Chapter 20

When I opened the door to the hotel suite, Mom gasped. “You’re soaked.”

I didn’t even respond. Just ducked my head to grab my suitcase, swiveled straight into the bathroom, and locked myself in before she could jump down my throat. After getting dragged into the pool, clothes and all, I needed to dry off and change. And after what Pine said, about not wanting to stay once we locked Crow down? I needed to think.

I shut the door and waited a second to see if Mom would bang it down. When I was sure I was off the hook, I grabbed a clean white towel from the rack and buried my face in the fluff.

Pine had lost so many years to Crow. All this time, I just assumed he would be excited to get his life back.

But this wasn’t his life. Not his old life. He’d never get that back.

I stripped out of my damp clothes and hung them in the shower to drip dry. But even after shedding the water weight, I still felt heavy all over. I couldn’t even focus on what I wanted to wear—just grabbed the first pair of pajama shorts I could get my hands on and something to keep me warm in the chilly hotel, a sweatshirt with a swooping swallow on the front.

If Pine regretted respawning in my disaster zone, I didn’t blame him. Shackled to a one-star mage in a totally alien future with his killer on the loose? When I stepped back to look at the whole picture from his perspective, it wasn’t exactly the portrait of a glass half full.

Maybe it was kind of big-headed to assume he’d want to stay here just because I wanted him to. Just because we were friends.

At least, I thought we were friends.

I pulled the extra-big sweatshirt over my head, curled my fingers around the ends of the floppy sleeves, and wrapped my arms around my suddenly-icky stomach.

Did he like me as much as I liked him? Or was he just a poor, polite sucker whose soul got stuck to me? Was making sure that Crow got poofed the only reason he was even still here?

When I opened the bathroom door, the whole hotel suite smelled like pizza.

“Are you sure he can handle this much grease?” Mom said in the other room.

Dad scoffed. “The boy’s made of magic, let him have some junk food.”

I snuck over to Dad’s side of the suite and peeked around the corner.

Pine sat on the floor in lazy pants and a tank top, tag in the back this time. He held a vegetarian slice in both hands, wolfing it down crust-first. His eyes blazed like his new purpose was inhaling cheese.

I grabbed a slice of pepperoni on a napkin and took a seat on the couch, tucking my knees inside my extra-large sweatshirt and picking at the crust.

Are you hurt? Pine asked.

When I looked up, he was staring right into me.

I replied through our private channel. Like, emotionally?

He nodded.

Yes. But I wasn’t telling him that. He had enough to worry about. No.

Even when I broke eye contact, I could still feel him staring at me. Reading between the lines.

It’s not you, he said.

A sigh of relief escaped my mouth. I couldn’t catch it in time. I just needed to hear those words from him.

I don’t know if I belong here, he said. That’s all.

I just wish . . . I bit my lip, trying to get the words straight.

And that’s when I noticed my parents were staring.

“Want to let everybody in on this conversation?” Dad asked.

I tucked my chin against my chest and shrank in my seat. “It’s not important.”

Dad polished his glasses on his shirt and checked them in the light, all casual. “Don’t you think it’s a little rude for you two to be sidebarring right in front of us?” 

Actually, I thought it was a little rude of him to barge in on my private conversation. But I kept my opinions to myself, peeling a long string of cheese off my pizza and letting the silence stretch.

Pine stared at the carpet.

“Dad and I are going back to Glen Rose.” Mom broke the quiet. “And you and Pine are coming with us.”

I expected that like I expected a meteor to fall through the ceiling. “You’re kidding.”

“To stay with Dr. Jacobs,” Mom added.

“Uh-huh.” There it was. I should’ve known this would end with a babysitter.

“Her ranch is close enough that we can get to you in an emergency, but a good distance from Dinosaur Valley and the museum,” Mom said. “If Mrs. Hemming learns that you exist, she won’t look there first. It’ll buy us time to move you again.”

“So, I’m sidelining while you and Dad go find Crow?” Of course, I was.

No. Pine slammed his fist on the floor. All I do is sit and wait. No more. He sliced a fierce look toward my parents. Tell them.

But before I could deliver the message, Dad raised his hand to settle the room. “Now, listen.”

“We want to try to find Crow before Mrs. Hemming gets to him.” Mom took over, cutting straight to the facts. “But to corner him—safely—first we have to disarm him.”

“Or at least find a way to punch back,” Dad said.

“Right now, there are two dinosaurs on the board.” Mom counted on her hand. “One is Deinonychus. The other one, we don’t know. That’s whatever Crow summoned earlier today.”

“Ugh.” I put my hand over the still-raw spot in my chest where Crow had jacked my power. “Don’t remind me.”

“We need to take one or both those dinosaurs off the board. Which means we”—Dad motioned between himself and Mom—“and I mean we, alone, need to destroy them. And once we destroy them, we’ll need Cee to trap them.”

“Like I did with Tenontosaurus?”

“Exactly,” Dad said.

I exchanged a glance with Pine. “So, we’re coming on the dinosaur hunt?”

“Only for cleanup,” Mom said firmly. “Far, far away from the action.”

It took all my strength to hold back a smile. “And I’m getting a raptor?”

“If”—Mom held up a finger—“you can prove you can control it.”

I had to cover my mouth to hide the gigantic grin twitching in my lips. Get it together. This was serious stuff. Time for a serious face.

“Your mom and I agree you need to be able to protect yourself, and a raptor would be decent protection,” Dad said.

“But we’re not going to rush things,” Mom said. “First, you need to prove you can control Tenontosaurus.”

My jackpot smile hardened into a straight line. The last time I came face-to-face with the bull, he almost kicked my head in. But, then again, last time he wasn’t on my team. Maybe this round, I could get into his head like I did with Nuke and Bitey Face and set the tone.

Doable. But that didn’t feel like the whole story. “You said something about punching back?” I asked.

“After we get the raptor, it could go two ways.” Dad said. “We find this mystery dinosaur, or we find Crow. Whichever comes first. If it’s the mystery dinosaur, we’ll handle it like we handled the raptor.”

I frowned. Why did it feel like he was tap-dancing around my question? “And if it’s Crow?”

“Then the adults will have a conversation.” Dad threaded his fingers. “And if things take a turn for the worse, you—”

“From a safe distance, hidden, with Dr. Jacobs,” Mom cut in.

“—will punch back,” Dad said.

A chance to bite a chunk out of Crow? I liked the sound of that. I had a feeling Pine would, too. I glanced at him. “Good with you?”

He took a moment to think, I guess weighing his options. Nodded once.

“Cool.” I turned back to my parents. “We’re good.”

“It’s not really up for debate,” Mom said.

The next morning, we drove south to Central Texas. Mom and Dad up front in the 4Runner, me and Pine in the backseat.

Dr. Jacobs lived on a ranch off one of the farm roads that crisscrossed outside Glen Rose. When we pulled through her open bar gate, Winnie the black-and-blue cow dog came hurtling out of the acres of rolling pasture. She ran alongside the car all the way up the drive.

We parked in front of a small, blue-and-white house with wood siding. Giant bushes of red and yellow lantana grew out front between huge chunks of petrified tree trunk. A small horse stable sat close by.

Dr. Jacobs stepped out the front door and whistled for her dog.

Winnie hopped up the porch steps and zipped between her boots, wiggling her stub tail.

“Thank you so much for watching the kids,” Mom said as we piled out of the car.

“Least I could do.” Dr. Jacobs came down to meet us. “I got nothin’ but time.”

Winnie scampered toward me.

Pine lunged out of the backseat and threw himself between us. He pushed me behind him, crossing his other arm in front of his body to protect himself.

“Whoa, whoa. It’s okay.” I put a hand on his shoulder. “This is Winnie, remember? She’s just a dog.”

Winnie wiggled her whole back half and rolled onto her back. Her tongue flopped out of her mouth.

Pine held his breath. Studied her. Is she sick?

“Nope. Just friendly. And old.” I dropped to my knees and rubbed Winnie’s belly. “Come say hi.”

He locked his arms at his sides. Shook his head.

“Okay.” I smooshed Winnie’s fluffy cheeks. “But you’re missing out.”

“I dunno about y’all, but I’m ready to see some dinosaurs.” Dr. Jacobs hooked her thumbs in her belt loops. “Wanna show me what you got, kid?”

“Yeah.” I got up and dusted my knees. “Is Martina around?”

“She’s at work, staking out the museum. If she sees any sign of Crow, she’ll give a holler.”

“While you work on Tenontosaurus, we’ll search for the raptor,” Mom said. “We’ll give you a call if we find something.”

“You’ll want some protection.” Dr. Jacobs stepped inside for a second and came back out with a rifle and a box of ammunition. “30-30. She ain’t fancy but she does the job.”

“Oh.” Dad paused from unloading my guitar case and adjusted his glasses. “I’m not really familiar with . . .”

But Mom came forward. “My dad had a Winchester.”

“This is a Marlin 336.” Dr. Jacobs handed the gun over. “I reckon they’re pretty similar.”

Mom checked the safety and flipped the rifle against her shoulder to look down the length of the barrel.

I’d known this woman for thirteen years and I’d never seen her touch a gun. “Who are you?” I whispered.

“I’m the girl who had to go hog hunting every winter break.” Mom looped the rifle strap over her shoulder. “Be glad that tradition stopped with me.”

“Thanks.” I liked barbecue ribs as much as anybody, but I got sick when we dissected a worm in science class. And camo was not my style.

“You remember the Smiths?” Dr. Jacobs passed Mom the ammo box. “They found their dog dead this morning. Guts hangin’ out everywhere. And that was one mean LGD.” She reached down to give Winnie a protective pat. “You might start there.”

Dad slammed the trunk and tossed the keys in his hand. “I’ll drive.”

After a quick goodbye, we watched the 4Runner pull away and disappear down the farm road.

“Welp.” Dr. Jacobs clapped her hands together and turned to me and Pine. “Dinosaurs?”

“Dinosaurs.” I grabbed my guitar case, and we followed her over to the stable.

Unlike Grandpa John’s cluttered barn, the stable’s short center aisle was totally clear, leading to an open door on the other end that let a nice cross breeze through. The whole place smelled like hay and leather. Three pictures with dusty frames hung on the wall—men in chaps and cowboy hats on bucking bulls.

I pointed to the photos. “Are these—?”

“My poppa, my husband, and my boy. Bullriders, all three of ’em.” She laughed over her shoulder. “And that was back before they wore helmets.”

We passed another photo—a grainy black-and-white of a blonde teenager on a paint horse, swinging around a striped barrel and kicking up arena sand.

“Is this you?” I asked.

“Yes ma’am. But I quit riding for buckles a long time ago.”

Behind me, a horse snorted. I turned to see a butter-gold palomino in one of the stalls.

Dr. Jacobs gave the mare’s neck a pat. “This is Vanna White.”

That name felt familiar. “Wasn’t she a First Lady or something?”

Dr. Jacobs busted out laughing. “She flipped the letters on Wheel of Fortune.”

“Oh.” I put my hands on my hips like I didn’t care, but my whole face went hot. “I feel stupid.”

A chestnut horse poked its stripey nose out of the neighboring stall and snuffled Dr. Jacob’s Stetson.

“Whoops.” She adjusted her hat and reached back to scratch his cheek. “This is Alex Trebek.”

I wasn’t even gonna ask. Better google it later.

Pine hung back in the aisle. Earlier, he’d looked at Winnie like she might steal his lunch money. But when he laid eyes on those horses, all that ice melted. You’d think he was watching a tropical sunset.

Dr. Jacobs waved him over. “C’mere.” She reached into her pocket, pulled out a soft peppermint, and dropped it into his palm. “Hold your hand out flat.” She took another mint from her pocket and demonstrated with Vanna, who nibbled the candy out of her hand. “Like this, so they don’t get your fingers.”

Pine scooted toward Trebek’s big head. He stretched his whole arm out, fingers rail-straight.

Trebek leaned over the stall door and snuffled Pine’s open palm with a pink, velvety snout. He vacuumed the peppermint up.

Pine yanked his hand back and wiped it on his shirt, beaming a big, slanted smile.

Dr. Jacobs slapped his back. “We gotta get this boy on a horse.”

We went out the other stable door to a round pen.

Dr. Jacobs rapped her knuckles on one of the steel bars. “This should hold him.”

I got out my guitar, climbed up on the edge of the tall fence, and played Tenontosaurus’s flamenco sting.

The bull’s back rose up out of the clay like a pitcher’s mound. The dirt packed into hard muscle and smoothed into scales. His body darkened like toast, burning to a shiny molasses color that flashed orange when it caught the light. A white saddle of zebra stripes streaked down his flanks. As he waded out of the dirt, he tossed the dust off his neck with a shake that sent a ripple through his muscles.

He limped a step on his front leg, the one with the scarred shoulder. And when he looked up, the yellow comb on his eyebrows made it clear he was not happy to see me.

“Uh-oh,” I said.

He galloped toward me.

I pitched my legs over the bars and leapt to safety just before he cut a tight turn and slammed his whole side up against the fence.

The pen rattled.

The bull ran a circle but couldn’t seem to pick up enough speed to risk a leap over the fence. In the end, he slowed to a stop in the middle of the arena, pawing the ground and rearing his head.       

I slipped my guitar behind my back and shut my eyes, reaching into his mind.

His inner world swirled like a thunderstorm.

“Easy.” I took a breath and pushed myself into the churn. The emotional vortex spun out and went quiet.

In the real world, Tenontosaurus stood still. His muscles went slack and his claws relaxed in the dirt. He blew out a sigh.

After a long moment of silence, I decided to call it. “I think we’re cool.”

“How much can you control him?” Dr. Jacobs asked.

“I can pretty much drive him like a car.” I stepped up to the bars again and ducked my head to look between them. “But I don’t really want to force him to do anything unless I have to, y’know? Just doesn’t seem fair.”

After being jerked around by Pine’s soulshine once or twice, I didn’t really want to play puppet master. I figured even a dinosaur deserved to spend their free time however they wanted.

I climbed up on the fence and reached into the pen, clicking my tongue. “Come here, buddy.”

The bull gave me a bored look and bowed his head to snuffle the ground. Now that I didn’t register as a threat, dirt was more interesting than me.

Ouch.

“Hold on.” Dr. Jacobs disappeared through the stable door. A minute later she came back and handed me a chopped carrot. “Try this.”

I stretched the carrot out on a flat hand and clicked to get his attention.

The bull looked up at me and swayed, I guess deciding how bad he wanted it. Then, carefully, he took one step toward me. Then another. And another.

Flaring wet nostrils, he stretched his neck until we were inches apart. Up close, I could see the fleshy comb over his shiny eyes, the intricate scale pattern on his nose, the holes he had for ears. His skull suddenly seemed huge—the size of a two-liter. He opened his curved beak.

“Please don’t snip my fingers off,” I whispered.

He clipped a chunk off the carrot, then scooped the whole thing and crunched it up.

“There you go. Good boy.” I reached up, slowly, and brushed my fingers down the broad space between his eyes. The scales on his forehead were hard and warm from the sun. I brushed my hand down his thick neck and over his side. His throat had the same texture as a basketball. His ribs were more like an alligator purse.

Here we were, standing around a horse pen, a stable full of saddles and an old barrel racer on standby. I had a dinosaur at my fingertips and a whole afternoon to kill.

How could I be expected to not connect those dots?

“I’m having an idea,” I said. A very bad, extremely cool idea.

Dr. Jacobs flashed a smile. “I’m right there with you.”

What? Pine glanced between us and narrowed his eyes. What is it?

***

“Go slow,” Dr. Jacobs said. “Just put a little weight on him first. Let him see you don’t mean him any harm.”

I balanced on the fence, pressing my hands down on the bull’s bare back. We didn’t try to saddle him—nothing would’ve fit.

His black eyeball shifted. I could see my helmeted head reflected in the shine.

My heartbeats pounded through my whole body. I’d done some riding at Grandpa John’s before he gave up his horses, so I wasn’t a total beginner. But I wasn’t exactly a rodeo champion, either.

Dr. Jacobs nodded. “Nice and easy.”

This is a terrible idea, Pine said in my head. He leaned over the bars, arms folded.

“Humans ride things,” I said, keeping my voice low and steady—partly trying to convince myself. “It’s what we do.”

Not my kind of human.

“Give him a little more weight,” Dr. Jacobs said.

I eased down against the bull, stretching the front half of my body over his broad back.

Tenontosaurus puffed a gust of air out of his nostrils and jerked away, his long, stiff tail swinging as he turned.

He slipped out from under me so fast, I almost flipped over the bars. And just when I caught my balance—

The bullwhip tip of his tail slapped me across the skull.

“Ow.” I rubbed the sting out of my cheek.

Pine snorted and dropped his head in his arms, hiding a laugh.

Dr. Jacobs covered her chuckle with a cough. “Let’s try that again.”

After a few more tries, I managed to lay my arms and chest across Tenontosaurus.

“See if he’ll take all your weight,” Dr. Jacobs said. “But be ready to slide off the side. Your Mom won’t be too happy with me if you get trampled to death.”

“You’re a terrible babysitter,” I whispered, not wanting to spook the bull. I eased over and slid one leg across him, leaving my other toe touching the fence.

He shifted a bit, and a little shiver ran through the skin on his shoulder. But he didn’t jet out from under me.

I lifted my other foot off the fence. And—holy cow. There it was. I was officially, technically, totally riding a dinosaur.

Was this what it felt like to win Olympic gold?

The bull took one awkward, unsure step. Then another. We were doing it. We were moving.

I looked over at Dr. Jacobs and Pine with my mouth open. “Are you seeing this?” I whispered.

Pine watched through his fingers.

Dr. Jacobs gave me a big, goofy smile and a double thumbs up.

But then, suddenly, my whole world rocked backward. My stomach flipped like a pancake.

The bull had reared up on two legs.

I slid down his tail and landed on my butt. The thud punched a grunt out of me. “Oof.”

Pine cracked up, doubled over the bars of the pen.

“Har har.” I stumbled to my feet, dusting the dirt off my backside.

“You know what, cowboy?” Dr. Jacobs rocked off the fence and tipped her head for Pine to come along. “It’s your turn.”

He snapped his mouth shut. But it was way too late for apologies.

A few minutes later they came back out of the stable with a saddled-up Trebek. Dr. Jacobs led him into a nearby paddock and walked Pine through the basics. None of the helmets fit his head, but if he fell, he would just poof and I’d bring him back—so, no harm done?

Meanwhile, I speedran through a montage of spectacular fails. Each fall came in a different flavor. The thunk and roll. The flailing flip. The slow, pathetic slide. Every once in a while, I checked in with the bull through our soulshine connection to remind him I wasn’t an ax murderer, so he never straight-up bucked me off. But that didn’t stop him from rearing up, turning tight, and braking hard.

After an hour or so, Pine reined in Trebek to pause near the fence that separated us. Try squeezing with your legs.

I spat out some of the ground that had found its way into my mouth. “Thanks.”

It kind of ticked me off what a great seat he had in the saddle. This morning, he didn’t even know horses could be ridden. Now here he was with heels down, back straight, and hands quiet. He’d already worked up to a trot.

All I got was sweaty and dirty and sore. But, hey—at least one of us was having a good time.

Dr. Jacobs came over, carrying two frosty, brown glass bottles. She popped the cap off one and held it up. “Break.”

“Ugh.” My legs hurt so bad from holding on, I could hardly force myself off the ground. But I got up, ducked under the bars, and took the cold bottle from her hand. “What is this?” I asked, unbuckling my helmet.

“Sarsaparilla.”

I’d only ever heard that word in old westerns. But I took a swig. It was chilly and fizzy and sweet, with a kick just like root beer.

Dr. Jacobs and I sat on the cool cement in the shadow of the stable, and Tenontosaurus eased its heavy body down in the dust and basked with its eyes closed. Guess we all needed a rest.

“You’re lookin’ good out there,” Dr. Jacobs said after a while.

That was such a riot, I almost spewed my drink. “I can’t ride that thing more than twenty feet.”

“That’s not a horse. That’s a wild animal. You’ll have to get him to trust you a little more before you find your seat.” She shrugged. “Considering he was fixin’ to stomp you like an empty Coke can this morning, I’d say you’re doing A-okay.”

I glanced at her. “Yeah?”

“Heck yeah. You took control out there. That’s a gold star from me.” She clinked her glass bottle against mine. “You’re gettin’ to be just about as good as your grandaddy.”

“You think I can take the raptor?” I asked.

She nodded. “You’re ready.”

A smile flickered inside me like a nightlight, and its glow spread through my whole body. Suddenly I didn’t feel so achy.

“So.” Dr. Jacobs gestured toward Tenontosaurus, who was rolling in the dirt. “Does this dump truck get a name?”

I held the glass soda bottle up to the sunshine. It had the same effect as the bull’s scales—brown, almost black, with a warm, gold shimmer. And his ornery vibe was definitely an, uh, acquired taste.

“Sarsaparilla,” I decided.

Dr. Jacobs gave a thoughtful pout and a nod. “Not bad.”

We spent a few more minutes sipping our drinks and watching Pine shift Trebek from a trot to a walk.

Now that I wasn’t so hot and beaten-down, I noticed Pine reaching forward to smooth his hand over the horse’s neck. Between gentle strokes, I noticed his lips moving, like he was whispering something to him. 

I guess he’d never been friends with an animal before, but it was funny how easy it came to him.

Maybe he wouldn’t stick around forever. But if he had to be here for now, I wanted to make sure he had more good days than bad.

I’d only just finished off my drink when Dr. Jacob’s phone rang.

She pulled it out of the pocket of her jeans. “Huh. It’s your momma.”

My heart tripped a stutter-step.

Dr. Jacobs swiped to answer.

Mom’s voice came through before she could even say hello. “We’ve got eyes on the raptor.”