Colonel Phrónēsis only knew two kings back home. One was a fellow dwarf. The other a solar elf. But flipped over on the table before him were three kings, and

I remember it as if it were yesterday. In fact, it was yesterday. Or so they tell me. At precisely ten-fifteen in the morning, my Alaskan sled dogs had barely

The shuttle kissed the face of the planet with a soft hum. The ramp lowered to the grass, and four short figures descended, the warm afternoon sun glistening off their

“Borolax! For the fifth time now! Answer the bell!” His eyelids lifted like the sunrise. Not that there was one. The horizon was a black sheet with pinpricks of white.

The room was black. The walls draped in sticky gray webs. It crawled with eight legs and a million eyes. A dirty metal ball rolled across the floor. More eyes