Dinotopia - Dinotopia Lost

  Sylvia, he thought. He envisioned her soaring alongside him, her hair flying in the wind as her skybax, Nimbus, banked toward him. Saw the four of them dipping and rising together, as they might have done in life.

  No, he told himself. He wasn’t going to go out like this. Not with all these hardened seamen watching. Straightening, he opened his eyes and stared straight back at Blackstrap. The captain nodded ever so slightly in approval as his finger tightened on the trigger.

  A gray streak wrapped in flowing linen fell from the sky to land square on Blackstrap’s shoulders, knocking him forward and down just as he pulled the trigger. Will convulsed as the bullet dug a streak in the earth just to the left of his leg.

  “What the bloody blazes?” Pistol still gripped tightly in his fist, Blackstrap rolled onto his back to see what had knocked him down.

  The unexpected arrival dipped its head in a slight bow. “Your pardon. I hope I did not hurt you.” So saying, Tarqua sprang forward and in a single lithe, fluid motion, kicked the revolver out of the captain’s hand. Had the ascetic chosen to use the great curving sickle of a talon that curved downward from his second toe, instead of the heel of his foot, it would have been Blackstrap’s hand instead of the gun that would have been sent flying.

  The captain was nothing if not persistent. As he tried to aim the other pistol, Tarqua simply sprang in reverse and sent the other weapon spinning into a clump of bushes. Face flushed and panting hard, Blackstrap slowly rose to his feet, not taking his eyes from his bright-eyed tormentor as he prepared to draw his cutlass.

  He was distracted by the approaching rumble of the rescue team. “Blathering demons who drop from the sky. Mountains that walk.” His expression twisted into an ugly sneer. “’Tis gratifying it will be to put this land to the torch!” Gesturing to his remaining loyalists, he whirled and rushed back up the path they had taken, in the direction of the slot canyon.

  The remaining pirates gazed in astonishment at the enrobed Tarqua as the Deinonychus turned to bow low before Will. It was Chumash who first noticed movement overhead and let out a startled cry.

  “It’s all right!” Will hastened to reassure them. “It’s only some sort of sky galley. A boat like your own.” But no sky galley like he’d ever seen, he reflected. The balloons that held it aloft looked to be made of metal, which was self-evidently impossible. Wasn’t it?

  As it descended rapidly toward them, a familiar, sensitive face appeared in the prow, leaning out and waving energetically at him.

  “Keelk! It’s you!”

  The pirates strove to divide their attention between this new marvel and their young prisoner, who had begun struggling like a madman. It was left to the most recent arrival to calm him.

  “Will Denison, I presume? I saw you in the temple, but we did not speak. In retrospect, that is a pity, for had we communicated at that time this precipitant journey might have been avoided. ”

  Will nodded slowly. “I tried to call out to you, but I wasn’t allowed.”

  “So your friends surmised. Your very persuasive friends, I might add. Please excuse me while I go to the aid of my disabled craft. I saw from above that it would not land in time and so jumped out at what I thought to be a propitious moment. I am glad you are unharmed.”

  Bounding past a pair of startled pirates, he leaped impossibly high into the air. Aware that his kind were among the strongest jumpers in all Dinotopia, Will was the only one on the ground not struck dumb with amazement at this feat. Snagging the side of the craft with both clawed hands, the Deinonyckus pulled himself up and into the gondola.

  “If you could give us a hand,” he yelled from within, “it would be much appreciated!”

  For a moment no one moved. Then Mkuse turned to his shipmates. “Well, are we to be good citizens of this country or not? Come on, then!”

  Putting aside their weapons, some of the men doing so for the first time iif their adult lives, they rushed to the reeling, wavering craft’s aid. They crowded beneath its sturdy keel, jumping and grabbing, but it pitched back and forth in the inconstant wind and hovered just out of reach. Following Tarqua’s directions, the struthies tossed mooring lines over the side, which the pirates gathered up. Digging their heels into the rain-sodden ground, they fought to bring the craft to earth. Several found themselves dragged forward so that they sprawled facedown in the mud, to the gruff amusement of their fellows.

  The grounding of the gondola was a group endeavor. As soon as its keel scraped earth, Tarqua hopped out and began issuing directions in heavily accented but perfectly understandable King’s English. The sailors, who had until very recently thought dinosaurs nothing more than peculiar, exotic animals, suddenly found themselves taking orders from one.

  “Secure that foreline to that palm trunk . . . no, not like that . .. there, that’s better . . . bring the stern down gently, gently ...” Tarqua’s instructions were as clear as those of any experienced ship’s officer. “You tie a good knot,” he complimented the man nearest him.

  Samuel grinned at the Deinonychus. “That’s a skill the least among us possesses.”

  Shremaza had popped the latch on the sky boat’s door and urged her offspring out. Groaning, an unsteady Chaz stumbled out last, found a soft patch of ground, and immediately slumped down on his belly.

  “Chaz!” Will shouted to his friend.

  The Protoceratops looked up weakly. “Am I really back on solid ground? It doesn’t feel like it. It feels like I’m still moving. Still rocking, still bouncing, still sliding from side to side, still... oooohhh!” He closed his eyes as Will looked on sympathetically. Whether through sea or sky, sailing was not for everyone.

  Touchdown had taken place not a moment too soon. One of the hydromagnesite balloons had already collapsed, and two of the remaining three were in bad shape.

  With a sigh of resignation Tarqua bounded into the gondola and released the air from the two damaged sacks by puncturing each with the tip of one claw. Hydrogen hissed softly as both metallic globes deflated. They could be repaired and refilled, but the sky boat would not fly again for some time.

  “We did not rise very near to heaven, did we?” he murmured.

  “Heaven?” Will joined the Deinonychus in inspecting the grounded craft. “I don’t know about that, honored elder, but when you came down on top of Blackstrap the way you did, you surely looked like an angel to me.”

  A familiar chirping and hooting made Will turn. Keelk was standing close by, her right forearm upraised. Smiling, he touched his own palm to hers. Then, in true struthie fashion, she wrapped her neck around his much shorter one, first on the left side, then on the right. This exchange was repeated with her brother, sister, and mother, until Will’s head rang slightly from the surplus of affection.

  “They are saying that you saved them and now they are glad to repay the favor,” Tarqua translated for him. “Allow me to release you from your restraints.”

  “Thanks.” Will turned his back on the Deinonychus.

  “Stand very still, please.” Taking a step back, the Deinonychus extended the second talon on his right foot and measured the distance carefully. A few quick, whistling kicks and Will’s bonds lay in coils about his feet. He’d felt nothing except the wind of Tarqua’s passing foot.

  “Much better.” Will rubbed at his wrists and legs where the ropes had chafed the skin. A glance to his left showed the rescue party bearing down on them. “Now we need to do likewise for my friend.”

  Throughout it all, Prettykill had looked on in silence, conserving her strength for a last, explosive effort should the large human point his weapons at her. Then the young human who had befriended her had been miraculously saved, and the dominant male of this disgusting pack driven off. Now she crouched silently, waiting to see what would happen next.

  Johanssen intercepted Will and the Deinonycbus. “Wait, now, lad. It’s true that we’ve cast our lot with you, but surely you can’t mean to free that devil-beast?” Wind whipped his long hair and r
ain pelted his face. “It’ll kill all of us.”

  “I don’t think so,” Will responded confidently. “Have you forgotten that I calmed it once before?”

  “Aye,” admitted another of the uneasy seamen, “but that was when it were strapped and bound.”

  “If she’s been acting aggressively it’s only because she’s young. What would you do in her position, kidnapped and carried off by strangers? I gave my word to her parents that I would see her free.” He noted their troubled expressions. “If you want to be citizens of Dinotopia you have to understand everything that means.”

  “We realize that, lad, but still ...” Johanssen’s imploring gaze finally came to rest on the damp, lanky figure of the first mate. “Mr. Smiggens, what say you to this?”

  “We have to do as the lad says. Although,” he added as he retreated several steps, “I confess to being less than keen on his intentions myself.”

  Accompanied by Tarqua, a still wobbly Chaz, and the entire struthie family, Will approached the young tyrannosaur. Placing a hand on the upper end of her snout, he once again repeated both their names in her own tongue. He wasn’t surprised when the masterful Deinonycbus addressed her fluently and at length. When the ascetic had concluded, she snorted to indicate her understanding.

  “Give me some room, please.” The Deinonychus studied the tyrannosaur’s bindings. “This will take a few moments. There is a lot of rope.” Robes swirling, talons flashing, he went to work. Watching the wonderfully athletic display, Will was reminded of folk dancers in flight.

  One after another the heavy tethers fell to the ground, sliced cleanly through. When the last parted, Tarqua stepped back to survey his footwork. Not a nick showed on the young tyrannosaur’s skin.

  Prettykill stretched and yawned, the latter a most impressive display. Though only a youngster, her serrated teeth were already larger than those of the mature Deinonychus. She flexed one leg, then the other. Then she turned her head slightly and, growling dangerously low in her throat, started straight for Guimaraes.

  Perceiving her intent, the Portuguese’s friends instantly abandoned his company. Guimaraes, who not so very long ago had been the picture of bloodthirsty recklessness, backpedaled frantically and tripped over a rock. Skittering backward on his buttocks, kicking madly with his legs, he beseeched any who would listen.

  “No, stop, call her off! She’ll kill me, she’ll tear my throat out! Don’t let her near me!” The terror in his face was piteous to behold.

  Reflexively, Will interposed himself between the whimpering seaman and the stalking tyrannosaur. “Tarqua, Chaz! Somebody translate for me, and quickly.” His expression determined, he raised both hands. Breathing hard, Prettykill halted, her teeth inches from his fingers.

  “Prettykill, listen to me. I know you don’t adhere to the standards of civilized Dinotopia.” He could hear both the Deinonychus and the Protoceratops translating in the background, an amazing series of growls and rumblings. “But just as I gave my word to free you, I’ve sort of given my word to these humans that they’ll be safe in my company. Let the authorities in Sauropolis judge them, not you.

  “You’re free now, and I’ll see to it that you have any help you need to return safely to the Rainy Basin. But I want you to give me your word that you’ll leave these men alone. All of them. The one who’s truly responsible for what was done to you, for what was done to all of us, has gone. Don’t blame those here for the things he made them do.”

  Will knew that wasn’t entirely true. Not all of these men had been coerced into the actions they’d taken. But it was near enough to the reality, and all now seemed ready, even eager, to begin anew.

  It made sense to him, but would it make sense to a tyrannosaur?

  Prettykill blinked. Using her right forefoot, she scratched at a place where a rope had burned. Then she looked back, not at the petrified Guimaraes, but at Will. The powerful jaws parted, and he found himself staring at a dark maw lined with razor-sharp teeth. He didn’t flinch, not even when the long pink tongue emerged to give him a rough lick on the cheek. Like the tongue of many carnivores, Prettykill’s was as rough as sandpaper. Nevertheless, he managed a smile as tyrannosaur saliva ran down his cheek and off his chin.

  “Right, then: that’s settled.” He heard several of the pirates exhale sharply. “You can get up now, mister. It’ll be all right. Mister?” He turned to reassure Guimaraes, but the Portuguese was destined to remain unaware of his salvation for several moments yet.

  He’d fainted dead away.

  XXIII

  “you know,” remarked smiggens conversationally as they waited for the rescue party to collect and for Samuel and Andreas to revive the unconscious Guimaraes, “I was a teacher. I've always missed teaching, but I don’t imagine those skills will be wanting here. This is a whole new world, and I know nothing of it. ”

  Will brushed rain from his forehead and tried to comfort the former first mate. "There’s always a need for teachers. You can teach contemporary outside world history, or sailing, or timeless subjects like mathematics. I’ll introduce you to my father. He had some of the same fears when he first learned we couldn’t leave here. Now you couldn’t drag him away. ” Smiggens regarded the confident young man. “You really think so? That would be grand.”

  Will nodded vigorously. “Wait until the librarians find out you were a teacher. You won’t have a spare moment. Why, once you learn the ancient script, you might even find yourself teaching young dinosaurs as well as human children. ”

  “Teaching dinosaurs.” A faraway look came into Smiggens’s eyes. Then he blinked and found himself eyeing Prettykill uneasily. “Well, some dinosaurs, anyway.” Will grinned at this remark. “It seems a most understanding society which has been established here. ”

  “You’ll see,” Will told him. “There’s room here for everyone.”

  Mkuse stepped forward, an unaccustomed hesitancy in his voice. ‘Tell me, lad. Does anyone ... do they make slaves of Africans here?”

  “Slaves?” Will frowned. “There’s no slavery in Dinotopia. I don’t know about the humans of ancient times, but the dinosaurs would never hear of it. It’s an alien concept to them. ”

  The warrior muttered something in Zulu, adding in English, “There are many who I wish could see this place. ”

  “Me, too,” Will replied sadly. “But no one leaves Dinotopia. ”

  Old Ruskin squinted at the threatening sky. “If anyone could do it, Captain Blackstrap’s the one.”

  “Don’t worry about him. A watch will be put on your ship, and hell be found. ”

  “You said something about contacting authorities.” Smiggens looked uncomfortable. “We haven’t exactly treated you and your friends well. ”

  Will considered. “None of us has been harmed. In fact, the whole experience will make a good story. You haven’t been acting as citizens of Dinotopia and aren’t citizens yet, so I suppose you’re not subject to its laws. I don’t know exactly what will happen, but I’m sure everything will turn out okay.” He smiled apologetically. “It’s not for me to say. I’m only an apprentice skybax rider. ”

  “Skybax rider?” exclaimed Andreas. “What’s that?”

  “You’ll see.” It would be wonderful to see Cirrus again, he thought. The Quetzalcoatlus must be lonely. “Here are our rescuers. ”

  The seamen crowded together and gazed in awe at the gathering of sauropods that halted nearby. Wind tugged at hats and scarves. It was raining heavily and continuously now, and everyone was soaked to the skin.

  Separating from the group, the lead brachiosaur advanced to within a few yards of the onlookers. Several of the pirates lost their hats, and Treggang fell on his backside as they tilted their heads back, back, to gaze up the length of that phenomenal neck. As they looked on, it slowly descended, like the scoop on the end of a crane. Red and gold tassels decorated the tack, and the saddle behind the head had been tooled by a master leathermaker.

  Identical tassels hung from
the shoulders and boots of the human rider, who slipped off the saddle with an effortlessness born of long practice. The head withdrew, rising skyward. As it did so, a slim, familiar shape slid and hopped free of the formidable mass of supplies that was strapped to the sauropod ’s back.

  Hisaulk’s reunion with his family was as touching as it was restrained.

  “What manner of creature is this?” A reverent Ruskin tried to take the measure of the immense quadruped.

  “Aye, ” added O’Connor. “She’s as big as a house. No, two houses! ”

  “That’s a brachiosaur,” Will informed them. “They’re very gentle. ”

  "See how high the saddle sits,” Samuel commented. “It must be like riding a foremast. ”

  While Chaz chatted with the big sauropod, Will did his best to explain the situation to its rider, a stout, earthy woman from Treetown who identified herself as Karinna. The repentant seamen seemed to find her, in her boots, trousers, and overblouse, as astonishing a sight as any of the great dinosaurs.

  She listened closely to all of Will’s abbreviated but relatively complete tale before nodding understandingly. When she replied, a rapidly recovering Chaz thoughtfully translated her Dinotopian jargon for the benefit of the pirates. In the background thunder boomed incessantly, as if a mighty sea battle were taking place just over the horizon and drifting steadily nearer.

  “So it was the leader of this collection of wayward misanthropes that we saw running for the foothills.” She looked toward the Backbone Mountains, their summits now hidden beneath thickening clouds. “I saw him myself, through the glass. ” She patted the spotting scope that hung from a loop of her belt. “A big man. ”

  “Only physically,” Tarqua asserted.

  Surprised, the brachiosaur rider blinked at him. “You’re very articulate, for a dromaeosaur. ”

  “I have spent my life in study.” Tarqua rewarded her with another of his gentle, elegant bows.