“Roger that,” said Kade, and the lot of them fled deeper into the jungle, following the dinosaurs away from the sound of roaring.
12 HAPPY LITTLE TREES
“NOT WHAT YOU EXPECTEDwhen you got out of bed this morning, is it?” asked Kade, panting with the effort of keeping up with Cora. She was always faster than he expected her to be, even though he knew well and good that out of the pair of them,shewas the athlete. He was happier sitting in his room sewing or working on the Compass, while Cora was like as not running laps around the school or swimming in the turtle pond, a habit which no longer particularly upset the turtles.
“I’ve learned never to expect anything specific,” said Cora. “Ididexpect the day to be a little shorter. It was night when we left, but it’s been daylight in every place we’ve gone with windows. Does your Compass tell us why that is?”
“Nope.” Kade looked after Antsy with something like yearning in his expression. “Never had the access or the opportunity to learn.”
“Kade…” Cora swallowed back a terrible suspicion. “You can’t stay at the Store, even if you want to know those things. Eleanor needs you. The school needs you.”I need you,she thought but didn’t say aloud. Her crush was one-sided, and she knew that. Still, Kade’s presence did so much to keep the school running as smoothly as it did. Maybe it wasn’t fair to put so much on his shoulders when he was still technically a student, but he’d taken most of that weight on willingly, and at this point, too much would collapse without him. Eleanor needed him, both as an assistant and a family member.
Although maybe it was time they start thinking about seriously talking to Eleanor, finding out what responsibilities could be shifted from Kade to other members of the school community who had no intention of leaving after graduation. They needed fewer potential points of failure. Especially since she knew that Eleanor herself was counting the days until her door would open again, and she’d be welcomed back into her land where up was down, down was up, and nothing had to matter more than a moment.
Well, right now, it was the moments that mattered most. Whatever had roared behind them wasn’t roaring anymore. Instead, it was pursuing their group through the jungle, every footstep striking the earth with an audible thud that seemed like it should have been shaking them off of their feet. Stephanie and her family were well ahead of the others, familiar with the terrain, using the tree roots and lowest branches as leverage to boost themselves further or as jumping platforms, letting them cover more ground, more quickly.
Sumi and Emily were both behind. They were athletes in their own way, the warrior and the dancer, and they were both fast when they wanted to be. For all Sumi’s casual insistence that Confection would call her home when the timeline decided it was ready for her, she still trained, hard, for that day, knowing that once she went back, she’d have to defeat the Queen of Cakes in order to claim the happy ending she believed was waiting. Emily… even if she was never going to be a professional ballerina, she still danced, and dancing involved a general level of physical fitness.
Which left Cora pacing Kade, even though she could have gone much faster, so as not to leave him alone.
“I know,” he said, glumly. There was a wheezing note in his voice that Cora didn’t care for. “I also… know… that I… should join… PE class… when we… get home.”
“Yeah, you probably should,” she said, and smiled at him as they ran.
One of Stephanie’s dinosaurs had doubled back and ran with them, making small sounds of concern that wouldn’t have been out of place coming from a giant pigeon. Cora tried to wave it off.
“We’re good,” she said. “Just slow.”
The dinosaur made a disapproving noise. Cora managed, barely, not to laugh at the ridiculousness of the whole situation, and focused on running instead, just as the beast that had been chasing them burst out of the trees.
Kade suddenly found a burst of speed that he’d previously been unable to access, and raced on ahead of them, leaving Cora blinking after him.
“Coward,” she muttered, and glanced back.
The beast was another dinosaur, that much was obvious, but one built on a much larger scale. Stephanie’s family was made up of predators, no question; with their teeth and talons, they couldn’t have been anything else. This one, however, was at least ten times their size, and had only patches of feathers around its neck and at the end of its long, thick tail, like ornamentation more than plumage. She might have called it something akin to aTyrannosaurus rex,only a monster example of its kind, and also chasing her.
The dinosaur that had come back to check on her slowed, putting itself between her and the terror, and roared its own challenge, feathers puffing out until it was almost spherical. Cora kept running. She felt bad for doing that, but she hadn’tasked the dinosaur to endanger itself, and she wasn’t going to waste the time it might have bought her.
The others were up ahead—she could still see them, and she’d been holding back to run with Kade. While none of them could possibly outpace the monster dinosaur for long, she could at least speed up until she felt the burning in her lungs.
The smaller dinosaur popped back up, running beside her. “Glad… you… didn’t… get… eaten,” Cora gasped, feeling slightly more sympathy for Kade’s earlier lack of air.
Not much, though.
Up ahead of them, the others had disappeared. That was a little alarming. Cora kept running. The pair entered a clearing, and the dinosaur darted ahead, stopping at the mouth of what looked like a hollowed-out log tilting downward into the unseen.
“May as well,” said Cora, and jumped in, giving no thought to the tightness of the space.
It was narrow, but not too narrow for her to fit, and she began to slide at once, gathering speed even before the smaller dinosaur landed against her back, pressing her down at a faster pace. Cora kept her legs straight and her hands pressed against her sides, thinking compressed thoughts. It was like a waterslide with no water. The wood was slick around her, worn smooth by wind and water and, she presumed, past escapes of this nature; she hit no obstacles as she slid down, and was going so fast, it took her already-labored breath away by the time she shot out the other end, landing in a patch of those towering ferns with a thump.
“Oh thank God, Cora,” said Kade, hurrying to help her up. “I thought we’d lost you.”
“You’re the one who left me behind,” she said, blinking against the light as she took his hand. Everything was blurry after the long fall through the dark.
“I knew you were holding back to pace me, and when Godzilla popped up, guess I just panicked. You’re all right? You’re not hurt anywhere?”
“I don’t think I am.” Cora pushed herself to her feet, plucking a fern frond out of her hair. “I think I’ll skip my run tomorrow.”
“I think you’re entitled.”