by Perrin Briar
“So what?” Bryan said. “Just leave it here. We only need to get into the caves and find the Passage. Then we can get out of here.”
“While the kids are still in the town, in the tallest tower?” Zoe said.
“Good point,” Bryan said. “What do you suggest we do?”
Neigh!
It was a nervous chattering sound, punctuated with solid thumps on a thick door.
“The horses,” Zoe said.
They ran to the castle’s stables and found the horses inside. They were stirring, nervous with the approaching monster.
“We should let them out, don’t you think?” Bryan said.
“We’ll lead the dinosaur away so it won’t bother these horses anymore,” Zoe said. “We just need two horses. Let’s see…”
She moved along the line and found what she considered to be the two best horses in the stables. She opened the stable door and put her hands to the first horse, a large black stallion. Lord Maltese’s own horse. She calmed him down. He grunted against her hands, but soon quietened. Zoe led him out of the stable and put his saddle on.
“You take him,” Zoe said.
She prepared a beautiful brown gelding for herself—the same she’d ridden several times already. It was calm at the sight of her. She climbed on.
“Now what?” Bryan said.
“Now we lead the dinosaur away,” Zoe said.
“How?” Bryan said.
“You’ll get its attention first and lead it out of town,” Zoe said. “I’ll head out now, close to the woodland where we first entered when we got here. By the time you get to me, I’ll be rested and ready to run. Then the dinosaur will chase me.”
“Like a relay race,” Bryan said. “But what do we do with the dinosaur in the end? We can’t just get it to chase us all the time.”
“We won’t need to,” Zoe said. “Is your trap still set up from when you tried to capture it before?”
“Yes,” Bryan said.
“Then that’s what we’ll lead him toward,” Zoe said. “He’ll spring the trap, and he’ll be caught.”
“Wait,” Bryan said. “I just thought of something.”
“I guessed that at your exclamation of ‘Wait’,” Zoe said. “What is it?”
“What makes you think the dinosaur will even chase me?” Bryan said. “There’s plenty around here for him to eat.”
Zoe had the audacity to smile.
“Because a predator never forgets prey that escaped him,” she said.
Bryan thought back to the crazy, near-mad look on the dinosaur’s face when the family had made it to the town. It had been murderous…
And now Bryan was about to put himself on the menu.
Zoe kissed Bryan on the lips.
“See you in a bit,” she said. “Be careful.”
She smacked her gelding’s rump and they shot forward into the street. She took a hard left, in the opposite direction to where the dinosaur was.
“Be careful!” Bryan said.
He shook his head and chuckled to himself.
“That’s a laugh,” he said.
49.
AARON COMPLAINED, but there was little he could do. They needed to get to the top of the roof, and besides climbing up and destroying it by hand, there was no other way of doing it. Luckily, Aaron was on board. He was the one with all the ideas.
Aaron surveyed the equipment and half-built inventions lying on the floor and strewn across the tables. Piles of items in various stages of the creative process.
Aaron snapped off some of these pieces, and attached it to another piece, before winding it all off with the thick wire and rope. He worked on autopilot, having already memorized where all the pieces were.
I have got to get my memory into better shape, Cassie thought. But that was an idea for later. If there was a later. First she needed to get to the roof. Now was her time to shine.
Aaron handed what he’d made to Cassie. She was the sporty person, the action hero. She looked at what he’d handed her. It was a length of rope with a long stick threaded sideways.
“What’s this for?” Cassie said. “It looks like something a trapeze artist would use.”
“It’s for you to throw over the tower,” Aaron said. “It’s wide so it’s easier for me to catch, and I can brace it on this side of the window in case you fall.”
“Got all bases covered I see,” Cassie said.
“You never know,” Aaron said.
Cassie approached the window, while Aaron crossed to the opposite side.
“Ready?” Cassie said, holding the stick in one hand and the length of rope in the other.
“Wait,” Aaron said.
He cast about and identified what he was looking for: a large net that reminded Cassie of a dreamcatcher. Aaron snapped it off and moved toward the opposite window, holding the net outside.
“Okay,” he said, nodding to Cassie.
“Here we go,” Cassie said.
She would throw it too high, she decided. It was better to get it over the roof than to get it stuck on something. She stood on the window’s ledge, bracing herself with the hand holding the coil of rope. She moved her arm up and down, judging the distance and how hard she needed to throw the object.
She pulled her arm back and released the stick. It looped up high, as high as Cassie had been able to throw it, but she knew the moment it had left her hand that the angle was off.
“It’s not going to come down directly at you,” Cassie said. “Sorry.”
“Which side do you think it will come down at?” Aaron said, looking out of the window and trying to see where the stick was.
“On your right,” Cassie said.
Aaron held his net out, preparing to catch the weight. There was a thud on the roof, and then a sliding sound like something was skidding across the roof tiles. A few of the tiles came loose and fell into Aaron’s net, passing through the gaps and falling to the ground below. Cassie hoped the holes wouldn’t let the stick pass through too.
Cassie’s rope had ceased unspooling. The stick was up on the roof somewhere. And then it began unwinding again. That was a relief. She would have had to have pulled the rope back and tried again.
“Here it comes!” Cassie said.
Aaron had to lean over at an extreme angle out of the window in order to be within reach of it, utilizing his legs as placeholders. The weight tried to drag him over, but he held on and pulled back.
“Got it?” Cassie said.
Aaron grunted, not saying a word. He gradually pulled himself back inside, inch by inch. Cassie wanted to dash forward to help him, but doing so meant letting go of the rope she held in her hands. She couldn’t risk losing it.
Aaron pulled himself back inside and held the stick in his hands.
“I’ve got it,” he said, mildly out of breath.
Aaron turned the stick sideways so it was supported on both sides of the window. He picked up more sticks and wound them around the rope, securing it and making it stronger. It was a load-bearing weight and could easily take Cassie’s weight.
“Well, here we go,” Cassie said.
She gripped the rope and was about to climb when Aaron picked up a length of wood—what look like the leg of a polished coffee table—and handed it to her.
“What’s this for?” Cassie said.
“You didn’t intend on smashing the antennae with your hands, did you?” Aaron said.
“Good point,” Cassie said.
She took the makeshift cudgel and attached it to her belt. She turned to the rope and began to pull herself up. After the adventure in the snake’s nest, her muscles had grown strong. She reached up and pulled herself onto the roof with ease.
Now she was on the roof, the antennae—if that was what it was—was within swinging distance. She crouched to lower her center of gravity and edged toward the statue. It was a beautiful thing. It seemed a shame to smash it to pieces. But that was what had to be done. She raised her weapon to begin
her reign of destruction.
SMASH!
It hadn’t come from Cassie swinging her weapon, but behind her. Something had caused a great deal more damage to a building on the other side of the castle wall than Cassie could do over the course of weeks, and it had done it in seconds. She stood frozen, her arm raised, and slowly turned to look out the corner of her eye at the creature behind her.
It was the T-Rex. And Cassie was at perfect chomping height.
Cassie froze. If the dinosaur turned it might catch her scent. And she would be doomed. She stood there, legs shaking, frozen in position. She was in a low squat position, body bent double under the pressure and weight of her own body. It was the worst possible position to be in. The sweat dripped down her face.
There was a whinnying sound on Cassie’s right, down on the street.
No, Cassie thought, and would have screamed if she wasn’t right at the dinosaur’s ear. The dinosaur straightened up, even closer to her position now, and looked down at the lone horseman.
Cassie could smell the monster’s reeking breath. She turned her head to look away, to block the stench, but she daren’t turn too far or fast for fear of getting the beast’s attention. The dinosaur growled in the back of its throat. The growl of something hungry, and not just for food, but for vengeance.
Cassie felt relieved. Whoever the lone warrior was, he had just saved not only her and Aaron’s life, for the monster would have surely brought the entire tower down, but he would have also torn through the great hall, pulverizing the locals to mush.
Her heart lurched in her throat as the dinosaur gave chase to the rider. The awkward angle of the rider caught her eye. He was no hero from the fairytales. He was a hero from real life.
He was her father.
50.
BRYAN COULDN’T recall feeling so scared his whole life. But then again, he’d felt like that often these days. He dreaded to think the grey hairs this whole experience would give him.
He was playing chicken with a dinosaur, and not just any dinosaur, but the most feared and terrible dinosaur in the history of the world. The T-Rex. The one all dinosaurs feared. And he was facing him on a horse, making himself an even more delicious target.
When Bryan had emerged onto the street, in full view of the dinosaur at the opposite end, it had been busying itself with smashing a clutch of homes to pieces. It breathed on the rubble, melting it to molten lava-like flows. It pressed its weight on top of the rubble with its giant feet, crushing it. It seemed to find enjoyment in doing it.
Thankfully no one was inside the house. They were all inside the great hall. They were still fighting for their lives, but what chance would they have had against this giant mass of muscle?
Probably about the same as me, Bryan thought.
Bryan’s horse was skittish. Bryan couldn’t blame it. He was scared too. But they were a healthy distance away. The horse was well trained and obeyed Bryan’s commands even when he told it to stand its ground.
He needed to make a noise, any loud noise, to get the dinosaur’s attention. But what? He cast around, looking for something to beat on a wall. But it would mean getting off the horse. Get off, and he might never get back on again.
The solution was obvious. He pulled on the horse’s reins, drawing it up into a rearing pose. It expelled a loud whinny.
The dinosaur turned to face the noise, face him. The dinosaur locked eyes on him. It grunted, and Bryan thought he recognized him. His insides turned to water. The monster lowered its head, and its eyes became slits. It drew its leg back and forth, stroking the earth, like a bull before it pounced. Bryan didn’t need so many obvious signals, but he took heed of them in any case.
He turned the horse around and galloped. The dinosaur roared, the thud of its heavy footsteps a reminder of how close the dinosaur was. It was fast and kept pace with the horse. Bryan was surprised. He had no idea how fast a T-Rex was, and in hindsight, that seemed an obvious problem they should have thought of before. After all, if a T-Rex was too fast, how could they expect to outrun it?
And it was too fast. It was gaining.
The rumble of its feet on the hard packed dirt roads was thunder in Bryan’s ears. Bryan shivered. He rocked his body back and forth, having to push the horse faster than he expected. It was no good.
He couldn’t outrun the beast in a straight line, and though the exit beckoned to him just ahead, he knew he wouldn’t make it, at least, not in a single piece. He pulled sharply on the reins and steered the horse left, around a corner and onto a side street.
It would buy him some time, he hoped, and with any luck-
The large house on the corner exploded like it had been set off with dynamite. Amidst the flying rubble and dust, a huge pair of muscular legs pumped hard, green and bleeding across its giant knees.
The dinosaur wasn’t smiling, of course—Bryan wasn’t even sure if a such a creature was capable of smiling—but to Bryan’s eyes that was exactly what it was doing.
Bryan focused on the task in hand. He needed to double back on himself, head back toward the entrance, but he daren’t turn left with the monster right on his heels.
But he couldn’t afford to waste time either. Who knew how long a horse lasted running at this pace? He decided to take the risk. He shut his eyes and said a quick prayer.
He led his horse down a narrow alley, and then, once inside, took another immediate left. The building to his left exploded, the shards rapping against him, shards as big as his head. He raised his elbow to protect himself. The horse whinnied and shifted to the right.
A huge head came out of the destroyed building like a wraith, its tongue lashing like a whip toward Bryan, but he didn’t slow. He didn’t dare. He felt the slime on the tip of its tongue slide across his cheek.
A large green snake, similar in size to a fallen tree, came rushing toward him. It was the creature’s tail, of course. Bryan reacted the same way whether it was a snake, tree or tail, and took the horse over it with a prowess of skill he didn’t know he had. He pushed the horse on. He was home free!
He got to the end of the alleyway and entered the main street. He turned right, heading toward the open gates. This part of town was silent. Bryan feared, as he always did, that an impediment would emerge at any moment, blocking him off and making it impossible for him to pass.
But it didn’t happen. He passed through the gate. He allowed the horse to slow, but he didn’t stop till he was a reasonable distance from the gate on a flat grassy plain.
Bryan leaned forward and slapped the horse comfortingly on the neck. It was covered in sweat, steam rising off it, nostrils flared, its breath hoarse.
Bryan turned his head to the side to listen for heavy footfalls, but heard none. There was no sign of the lumbering beast. That didn’t mean the creature wasn’t there, stalking, waiting for Bryan to come back through the gates. The monster had already proven he was a smart and thoughtful hunter.
The horse’s footfalls were loud and heavy on the drawbridge. It was a welcoming sound, the sound of freedom. Bryan crossed to the other side of the moat and turned the horse around.
The gates stood empty. There were no loud thudding footsteps, no growls or roars. Where was the beast? Dare he head back to see if it was there? He needed to make sure it followed him. But was the monster now setting his own trap by drawing Bryan to him?
Bryan had no choice. He had to go back.
51.
DESPITE ALL Lady Maltese’s knowledge, there were certain things she simply could not reproduce with the level of technology at her disposal. High technology required the investment and development from thousands of individuals, not just one. No matter how brilliant that one person might be, there was no way she could replicate the level of technology the surface had.
But she could try. And she had.
She wanted to build a camera to attach to the top of the T-Rex’s head for better control. For what could be bought for a few dollars in any store on the surface you cou
ldn’t even dream of reproducing in this world.
She could hear the roar of her beloved Rexy. She had learned over the years to read her pet’s agonized groans, the way its roar soared or fell, its delicate intonation. It couldn’t be described as a language, but it did convey meaning. In many ways, vocal communication was better than a camera. She recognized a cry of disappointment when she heard one.
It could only mean Rexy had failed to snap up one of the family members. Rexy was like that. He didn’t like to lose what he felt belonged to him. He was highly territorial.
The former Lady Maltese decided to give her pet a gift, as part of her latest upgrade. She picked up her amulet and pressed the big ruby button. At least there were some things she was still capable of reproducing in this world. She grinned, chuckled with a half maniacal grin, and then turned and ran into the caves.
52.
THE SKELETAL warriors were not difficult to engage, but they were difficult to kill. They were unlike anything Rosetta had ever fought before. Removing your opponent’s head tended to put a dampener on their attack, but with the skeletons it didn’t make any difference.
That was why she didn’t bother to decapitate them or slice through their limbs any longer—they would only keep attacking anyway, and judging by the number of dead and injured locals on the floor, that was precisely what had happened. They’d sliced off an undead’s head, only for it to then continue at them. In their shock the skeletons had the perfect opportunity to strike their enemies down.
Too many locals had fallen to the skeletons, and Rosetta was not about to let more die than need be. She thrust her metal arm into every rotting chest cavity she came to, and tore out their beating mechanical hearts.
But they were fighting a losing battle. For every skeleton they killed, another two were ready to take its place. Their only saving grace was the limited width of the great hall, otherwise the skeletons would have surrounded them and hacked them to pieces.
Despite everything Rosetta had been through, despite finally finding Bryan and his family, she had managed to speak just a few words with him. Now she was about to die here, in what looked like the Hogwart’s dining room.
