When Karenk, Flik, and I had embarked on our mission, I had tasked the others with positioning themselves under cover near the road, and rescuing the captives from the mud huts once we had provided the distraction with the pterodactyls. My hope had been that the Anunnaki would focus on the enraged pterodactyls, allowing our people time to escape. They were supposed to rendezvous with us at the encampment within the secret ravine Karune and I had explored earlier. If they couldn’t reach the ravine, I’d told them to escape via the road, cross the stone plain, and meet us at the edge of the forest.

  Upon arriving at the camp, Karenk, Flik and I were relieved to see that the rest of our party had indeed made it out of the city alive. Tolia, Ambrose, Trut, Karune, and Marta were accounted for, as was Fern. Upon seeing us, the baby triceratops bleated with excitement. Watching her made me think of the other newborn dinosaurs who I’d just flung to their deaths. Pushing the thought away, I stared at the throng accompanying our fellow rescuers, quickly estimating that there were a good fifty or sixty people packed into the ravine—men, women, and children, all of whom had been captured during the raid on our village. Both Karune’s sister and child were safe, as was Tolia’s son, Apotic. There were also a few strangers whom I didn’t recognize. I assumed they must have been from other tribes and locations across the Lost Level and had also suffered imprisonment by the Anunnaki. Some of the freed prisoners were armed with weapons stolen from their captors. Others had only their fists and wits. A few seemed injured or ill. But there was one face missing among them. I clambered down and entered the milling crowd, frantically searching for Kasheena.

  Now, you must remember, as you read this, I was not with them during the rescue attempt. I was busy causing the distraction. Perhaps you are disappointed that I can’t give you a full accounting, but I simply was not there. I learned later, from the others, that there was indeed a fight, and that there were also casualties among both the captives and the Anunnaki. Ambrose also bragged with noticeable pride about how Fern had even joined the fray, charging through the snake men’s ranks and knocking them over like bowling pins.

  I continued slipping through the throng of people, looking for Kasheena. She was nowhere in sight.

  “Ho, Aaron!” Ambrose made his way toward me, pushing through the throng. Many of the new arrivals stared at him in confusion or curiosity. “I think it is fair to say your plan worked.”

  I nodded. “Have you seen Kasheena, Ambrose?”

  “You must remember, my friend, I never met your lovely bride.”

  “Yes, but everyone else here has. You helped them rescue the captives. Was she among the prisoners?

  The sudden change in his expression turned my stomach to knots. He wheezed, his asthma obviously aggravated from their escape.

  “I believe you should speak with Tolia, Aaron.”

  “Why? Mr. Bierce, what’s going on? Where’s Kasheena?”

  “Aaron …” Chest heaving, Ambrose shook his head.

  Panicked, I glanced around for Tolia and saw her approaching me. Apotic was with her, as was a man I didn’t recognize. He was clad only in a dirty loincloth and his body was covered in crude black tattoos. He was armed only with a pointed stick. I ran to them.

  “Tolia, what happened to Kasheena? Where is she?”

  “Aaron, this is Patamoose.” She gestured to the tattooed stranger. “He is from a tribe on the other side of the stone plain. He was among the prisoners.”

  “Nice to meet you.” I nodded curtly and turned back to Tolia. “Tell me what’s going on. Is she … is she dead?”

  “Kasheena is your woman?” Patamoose asked. His accent was thick, but surprisingly, he spoke the same language as our tribe.

  “She is my partner,” I said. “Do you know her?”

  “I do. I was imprisoned with her. Had it not been for Kasheena, I would be dead now. All of us would. She gave us hope when there was none to be found. She kept us inspired—made us live.”

  “What happened to her?” I grasped his tattooed shoulder. “Did they kill her?”

  Patamoose tilted his head from side to side, indicating uncertainty. “I cannot say she is dead. I only know what they did with her. There is a great hole in the center of the city.”

  “The pit. I’ve seen it.”

  The rest of the group began to gather around us, listening intently.

  “A giant serpent dwells in the darkness at the bottom of that hole,” Patamoose continued. “The serpent is longer than any tree, as big as any of the thunder lizards, and yet, the hole is so deep that it cannot climb free. It, too, is a prisoner of the dragon men.”

  I thought of the great hissing noise we had heard on our way back down the mountain, wondering if it could have been this snake he spoke of.

  “Your people call them dragon men?” Trut asked. “Are you of the White Sand tribe?”

  “I am.” Patamoose nodded. “How do you know this?”

  Trut grinned. “I spent some time with your people when I was a young man. Good folk. There was a girl—”

  “Kasheena,” I interrupted. “What does the hole have to do with her?”

  “The dragon men worship the serpent as a god. They sacrifice some of the prisoners to it—lowering captives down on long ropes. They cut the ropes when the prisoner reaches the bottom. There is no escape from the pit. Kasheena was—”

  “I saw her.” I pounded my leg with my fist. “Goddamn it, I saw her earlier—saw them lowering somebody into the pit. But I was too far away. I couldn’t tell …”

  The group began to talk all at once. Some of them expressed shock and dismay at Kasheena’s fate. Others muttered in confusion. For a tribe who had no religion, other than the belief in a Creator who had made the Lost Level, it was puzzling to them why the Anunnaki would worship such a beast, and pay tribute to it with the blood of others.

  “Snakes are often slow to eat their meal,” Ambrose said.

  I blanched at the thought.

  He held up his hands. “All I am saying is that there may still be time, Aaron.”

  “Way ahead of you,” I replied. Then I turned to the group. “Tolia, I want you to lead everyone back to the village. I will—”

  “I am coming with you,” she insisted. “I have known Kasheena since we were babies. I will not let this be her fate. Not while I am breathing.”

  “Bullshit,” I countered. “You just got Apotic back, safe and sound. He already lost his father. I’ll be damned if he’s going to lose you, too.”

  “You listen to me, Aaron Pace—”

  “No, you listen to me, Tolia. I know you love Kasheena. So do I. But she is all I have here. You have someone else. Don’t let your thirst for revenge overwhelm your logic. You need to stay with Apotic.”

  She glanced down at her son. He hugged her waist and looked up at her with pleading, haunted eyes.

  “You are right,” Tolia said, looking back up at me. “It is not easy for me, but you are right.”

  Karenk stepped forward. “Then I will accompany you instead.”

  “Listen,” I shouted. “I don’t have time to argue with you people. You need to get everyone back to the village. It’s going to take all of you to do that. All of you. Each of you has a skill. A worth. Think about what it took to get here. To get home, it’s going to take Tolia’s leadership, Karenk’s strength, Trut’s knowledge of the landscape, Karune’s stealth, Flik’s speed, and Marta’s steadfastness. The tribe needs all of those things. The people back in the village need them even more. Our loved ones have been through enough already. Get them home safely—back to their families. Let Ambrose accompany you. Make him as welcome among our tribe as you made me. Fern, too.”

  They all stared at me. A few shuffled their feet, but no one spoke, and none other than Ambrose and Patamoose met my eyes.

  Finally, Tolia said quietly, “We will do as you wish, Aaron.”

  “Okay,” I said. “If there are no more arguments, somebody give me a sword.”

  Six blades were presented to me. I accepted Marta’s. She performed a slight bow.

  “Thank you for all you have done for our people, Aaron. I regret that I agreed with Apok when we started out. You are a good man. Apok was wrong. You are one of us.”

  “Thank you, Marta.”

  “Aaron …” Ambrose stuck out his hand. “We said our farewells once before. I trust they still hold?”

  I squeezed his sweaty palm. “They do. You’ll be safe among my people, Mr. Bierce. And I think they can use you.”

  Nodding, he smiled. “I think I can use them, too, Aaron. Good luck. I pray you find her in time.”

  I bid them all a quick goodbye, certain that I would never see any of them again. When they didn’t move, I urged them to flee and turned away. I heard several sobs behind me as I started along the ravine, but I did not turn around.

  “Hang on, Kasheena,” I whispered. “I’m coming …”

  After I’d gone a few hundred yards, I heard the faint, shuffling patter of bare feet on stone. Wheeling around, I saw Patamoose following along behind me, clutching his pointed stick defensively. His brow was furrowed.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “I come to help you, Aaron Pace. My tribe is far from here, and I do not know how to find them again. I also do not know your people, but I know Kasheena and I know how desperate you are. If you will not accept my help, then kill me now.”

  Sighing, I shook my head. “You’ll need more than that stick.”

  I yanked my combat knife from the makeshift sheath I’d fashioned from the blanket and handed the weapon to him. He appraised the blade with wonder.

  “This is fine craftsmanship. I will accept it gladly. Although, you may be surprised what I can do with this stick.”

  “Come on.” I turned. “Show me. And in case I don’t get a chance later … thank you.”

  The sounds of battle grew louder as we raced along the path, but I noticed that they weren’t as frenzied now. Gripping the laser pistol in one hand and the sword in the other, I rushed ahead, anxious to reach the pit. Patamoose kept pace with me, despite being barefoot. I heard no complaints from him, even though the ravine was littered with sharp fragments of rocks. He must have had either incredibly thick calluses on his feet or a high tolerance for pain. We hurried in silence; not talking, saving our breath for the task ahead.

  When we reached the edge of the city, I slid to a halt, gaping at the devastation. The courtyard was splattered with blood and body parts. The corpses of dead Anunnaki lay sprawled on the stones next to pulped baby pterodactyls. One of the adult pterodactyls also lay dead amidst the smashed ruins of a building. The creature’s carcass was stuck full of arrows and still bled from hundreds of bullet holes. The other pterodactyl limped along, croaking in pain, dragging a broken wing behind it. A group of Anunnaki armed with clubs and swords tried to encircle the beast, but each time one of them got near, the dinosaur lashed out, hissing and slashing at them with its beak and talons. Further into the city, fires raged inside three of the towering spires. They reminded me of Roman candles. Flames and smoke belched from the windows, curling into the sky. As I watched, a panicked Anunnaki flung itself from the top of one of the buildings, desperately trying to escape the heat and smoke. The snake man hit the ground like a rotten pumpkin, splashing across the cobblestones. The streets were filled with running figures, but I saw no indication of organization or leadership. The city’s inhabitants were operating on blind fear.

  I’d be a liar if I didn’t tell you the sight pleased me in a grim sort of way.

  Grunting, I hefted my weapons and charged into the fray, leaping over mangled corpses and heading toward that massive, yawning hole in the ground. Patamoose ran along at my side, his expression one of ironclad determination. A snake man stood in front of us, his attention fixed on the fires. I slashed his throat without slowing my pace, killing the reptilian before he was even aware of our presence. Anunnaki blood arced across my face and shoulders. I spat it from my lips. Two other snake men charged toward us, thrusting with their spears, but Patamoose spun and parried, blocking their attack with his stick. The sound of wood striking wood rang out. Before I could draw a bead with my laser pistol, he’d tripped them both, sending them sprawling, and then finished both opponents quickly by plunging the sharp end of his stick into their eyes, driving the point into their reptilian brains. They jittered and then went limp. Patamoose placed one foot on the nearest reptilian’s chest, and pulled his stick free with a wet, squelching sound.

  “You’re right,” I panted. “I’m impressed.”

  “Here come more of them,” he warned. “Get ready!”

  The scattered hordes began to charge toward us. Although the Anunnaki raised no audible cry—at least none that we could hear—I had a sense that an alarm had been raised. We fought on, hacking and slashing and thrusting. I dropped three more opponents with the laser pistol, and perhaps a half-dozen more with my sword. My new companion did just as well. Despite having spent his recent time in captivity, Patamoose fought like a man possessed, showing no signs of weakness or fragility. He killed seven reptilians with just his stick, and another two with the combat knife. Once again, he appraised the weapon with clear delight, wiping the blood from the gleaming blade.

  “I thank you again for this loan, Aaron.”

  “Keep it,” I said. “You’re better with it than I am.”

  We had almost reached the pit by the time the Anunnaki could muster any sort of organized response to our assault. They began to approach from all sides, armed with swords, axes, spears, and clubs. Only two of them had rifles, and another readied a longbow. I aimed for them first, even though they were furthest away from our location. While I sniped their riflemen, the rest of the Anunnaki pressed forward. Patamoose jumped up onto an overturned wheelbarrow and avoided a flurry of swinging blades. He kicked one reptilian in the face, pulping the creature’s left eye socket beneath his heel. The snake man stumbled backward, making no sound, but clawing at its ruined face. Then it tumbled into one of its companions, sending them both sprawling. Patamoose speared the second one in the stomach before it could recover from the fall, and then back-flipped off the wheelbarrow, landing at my side. Back to back, we stood there panting, as the enemy closed ranks around us.

  “You ready?” I asked.

  He tossed his head, flicking the sweat from his brow, and grunted in affirmation.

  The Anunnaki pressed forward. I counted twelve of them, with several more converging on us from across the courtyard. They had us surrounded on three sides. The only side open to us was the pit. It didn’t take a brilliant tactician to know what they intended to do. They were going to try to force us backward, into the chasm. If we didn’t go, then they’d kill us where we stood. I wondered how they would react if they knew that the bottom of the pit was our desired destination—albeit in one piece.

  Silently, the Anunnaki charged. Patamoose spun his stick, deftly parrying several blows at once. He ducked low and a sword passed over his head. He gutted the attacker with his knife. Coils of intestine slipped down over the blade. I fired the laser pistol from my hip, sweeping the invisible beam from left to right. Six snake men fell back, mouths open in anguish, their scaly skin bubbling and blackening. I caught a whiff of roasting meat. To my horror, my mouth started to water. Two more foes shoved their blistering compatriots aside and charged at me with lances extended. I dropped flat on the ground, landing in a pool of blood, and lashed out with my sword, lopping off their feet. The blade caught in the second opponent’s ankle bone, and I had to stand up to wrench it free. That was almost my undoing. A sword raked my side. Crying out, I recoiled, spinning to face the attacker, but Patamoose killed the reptilian before I could act, crushing the opponent’s throat with two blows from his stick.

  The last two stood facing us. Behind them, the other Anunnaki had slowed, gaping at the carnage we’d wrought. Then, slowly, they began to back away. I touched my side gingerly. My fingers grew slick with blood. Hurriedly examining the wound, I saw that it wasn’t bad—nothing more than a scratch, really. Infection was certainly a possibility, especially if the Anunnaki had deliberately coated the blade with some sort of toxin, but I would have to worry about that later.

  Patamoose’s shoulders heaved as he gasped for breath. “You are hurt?”

  I shook my head. “It’s just a scratch. How about you?”

  “One of them kicked my shin. That hurts. Otherwise, I am fine.”

  Across the plaza, the last pterodactyl cawed mournfully as a snake man thrust a spear into the dying creature’s eye. The dinosaur shuddered, flapping about weakly, and then collapsed. It breathed once, twice—and then lay still.

  “Come on.” I hurried over to the edge of the pit. “We don’t have much time. Without the pterodactyl to distract them, they’ll be back on us with reinforcements in another minute.”

  “Ptero …?”

  “The dinosaur. We call it a pterodactyl.”

  “That is an odd name,” Patamoose replied. “My people call it the Thunderbird.”

  Across the plaza, the Anunnaki were slowly regrouping, pointing and glancing in our direction. Then, they started to approach.

  “We can discuss linguistics later, my friend.”

  Patamoose pointed. “There is the rope they used earlier. It is tied to yonder pole.”

  I picked up the frayed end of the rope and saw that it had been cut—or more likely sawed. It was made of thick, coarse fibers, and I had no doubt it would hold our weight. I just hoped it was long enough to reach the bottom. I tossed it over the side and watched it disappear into the blackened depths.