See part one for explanation and disclaimers. Hallmark & James Gurney still own the characters and I’m still not profiting from this. Hope you’re enjoying this. Still recommended for teens and up for action/violence and mild language.

Marion’s words, coupled with the desperation in eyes that pleaded for him to believe her, a look that was reinforced by the fear for him that telegraphed itself along her empathic connection to him, had erased all David’s suspicions of her motives, had sucked the last residue of resistance right out of him. All thoughts of the boat and the submarine and off-world had vanished completely, he didn’t even notice the water that was up to his knees as he stood beside the boat.

Marion was right---if there was even a chance that what Marion said was the truth, if his life had been stolen, screwed up by his own actions or the intervention of someone else, it should make him angry.

His thoughts were full of blue visions from another lifetime and of friends and a family...friends and family he still didn’t know if he believed were his own. It was a quirky and imperfect little family, no question…David hadn’t been friends with Frank the Father the way he was with Frank the Friendly Tavern owner, and Karl the Brother had been every bit as aggravating as Karl the Gung-Ho Skybax Rider. Barrett remembered squabbling, was that all that they did as a family? Did David even want that life back if it was possible to change history? He wasn’t sure.

David would never know if he got into that boat, got onto that submarine, and sailed off this island. He wouldn’t know if he didn’t take a leap of faith, give the ‘topians one more chance to prove what they were saying. But, leaps of faith weren’t his style. It had been a long time since he’d had faith—real faith---in anything besides people’s willingness to use him and his ability to keep them from doing so, and a longer time since he’d felt friendship and family beyond the fleeting bonds with a very few members of the pack…

…If it was all true.

Dinotopians don’t lie.

David glanced down at the pool of river water swirling around the boat. He could have sworn for a minute there that he saw the reflection in blue of that other David---with Frank’s eyes and wearing the skybax rider’s uniform---staring back at him. Then the blue image faded and only the scarred, scruffy, dark-clad Outsider gazed back at him.

She wasn’t even aware she was holding her breath while she waited, watching as, very slowly, he finally released his grip on the small boat. It was carried away by the river’s current, and with it all possibility of escape. He waded back onto the shore, striding directly for her. She backed up a step nervously, not knowing what to expect from him. He was gazing into her eyes with unsettling intensity. When he stopped, standing inches from her, she was afraid he might kiss her again.

Instead, he reached out to wrap his fingers around her hand, prying the rock she didn’t realize she was still holding poised over the Tohma Faiere from her grasp. David dropped the rock onto the sand.

“Wh—what I meant to say was…” She began, cheeks flushing crimson under that stare.

He interrupted, and that enigmatic smile of his widened. “You know, I think I get it now.”

She frowned, perplexed. “Get what?”

The Outsider raised his hand and tucked a wayward strand of her hair back behind her ear. It might be worth spending the rest of his life as a dino-nerd on this sinkhole if it meant getting to see her every day. “How Scott can give up on the real world so easy,” was all David said. Then he withdrew his hand and brushed past her, heading back towards the Sanctuary.

Hands trembling just a bit, Marion retrieved the Tohma Faiere and followed him.

10

Romana Denison was afraid.

Not afraid of the carnosaurs, even though only a thin veil of sunstone light separated her from the predators. That kind of threat she understood; she could accept and cope with the kind of fear that they presented. This fear was different. It was from uncertainty born of questions she had no possibility of answering. It was like a cold fist around her heart, a knot burning in the pit of her stomach. It nagged at her mind with every Dinotopian—human or saurian--- and every home and farm she passed above. It dogged her every second of the flight from the Sanctuary of the Falls to the Scott’s tavern.

She knew the myth of the Tohma Faiere…and until yesterday, she was convinced that ‘myth’ was all they were. Stories of meteorites that could reshape reality, that had wiped out entire species of saurian predators, with but a thought from their users couldn’t be true. Not believing that the stones existed until yesterday, Romana had never given those rumors any thought at all.

She thought about those stories now. What if the attempts to destroy the carnosaurs had succeeded? She thought of saurian species erased in a bit of reptilian genocide by the wishes of ignorant humans, and felt a surge of pity for what would have been lost and forgotten forever. Thought of it and wondered what might have been so blithely and completely wiped from existence in this altered reality. The mental picture of the fabric of what she knew as ‘reality’ being torn, the timeline that made her world fractured and bent in a new direction, unsettled her deeply. What if other predators had been created, for instance? She imagined trying to do her job and protect Dinotopia with more than T-Rex and pteranodons to face down. What if there had been velociraptors to contend with when the sunstones failed? Or something worse? How many more people would have died? And what of that---were the people who would have been devoured if velociraptors existed here living lives that shouldn’t be? What if there were no pteranodons and T-Rex at all? Nothing to fear? No reason for the Corps? What would her life be like then?

How many more splinters had branched off that first fracture in time? Who among the humans and saurians she was soaring above right now lived due to the faith stone’s power? How many had been meant to survive? Was Romana meant to be alive now or should she have been killed by during an attack by one of the predator species?

The musings about what had changed before weren’t as disturbing as the speculations about what was yet to come. If Marion was right---and Romana had no doubt of that---what happened when the timeline was corrected? Would Romana still exist? Would she still be a skybax rider? She couldn’t imagine a reality in which she was anything else. Would her parents still be dead or were their deaths a fact only in this fractured timeline? Would she still hate Ganja fruit? And would she lose all her memories of this reality when it was repaired? Would she cease to exist due to the loss of memories of being this Romana or would she cease to exist because she hadn’t survived in the ‘real’ timeline? What happened when whatever that Outsider did to the timeline now was undone?

No, it wasn’t just the Outsider’s doing. The Outsider couldn’t have known how to use the faith stone---how could he when he couldn’t speak saurian or read footprint language? Karl was involved. She had seen the stone glow for him. And if Marion was sending her to fetch Jack, then the boy must be mixed up in this as well. David Barrett wasn’t the only one to blame. Why did that make Romana feel better? Why was she leaping to his defense? Romana shook her head at her own ridiculousness. You hate thieves, outsiders, and all other rule-breakers and troublemakers, remember? It doesn’t matter if they have nice eyes or how handsome they are…

It was too much to take in, the prospects were too chilling, so Romana did what she did whenever she was truly and deeply afraid: She fell back on duty. Being distracted by ‘what ifs’ was the fastest way to start second-guessing. Second-guessing lead to hesitation and death in a fight with the carnosaurs, and it would do her no good in this situation. The decisions were out of her hands, she could only do her job. That’s what would help Dinotopia—help her friends—right now.

The Scott’s tavern was darkened when Romana’s pterosaur landed. That was unusual…even with the night approaching, Frank and Jack weren’t the type to be abed at this early hour. There should be a few patrons still lingering, but the place looked deserted. Maybe they were in Waterfall City, at Flippeau’s or looking for Karl. That wouldn’t be unusual at all. She was just on edge because of the scuffle with Gabriel Dane that morning and her own musings about the Tohma Faiere. There was no reason why the stillness should alarm Romana.

But it did.

“Hello? Mr. Scott? Jack?” Romana called as she approached the tavern door---very slowly. She took her time, having a good look around the area for anything amiss. No one answered her.

Romana crept, careful not to even let the boards beneath her feet squeak, to the gull-wing doors. She squinted into the darkened tavern. The sunset light was fading and there wasn’t so much as a candle burning to pierce the gloom. “Hello?” she called into the darkness.

A squeal---distinctly saurian---responded this time. There was the noise of pounding feet and a shape bounded out of the shadows. Sometime tiny and strong bowled into the skybax rider’s legs and almost knocked Romana down. It was Twenty-Six, and the baby casmasaur was wild-eyed with fear. Her pterosaur bellowed in sympathy to the baby’s agitation as Twenty-Six butted her head against Romana’s legs and tried to climb into the human’s arms.

Romana scooped up the tiny dinosaur, “Ssh!” It wasn’t a noise of comfort---the saurian’s terror warned the human that she’d been correct before…something was very wrong here. Romana needed the casmasaur to stop squealing and be silent, just in case whoever or whatever had frightened it was still in the vicinity…

As Romana’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could begin to discern objects inside the tavern. Nothing was amiss---no chairs or tables were overturned, nothing was broken, and there were no signs of a fight or an attack. The only anomaly was the complete absence of Frank or Jack. Romana left Twenty-Six outside the door before creeping into the tavern. She paused to pick up one of the chairs, ready to swing it if anything remotely unfriendly should lunge out of the darkness.

“Hello? Jack? Mr. Scott?”

Romana heard a thump. It had come from the floor.

No, it had come from beneath the floor. How could---?

The basement! The previous owner, the man who had given Frank the tavern, had built a basement in which to hide during carnosaur rampages. That’s what had saved Frank and Jack during the last sunstone failure while Karl and Romana were away holding off the T-Rex and pteranodons. Dropping the chair, Romana ran to the trapdoor and pulled it open.

Jack was down there---bound to a chair and gagged, illuminated only by one meager candle. He was kicked the table next to his chair to attract her attention. Still, Romana didn’t jump blinding down there to help. “Jack? Is anyone else here?” she asked first.

Jack shook his head ‘no’. She’d have to take his word for it. Romana climbed through the door and down the ladder into the basement. She removed his gag first, and then set about untying him.

“Dad!” Jack cried as soon as he could speak. “He took Dad!” The boy’s face was streaked with tears and the ropes had chaffed his wrists, but otherwise he didn’t look hurt.

“What? Who did?”

Jack reached into his shirt pocket, fishing for something. “Big guy. Dark skin. Built like a Humvee---”

Romana frowned, “A what?”

“---he said to give this to David Barrett when I saw him. That Barrett would know what it meant.” Jack pulled one of Frank’s playing cards from his pocket and gave it to the skybax rider. His eyes beseeched her to help.

Romana examined the card. It was the King of Clubs, and it had been defaced. Someone---Frank’s abductor---had drawn a mangled arm on the King, along with adding a leg. The leg was in a shackle. A tiny T-Rex had been sketched behind the king. Romana had no idea what it meant. She hoped Barrett did.

“Why did he take Frank?” she asked.

“How should I know?!” Jack snapped. “I gotta tell Karl! Wait—where is Karl?!” The boy was panicking, not that she blamed him. Romana took a firm hold on his shoulder.

“Calm down, Jack. He’s waiting for you at the Sanctuary. I’ll take you to him. We’ll find your father, I promise.”

*

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