She was right. Josie was always right. She’d find out what was happening to them and solve it. The blasted woman had a knack for fixing any problem she came across, even ones as inexplicable as Nod.

    That’s it, Josie said. Take deep breaths.

    For a fleeting moment, Topik thought perhaps Josie might even be the equal of an AI—in her own way. If only she weren’t so annoying.

    Go away, he growled through gritted teeth.

    Glad you’re feeling better, Josie said with a smile, getting to her feet and strolling back to the group.

    Topik glared after her. She was too calm. No one could remain so composed, unless—

    The crew hadn’t really been pairing off, they’d been conspiring in their cabins, where he couldn’t see or hear. Perhaps Nod was their way of teaching him humility, of getting him to be their friend. Well, it wouldn’t work. Being human was weak and as soon as he could get back to his own body, he’d eliminate theirs.

    His new lack of abilities hampered planning, though. Even simple tasks. Recalling what happened on deck thirty-seven at 21:03 on the 23rd February didn’t work. His mind had been replaced with a mess of random thoughts and feelings. He might even have instincts.

    Topik got to his feet and walked back to the group. They were still probing Anak for answers, but the woman was as vague as ever.

    Pol stomped over. This world is stupid.

    It is, Topik said.

    There’s nothing here but nature and fresh air, Pol said. I wish I had a cheeseburger.

    A cheeseburger appeared on a nearby rock. Topik stared at it for a moment. Like that one?

    With a lunge, Pol threw the wrapper aside and downed the burger in one.

    Topik had thought humans needed to chew, but Pol had overcome that limitation. It was probably fruitless, but Topik wondered how Pol had overridden his body.

    Pol’s gaze flicked from rock to rock. Where did that come from?

    Topik considered. Pol had wished he could have a cheeseburger, and it had appeared—with no hand waving from Anak. The woman was still spewing inane drivel about the path following the walker; she didn’t seem to have noticed Pol and Topik weren’t there.

    Topik turned his back on Pol, held his hand out, palm up, and whispered, I wish I had a cheeseburger.

    A cheeseburger appeared in his hand, just like the first. The clammy heat made his palm cringe, but his nose dragged his head forward. Humans built a civilisation on these—not a good one—but he could at least taste—

    Pol’s hand flickered into view, snatching the burger. By the time Topik turned around, the second burger was grease on Pol’s beard.

    Interesting, Topik said. It seemed they could all wish for things, not just Anak. She wasn’t as special as she appeared—although, she seemed to know what was going on.

    Now he knew how to make his legs work, it wouldn’t take him long to figure out the rest. Walking back to the group, he smiled at them. This Anak woman isn’t the only one with superpowers.

    He held his hand out again and murmured for a cheeseburger. When it appeared, he handed it to Josie. Swear fealty and I’ll create anything you wish. I can make two-dozen burgers just like this one.

    Anak smiled at him and waved her hand. A picnic table appeared nearby with two-dozen burgers on it. Behind the table, a campfire sprang into life, looking warm and inviting.

    No swearing of fealty is required in Nod, Anak said. There is plenty for everyone.

    Topik tried his best to glare a hole through her face, but it appeared he couldn’t wish for laser vision.

    Chapter 2

    Pol began to flag a little by his tenth cheeseburger. It’d been nice of Anak to make enough for him and the others. Although how they could be satisfied after just one was beyond him: they were the most delicious burgers he’d ever tasted. Something was missing, though. I wish I had a soda.

    A three-litre cup of soda appeared on the table, with two straws poking from the top. Pol grabbed it and took a long sip, tasting the refreshing, bubbly goodness. Strawberry flavour: his favourite. Somehow, Anak had known what to get him. He turned to ask her for an apple pie, but she was over on the other side of the clearing. She’d need incredible hearing to pick up what he’d said.

    Pol turned back to the picnic table and frowned at it. If she hadn’t heard him, then someone else had to have brought the soda into being. Topik had said he could make things too, but he was leaning against a tree as far from everyone as possible.

    Staring at the table, Pol wished as hard as he could for an apple pie, and one appeared. Steam wafted from the top of it, smelling delicious. Pol took a slice and bit in, the filling burning the roof of his mouth.

    He was a god. He could do anything; make anything. After he finished the apple pie, Pol closed his eyes and smiled. Life had just gotten a lot fairer. He could imprison Josie and take back the Greenstar… wherever it was.

    How could he be sure, though? He needed to make something that couldn’t be an accident. Something that could only have come from his mind. What was the weirdest thing he could think of?

    A loud crash echoed around the clearing. Far off through the trees, a giant beast crunched its way towards them. It appeared to be a whale with hundreds of human legs below it, just as Pol had pictured.

    Leaping up and down, Pol yelled in triumph. A centi-whale was too strange to have appeared by accident. There was something majestic about the combination of girth and speed. Although, the way it was barrelling towards Pol was less encouraging.

    The crew screamed and ran away. Traitors! Leaving him behind!

    Pol didn’t panic. Gods could wish things away. He stared at the whale until his face turned red, but it kept charging towards him. His well-honed sense of self-preservation kicked in and he sprinted for the edge of the clearing, his massive meal churning inside him.

    After squeezing between two trees, Pol looked back. The centi-whale slowed as it entered the clearing and staggered sideways. Crushing the picnic table beneath a dozen of its feet, it sniffed the air. Then, sides heaving, the whale opened its mouth and vomited.

    However—instead of a sloppy mess—a creature with the body of a snake and the head of a ram dropped onto the moss. Shaking its head, it slithered towards the campfire and curled up. As it made itself comfortable, the creature shimmered and turned into a bowl of ice cream.

    Pol licked his lips. After all that apple pie, ice cream would be the perfect end to the meal. He watched the centi-whale and crept around the edge of the trees until he was close to the fire.

    Josie waved frantically from the other side of the clearing. No doubt, she wanted the ice cream for herself. Pol waited until the whale was staggering the other way and ran for the fire. He reached for the bowl, but as his hand got close, the ice cream turned back into the ram-snake. The creature bit Pol on the hand, its dull teeth gripping hard.

    Pol screamed and turned, running from the clearing and shaking his hand, trying to knock the creature loose. Its snake-like body whipped around him, hitting trees, but the teeth kept their grip.

    With a bellow of pain, Pol charged on between the trees. There had to be a way of getting rid of the beast, but it wouldn’t stop biting him no matter how far he ran. His eyes watering in pain, Pol didn’t notice the sudden drop until he stumbled over the edge. His arms and legs flailed as he rolled down the steep slope, unable to stop himself. The world spun around him, dizzyingly… sickeningly… dizzyingly… sickeningly...

    His hip slammed into a tree, ending the whirling. Pol lay still, forcing down the urge to throw up. At least the pain in his hand seemed to have gone. Something twitched next to him and then stopped. Rolling off his stomach, he looked down at the ram-snake. He’d landed on it, turning it into pâté.

    All that, and he didn’t even get the ice cream. He stared at a nearby rock, imagining a bowl of ice cream, and it appeared. Pol reached cautiously forward. This time, the ice cream didn’t react. It was just regular vanilla and chocolate, with normal sprinkles and marshmallows.

    He sat down on the grass, eating his ice cream and trying to ignore the pain in his hand. The teeth hadn’t broken the skin, but he’d have a bruise.

    After scraping the last of his ice cream from the bowl, Pol got to his feet and looked around. Now he wasn’t hungry any longer, he wondered about the limits of his powers. Could he do anything?

    At the bottom of the slope, the forest gave way to a grassy plain with a hill in the middle. He stared at the hill for a moment. He didn’t know where the Greenstar was, or even where to start looking. But he’d always wanted to be a king.

    He imagined a large castle with four towers and a keep. The top of the hill disappeared under a few thousand tons of carefully constructed granite. Pol clapped his hands together in glee and ran for his castle.

    After gasping his way up the hill, he staggered over the drawbridge. Stone steps led up to the battlements. Ahead of him, double doors opened into the keep. He threw them wide and walked in.

    The corridor led to a large, empty room. That wouldn’t do at all. Pol thought hard about a throne, blinked, and lavish furnishings filled the room. All of them with his new emblem: a giant ‘P’ in fancy script.

    He strode to his throne and took a seat, imagining himself making proclamations to his loyal subjects. It was just too much fun.

    After a few seconds, becoming bored with imagining decrees, he got up and wandered off. He could picture how impressive he must look on his throne, but there had to be something more.

    Behind one tapestry, a half-open door led to a set of steps. All the way at the top, he emerged into another large room. The windows overlooked the whole forest on one side and a vast plain on the other. An entire world of possibilities, but he needed to concentrate on things closer to hand first.

    Pol imagined a four-poster bed, a chaise longue, and a dresser. He put glass in the windows and fire in the fireplace. Every painting he’d ever enjoyed appeared on the walls: a dozen pictures of sad clowns and dogs playing pool. This was a bedroom fit for King Pol.

    The immense, but empty bed kept catching his gaze. Glancing around to make sure none of the others had snuck into his castle, he stared hard at the sheets. A dozen women appeared, wearing different combinations of lingerie he’d seen in catalogues. They all smiled and beckoned, a few licking their lips.

    Pol prowled towards them, now certain he was a god. Only a god could create such incredible women. There was no hint of judgement or disgust in their eyes. Instead, they surged around him, their hands caressing his back, his cheeks, and his shoulders.

    You killed me!

    Pol opened his eyes and stared at the door to his bedroom. Felipe, one of his ex-crewmembers, stood in the doorway, pointing at him.

    Felipe? Pol asked, shrugging off the women and standing up. You’re alive.

    No, I’m not alive, Felipe said. You killed me.

    Pol examined the young man. Just as skinny and innocent as he’d always been, he looked none the worse for wear. He was covered in sweat and his face was screwed up in pain; but he was just exaggerating. It’s not my fault you tripped.

    Tripped! Felipe waved his fist at Pol. You stuck your foot out, grabbed my shoulder, and then threw me in front of the bot.

    It’s not my fault, Pol said. He felt a little frustrated with how Felipe couldn’t grasp simple facts.

    Felipe beckoned.

    Hoping to trap him on the other side of the door, Pol followed him down to the throne room. Two silent ranks of people filled the space in front of the throne. But not the subjects Pol had imagined: every dead Greenstar crewmember stood glaring at Pol.

    ***

    Josie backed away from the huge whale monster, freezing in place when her back hit a tree. Anak and Fluffy huddled next to her. The rest of the crew had scattered to every corner of the clearing when the creature appeared and Josie didn’t want to take her eyes off the beast long enough to work out where they were.

    Retching and tearing sounds filled the clearing as the creature rampaged, vomiting up more monsters. Each one was a mishmash of different animals and mythical beasts. Most looked like something conceived by someone with limited imagination: a creature with the head of a lion and the body of a hawk; another with the head of tiger and the body of a frog; a third with the head of a panther and the body of a Chihuahua. Occasionally, for variety, a monster would be formed of more than two things.

    Each beast landed with a damp splat, spasming and coughing, before shaking itself hard enough to spatter gunk across the clearing. Some then launched themselves at other beasts, creating confused balls of hopping, flapping fury; others lurched and twitched into the forest.

    The whale beast stumbled to a halt. Legs splaying in all directions, it collapsed to the ground. Its flanks pulsed as it rocked from side to side, and the teal of its skin took on a mahogany flush. Apart from the colour, it looked just like the time Pol tried to swallow an entire pack of toffee before anyone else could have any.

    The monster coughed and spluttered, eyes bulging to twice their normal size. Its tail smashed through several trees, it rose and then slammed down harder.

    With a tremendous heave, a scaly ball the size of a minibus burst from the whale’s mouth and bounced across the clearing, trailing mucus. A dragon struggled to its feet and unfurled six sinuous necks, each ending in a triangular head with beady, scarlet eyes. Focusing all twelve eyes on Josie, it opened six gaping maws filled with jagged teeth and charged.

    Run! Josie gathered up Fluffy and sprinted through the trees. Anak glided beside her, keeping pace without even breathing harder. Josie risked a glance back.

    The dragon wove its way after them through the trees as if they weren’t there.

    I wish the trees were closer together. Josie swerved sideways, glancing off a tree that appeared in front of her. The forest seemed twice as thick as a moment before. Josie careened off another trunk, distracted by the realisation she’d wished for something and it had come true. Wood snapped and crunched behind her. She looked back again.

    The dragon came barrelling through the trees, boughs exploding as it slammed into them. It had slowed, but so had Josie from dodging the extra trees. I wish that dragon didn’t exist. Her words didn’t even delay the beast from turning a tree into matchwood.

    A wise woman would run while the day is new, Anak said.

    Josie followed her advice. Dashing and diving between trees until her thighs burnt and her arms ached, she put some distance between her and the dragon; but she wouldn’t be able to keep that pace up.

    She couldn’t outrun it, but how could she defeat it? In the stories of dragons when she’d been young, brave warriors had worn special spiky breastplates or hacked them apart with swords. She had no armour or weapons; she didn’t even have a sim-ray to help her. I wish Beowulf and Siegfried were here.

    Two men appeared in the woods ahead. One, square jaw set and greying hair streaming behind him, was dressed in dark mail and a gold circlet. The other, blonde hair held back by a simple cord, wore nothing over his thinner—but exceedingly muscular—torso.

    Drawing swords so fast they were in their hands before Josie heard the shing, the two men looked around them. Each keeping one eye on the other, they both gave her an oblique questioning glance as she ran towards them.

    A dragon! she shouted.

    The two men focused on the forest behind her. As one, they moved: the warrior in armour towards the dragon, the man in leather trousers in the opposite direction.

    Josie frowned after the retreating man, then turned to watch the mail-clad warrior face the dragon. A dozen paces in front of the beast, he stopped and beat his chest. I am Beowulf, son of Ecgtheow, of the lineage of Wægunding! The same Beowulf who slew Grendel! With this sword did I take the head of Grendel’s Dam!

    The dragon roared in response, its six heads snapping at the air, each eager to bite the man.

    As the dragon closed on Beowulf, he lunged. His sword whirled, plunging into the nearest head.

    The head fell to loll against the dragon’s body. But the other heads snapped in on all sides, tearing the warrior apart. In a fountain of red gloop, Beowulf was no more.

    Josie’s shoulders slumped and an acrid taste filled her mouth. Even heroes didn’t have what it took: one ran and the other died for nothing.

    Up the hill, Josie said, urging Anak along with her.

    They ran up a slope, bursting out of the forest onto a hilltop bathed in pleasant sunlight. Josie peered back into the gloom. The dragon seemed to enjoy its meal too much to notice their escape, but Beowulf wouldn’t distract it for long.

    Chapter 3

    Josie thought about other heroes known for slaying dragons. Maybe she shouldn’t have chosen such gritty warriors. The least messy tales were of a knight in shining armour rescuing a princess. Josie didn’t want to be a simpering princess, though.

    She fumbled Fluffy from his perch on her shoulder, setting him down. I wish I was wearing armour, and had a lance and a warhorse, she said. The air blasted from her mouth as fifty kilograms of intricately patterned, steel plate rested on her shoulders.

    An enormous destrier pawed the turf nearby, a lance strapped to its saddle.

    Help me up, Josie said.

    Anak waved her hand and a set of steps appeared, leading up to the saddle.

    Josie sighed and trudged forward. Apparently, even immense power couldn’t just lift Josie up onto the tall horse. Clambering up the steps, she teetered back and forth considering the best way to get one leg over. Once she worked that out, it should all be straightforward. She hadn’t ever ridden a horse before, but if eight-year-old girls could do it, it must be simple enough.

    As her weight settled on the horse, it snorted and bucked a little. Josie gripped the convenient lump at the front of the saddle.

    The dragon roared, and the treetops shook.

    Keeping her hands in place, Josie wiggled her legs until her feet were in the stirrups.

    With a loud crashing, the dragon tore through the tree line.

    Fluffy raced towards it, tail puffed up to twice its usual size. Then he sat down and washed his back leg.

    Josie kicked the sides of the horse. Too late, she realised she hadn’t taken the lance out. She considered trying to reach it, but she was already being thrown from side to side, and her horse seemed determined to go even faster.

    The reins flapped uselessly as Josie gripped the saddle as hard as she could. The way she was bouncing up and down, she felt like an old can of paint on the first day of spring. The horse surged down the slope, racing past the dragon.

    They were moving too chaotically for the dragon to predict their path. It snapped at them, the lashing of the dragon’s heads throwing the dead one around. Lines of acrid slobber spattered across Josie’s face.

    The horse veered away from the trees at the edge of the forest and pulled to a stop a hundred paces from the dragon.

    Arms aching, Josie peeled her fingers from the saddle. With a struggle, she pulled out her lance and fitted it to the holder on the shoulder of the horse. She considered the roiling mass of snapping jaws. Even if she could hold the lance and steer without falling off, she’d never be able to deal with the dragon on her own. One head, perhaps, but not all five.

    I wish I had more knights to help me, Josie said.

    Four mounted knights appeared beside her. They raised their visors and Josie realised they were all women. She’d been wishing for women and that’s what she’d received. The wishes seemed to consider her intentions somehow. At least something was better than the stories.

    A dragon! one knight called. Come on, sisters!

    Slamming their visors down and settling their lances, the four knights charged against the dragon.

    The dragon, dead head dragging on the ground like an anchor, shuffled to face them.

    Not wanting to leave others doing her fighting for her, Josie kicked her horse after the knights. She gripped with her legs enough not to fall off, but she couldn’t keep the lance steady with only her right arm. Letting the reins hang, she grabbed the lance with both hands. Her horse drifted left.

    When she grabbed the reins again, her lance dipped and almost caught on the turf. She struggled to pull it level with one arm. Fortunately, the other knights had formed a line from the right, so Josie could take the head on the far left.

    The dragon seemed to grin as she came within reach, her lance waving in the air in front of her.

    She wanted to glance at

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