It was Blueskin. ’ ‘Mercy me,’ gasped the nun. " The knight staggered as if struck by a mortal wound. He wasn't sure, but he thought he saw a faint shudder stir her shoulders. At least the sun would not be as bright, which was a welcome reprieve from the mercilessly bright early summer days which had invigorated every man, woman, and child in the suburbs but were wearing Lucy down into acute fatigue, along with her hunger. Inside was the blue stone she had lost in the 1800’s.
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