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Summary:

Stranded on an unfamiliar planet, a space explorer gets caught up in a time loop involving weird storms, a pegasus-like creature, and a not-quite princess.

Notes:

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It was a dark and stormy night. Again.

Betty Schafer groaned and reached up, automatically flipping on her headlamp for the third time. She’d thought this time, maybe she could get out of this nightmare. But no. As soon as she turned away from the village, hoping to take the second branching road, everything had reset.

And boom, here she was. Back in the thoroughly inadequate shelter she’d built for herself out of the remnants of her crashed scouting vessel.

The first time through this miserable night, she’d tried to hike directly in the opposite direction of the village. The second time, once she figured out that this was a time loop, she’d stayed put in her increasingly flooded shelter. And the third…

“Well, that was a bust,” she muttered, automatically reaching for her canteen. She picked it up, and sighed at the lightness. Right, right. It was empty. She’d refilled it after the start of the loop.

She shivered, nudged aside a battered metal panel, and stuck her canteen out into the downpour. So far, all the water on the planet had proved drinkable. She’d avoided drinking the rainwater when it was full of orange sparks, of course, but that only seemed to be related to the lightning.

Honestly, even with the crash landing and being stranded on an entirely unfamiliar planet, Betty had gotten lucky. Not killed on impact, crashed on a planet with breathable atmosphere…

Really annoying storms, though. And apparently time loops.

And she was running out of options. On loop two, the shelter had completely flooded before the night reset. She had to leave, but where should she go? There was a chance that some of the other scouts in orbit had gotten caught up in the same freak storm and crash landed, but no guarantee. And hiking out in search of them had only reset the loop.

Which left the village, and a whole different set of problems.

First problem? Crossing the desert, which was totally absent of plant life from what she’d seen. A slender river ran near the village, creating a floodplain that seemed to support crops, but everything else was sand, dirt, and rock. Or currently, mud. And sometimes puddles of orange glowing stuff, which was unsettling and cool at the same time.

Betty packed up her remaining rations, communicator, and scanner again. She almost forgot her translator—again—and swore as she shoved it in her ear. Then, rallying herself for the challenge ahead, she wrapped herself in a thick, water repellant poncho that she’d purchased from a skittish young traveling merchant.

The poncho served a much more important purpose than keeping off the rain. If she was lucky, she might be able to blend in, or at least pretend she was from a far off country on this planet instead of an alien who had crashed here.

She chose to believe she’d be lucky as she set off into the downpour, her headlamp barely piercing the sheeting rain. After all, the only person around here who had seen her in her spacesuit was the weird merchant who had sold her the poncho.

---

“I know, I know,” Eveline hissed as she coaxed Slate back under the rocky overhang. The young mount balked, digging his hooves in and flapping his wings. “I know you’re still not used to these kinds of storms, but please trust me. You very much don’t want to get hit by that bolt of lightning or the incidental magic.”

Slate gave her a baleful glare, his silver eyes wide and disapproving. He didn’t like cramped spaces any more than Eveline did. Back in the capital, he’d had his very own grassy paddock with a stream, a home as shielded from storms as the rest of the city. Here, Eveline could hardly convince him to either leave the sheltering caves or go back into them.

Especially today, when something had very clearly gone wrong with the world. Each attempt to get out of the area had failed, bringing Eveline and Slate right back here, to their argument about taking shelter.

Repetitions didn’t seem to be helping her poor zephyrscale cope with the storm. He was getting more anxious each time the night restarted. And no wonder—Slate was intelligent, but not enough to understand the nature of recursive time.

“Not that I’m any more useful,” Eveline muttered, pulling her protective amulet out from under her poncho. It was out of charge, which probably explained why the time recursion had started now. “I’ve read about the storms, yes, but…”

Experiencing them was different, unlike anything she could have imagined. And based on last repetition, she only had a handful of minutes under this shelter before the river overflowed its banks and flooded their cave.

Eveline peered out into the downpour, then jerked back. A hissing crack split the air, and a brilliant flash whited out her vision. Orange showered down after that, a threatening sizzle. Right on schedule.

As thunder followed the lighting, Eveline grabbed Slate’s reins and dragged him out from under the overhang. She leapt into the saddle and urged him up to a full run. It wasn’t safe to fly in this weather; Slate was suited to the gentle airs near the capital, not this ravaged atmosphere.

They rocketed through the night towards the village. So much for avoiding it. No other options were working, and at least the village might have a spellworker or someone who could help Eveline figure out how to break this curse.

There was no nearby help to be found out of the village, not unless she was very lucky. She’d only seen one other person in the last week, someone claiming to be a farmer. They’d looked even more suspicious than she did. A spy, probably. Regardless, not someone who would know how to fix this.

Rain lashed down, relentless, soaking through even Eveline’s water repelling garments and to her much more flimsy, expensive court finery. She ought to have changed into something better—well, worse—before fleeing, but there hadn’t been enough time.

The lights of the village glimmered ahead, and she urged Slate towards them. He loped up to the stable without guidance and bolted inside. Eveline barely managed to duck quickly enough not to be knocked off, but at least she’d beaten the lightning and accompanying orange shower this time.

“Stormy night,” the stable keeper commented without looking up from their book. “But you can’t stay here without paying. I have mouths to feed at—”

“Here.” Eveline shoved three silver coins at them. The stable keeper finally looked up, eyes widening as they took in Eveline’s outfit, the silks peeking out from under the poncho. “And here’s another. Don’t tell anyone I’m here, and please give my poor boy over there your finest fish.”

Eveline tried to tuck her finery more securely under the poncho as she rushed to the tavern, but it was largely futile. She tried harder anyway.

She shoved open the tavern door and slipped into the thankfully dim light. The small building was packed, locals happily chatting as they drank. A lute player sat near the fire, plucking away at the instrument as if this was an ordinary night.

Well. No one was acting like anything was wrong. Which confirmed her suspicions, but still—

The door opened again, and someone else stumbled in, swearing. Eveline looked up and saw the only person who looked even more out of place than she was, poncho not remotely hiding the silvery, unnatural fabric of a strange suit. The spy.

The spy’s eyes widened, taking in the finery still stubbornly peeking out from under Eveline’s poncho. And not only that—the spy was looking at Eveline’s protective amulet, which had swung out from under the sodden fabric as she ran. It was the one thing that could identify her.

“Hey,” the spy said. “You’re—”

Eveline shoved the spy aside and fled out of the tavern. She had to get out of here. To grab Slate, and just ride as far as—

Everything shifted around her, the world whirling. The vortex consumed the village, the desert, everything around.

And then it spat her back out by the rocky overhang, with Slate rearing up in protest at time resetting itself again.

“Oh, come on!” Eveline shouted into the storm, a sudden flood of tears rushing down her cheeks. “I just want to escape! Why won’t you let me escape?”

---

It was a dark and stormy night. Again.

“Dammit to hell!” Betty shouted, smacking the side of her shelter. The crunched metal of her ship creaked as if in protest at the outburst. “Now what am I supposed to do?”

She spent a few more precious seconds swearing, then closed her eyes and took deep breaths. Okay. Figure out what caused this. Make a plan.

Maybe it had something to do with that merchant. Well, “merchant”. Clearly something weird was going on with the girl. Her clothes and necklace looked almost as out of place in the village as Betty’s had.

More important than that, though, she was acting strange. Everyone else in the village had seemed totally unaware of the time loop. Maybe this girl was caught up in it too.

Well, finding her again stood as good a chance as any at fixing this. Determined, Betty filled her canteen, packed her belongings, and set back out into the raging storm.

Lighting blasted through the air, jagged streaks of brightness that set her teeth on edge. Weird orange sparks showered down to her left, by the strike location. This really was a weird planet.

Instinctively, Betty glanced around for tornadoes. They’d been common on her homeworld during storms—she’d hidden in her aunt’s basement once, and watched as the house above vanished—but there were no visible funnel clouds.

Of course, it was raining so hard that Betty could hardly see the ground in front of her, let alone the clouds. But she’d never believed in worrying too much about things that she couldn’t control.

Finding this strange girl, though? That might be something she could control. At least, if she didn’t get killed by lightning on the way there.

She didn’t get killed by lightning, but she did nearly lose a boot to the mud. Swearing, she yanked her foot loose and stumbled through the increasingly flooded area near the river. At least she was almost to the village again. And she knew where she was going.

As she stepped into the town square, something nearly ran her over. She yelped, jumping out of the way of whatever it was.

The creature reared up, hooves striking out. Despite the danger, she froze and stared at it in awe. It was built like a horse, but covered in blue-grey scales. And as it snorted and stamped, it spread out feathery wings to either side. And the mysterious girl was riding it.

“Whoa, cool!” Betty couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face; this was the most exciting thing she’d seen in five years as a scout. Her other missions were all on uninhabited planets. “Can I pet your… pegasus?”

The girl frowned at her. “What’s a pegasus?”

“Well, something like this thing you—”

Lightning cracked, and a shower of orange burst open above the village.

“Oh shit!” Betty bolted for the nearest open building, the pegasus thingy thundering along beside her. She twisted around once inside, pulled off her headlamp, and glanced back at the glowing orange on the ground. Seriously weird.

The building they were inside was less weird. All wood, with stalls and musty straw. A stable.

The mysterious girl shoved money at the startled stable keeper. “Here, more than enough for room and board. Please leave us.”

“Yes, my lady.”

Another flash of lightning split the darkness. Betty peeked back outside at the orange particles, falling like meteorites. If she didn’t know better, she’d think it was something magical. “What’s the orange stuff?”

“Magic,” the girl said, grimly.

“Oh.” Even more curious now, Betty tried to stick her head back outside despite the downpour. “What causes the magic?”

“Magicians.” With sudden violence, the girl grabbed Betty by the poncho and jerked her back inside. “What kingdom sent you? How did you recognize me?”

Betty gave her a baffled look, then gestured to the waterlogged fabric in her grasp. “Because you sold me this poncho?”

The girl’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t play games with me. Do you truly not know who I am?”

“Well, if I had to guess, you’re probably not a merchant.”

“No more than you’re a farmer.” For a moment longer, the girl just glared at Betty. Then she drew herself up, like a kid playing pretend. “I am Eveline. My father is the king of this country.”

“I am actually from a farm, originally,” Betty said, buying herself time to process the rest of the statement. Was this girl seriously supposed to rule somewhere? “So, what? You’re a princess who ran away from home?”

Eveline sighed. “Not exactly. It’s complicated.”

Poor thing suddenly looked very tired. Betty patted her on the shoulder. “Well, come on. Why don’t we sit down and eat something, and you can tell me about it? I have leftover rations.”

Honestly, it was a bad idea to share those rations. But Betty was starving, and Eveline looked like she could use a solid meal.

Eveline nodded and sat down in the straw, her pegasus thing nosing at hay in a tub. “You’re not entirely wrong. I did run away from home. But I’m not a princess—I’m a bastard, the King’s bastard.”

“Ohh.” Old fantasy stories struggled for dominance in Betty’s head. “And now, due to unforeseen circumstances, are you inheriting the throne? Or is someone trying to kill you?”

“What kind of an absurd question is that?” Eveline backed away, expression suspicious again. “And why am I talking to you anyway? For that matter, why are you aware of the time recursion? Did you curse me?”

Betty instinctively bristled, then forced herself to relax. Sure, she was stranded on an alien world with no hope of ever escaping, but this kid seemed to be in way more trouble than she was. “I definitely didn’t curse you. I don’t know anything about it. But as for your first question… I’m guessing you’re talking to me because you’re lonely.”

“I have Slate,” Eveline said, defensive.

The pegasus thingy looked over at the sound of its name, and it took all of Betty’s self control not to jump up and try to pet it. “And does Slate have any useful advice for how to fix whatever your problem is?” she asked, pulling protein bars from her pack.

Eveline gave a weak laugh. “No. I’m afraid not. But that still doesn’t explain why I should trust you. For all I know, you really are a spy.”

Betty glanced down at her outfit, the silvery spacesuit sticking out from under her poncho. The one that Eveline had seen before there was a poncho, mission patches, rank insignia, and all. “If I was a spy, do you really think I’d have this bad of a disguise?”

A tiny smile twitched onto Eveline’s face, and she looked over her own terrible disguise. “I suppose not. Who are you, then?”

Betty hesitated. Technically, she wasn’t supposed to disclose the truth to anyone. But then, she was on a planet with actual magicians, standing in a stable with a not-quite princess and a pegasus thing. And she, too, was lonely. “I’m an explorer. From space.”

Eveline’s eyes widened, and she gasped. “You crashed here during the breach, didn’t you?”

“The what, now?”

“The breach! It’s… a problem. This whole area has magical instabilities. A week ago, just after I got here, there was an eruption that breached the atmosphere.”

“Ah.” The freak storm that took Betty’s ship down had been orange too. She sighed, resigned. But at least now she understood what had happened. “Okay. Yeah, I crashed during the breach. Pretty stuck here, so I might as well help you out if I can.”

Besides, she’d always wanted adventure. And what greater adventure could there be than helping a not-quite princess break a curse?

---

Eveline studied the space traveler, distracted from her own problems for once. Being stranded on an unfamiliar planet must be so much worse than being expected to officially join the court.

“You can pet him,” Eveline said as the space traveler—Betty—glanced longingly at Slate again. “He’s very friendly.”

Betty was on her feet in an instant, silver boots slipping on the straw as she approached the zephyrscale. She held out a hand, and Slate sniffed at it. “He’s beautiful. Is he yours, or did you steal him?”

“I wouldn’t steal!” Eveline’s cheeks warmed as she glanced at their ponchos. “Well, I would. I stole most of the things I called ‘merchandise’. But Slate’s mine. I’ve had him his whole life.”

Betty gave her a teasing smile. “Privileges of being a princess?”

“I’m not a princess.” Tired, Eveline took a bite of the food that Betty had shared with her. It was very sweet, alarmingly so. “At any rate. I’m supposed to be back in the capital, being formally inducted into court now that I’ve come of age.”

“Ahh. And why aren’t you doing that?”

“It’s complicated.” Dislike of court politics, a desire to see the world. Among other things. “Anyway, I ran, and someone put a curse on me. By someone, I mean my aunt.”

Betty gave her a curious look, still stroking Slate’s scaled forehead. “I thought you were worried that I did it.”

“No, it was likely my aunt. She’s a powerful magician, and is very fond of putting curses on people that are only broken by them ‘finding what they need’.” So far, the night hadn’t reset. Which meant that Eveline must be close. She drew her amulet out from under the poncho. “This has been absorbing the curse, but it ran out of charge just after dark.”

“When the time loop started,” Betty said, thoughtful. Then she frowned. “Wait, but how did I get caught up in your curse? No one else around here seems affected.”

Eveline’s mouth went dry, and she swallowed hard. There was no point dodging the issue now. “You were right, about me being lonely. And someone without any real friends… well, joining the court officially limits my social circle. It would be even lonelier. I didn’t want to do that.”

Frowning a little, Betty tilted her head. Then she nodded briskly. “Okay, so. What you need to break the curse is a friend.” She sat back down and grinned. “And since I don’t have anyone else in the whole universe who I’m close to, I’d say I’m a good candidate.”

Eveline stared at her, breathless. Could it really be that easy? “But don’t you want to get back to your people?”

“Well, it doesn’t seem like they’re eagerly looking for me. Scouts are pretty expendable.” Betty shrugged one shoulder, still smiling. “If they do show up someday, I’ll figure out what to do then. But I like trying new things, and I’ve never been in a real, official court before. Sounds exciting.”

Eveline found herself grinning, the heavy burden lifted for the first time in months. Court politics wouldn’t be so bad if she had someone to share them with. And an outsider, someone without any preconceptions about bastards, would be a refreshing change of pace. “If you tell me about the world you’re from, I’ll see what I can do about getting you your very own ‘pegasus’.”

A clear, lighthearted laugh burst from Betty. She grabbed Eveline’s hand and shook it. “You have a deal.”

---

It was a dim and dreary morning, clouds forming a heavy blanket across the sky. Occasional sparks of orange still drifted down, extinguishing themselves in puddles.

But it was morning, finally, and Betty tilted her head back to study the welcome light glowing behind the clouds. It seemed that becoming Eveline’s friend really had been the solution to breaking the curse.

She savored the fresh air a moment longer, the rich scent that came after a rain. Different here than on her homeworld, but terrific. So much more real than recycled air on the cramped ships where she’d spent most of her life.

It had been a long night, the storms raging until shortly before dawn, but a long night well spent. She and Eveline had talked for hours, sharing stories of their worlds, getting to know each other. Their life experiences were nothing alike, but they fell easily into conversation. And a friendship that started off strongly enough to break a curse was a friendship destined to be successful, in Betty’s opinion.

She ducked back into the stable. Eveline was feeding Slate another fish, eyeing him worriedly. “I hope he’s up to the trip. I didn’t want to travel with him until he had a longer rest, but I want to get out of this area before the storms start up again.”

“We’ll both walk and take it easy. You’ll be fine, buddy.” Betty scritched the cool scales. “So. How are you planning to introduce me to court?”

Eveline chuckled as she did a final check on the buckles of Slate’s saddle. “A traveler from far away, I think. Half the court will suspect you of being a spy no matter what I say, of course. Especially once I find you some suitable clothes.”

Smiling, Betty glanced down at her thoroughly failed disguise. “Well, it won’t be the first time someone thinks I’m a spy.”

Together, they set off into the gloomy light of day. Chatter flew back and forth as they slogged through the mud, the conversation coming as easily as it had before. And although Betty was still stranded here, far away from home, she eagerly anticipated her new life. For one thing, she had a friend now. And for another, Eveline said that strong wards protected the capital from storms. Soon, there would be no more rain.