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The Reader and Peregrine now found themselves in a marble hall surrounded by the (frankly quite scary) Lords and Ladies of the Star Houses.

The situation was grim. Sagittarius’s arrows had been stolen. The culprit, without a doubt was Doctor Socks, and the fact that he had been in the heavens at all, seemed to be the Reader and Peregrine’s fault. At least that is what the Stars all seemed to be saying. Even more alarmingly, as far as they were all concerned, it was up to the Reader and Peregrine to go and sort it all out. Failure was out of the question:

‘Those arrows are man’s aspirations, hopes and dreams,’ said Sagittarius, archly. ‘Without them, you earthlings face a cold bleak future of folly and despair.’

Castor and Pollux, the twins, nudged the Reader and said encouragingly, ‘Oh, don’t mind him, he always talks like that.’

‘A right barrel of laughs,’ muttered Peregrine to the Reader.

‘So much for a night out in Space, eh?’ muttered the Reader back. ‘What now?’

 

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