Alcatraz Versus the Evil Librarians

with a sudden burst of Crystin speed.
    The stairs they had come up were the very same stairs that we ourselves had come up a few hours before. That meant the door I wanted was –
    I threw my weight against it, pushing open the door and stepping into a room filled with caged dinosaurs.
    “Good day!” said Charles. “I see that you have not ended up dead. What a pleasant surprise!”
    “Did you bring us something to eat? The Tyrannosaurus asked hopefully.
    “Better,” I said, then rushed into the room, touching the cage locks as I moved. Each one my fingers brushed against snapped open, the complicated gears inside breaking easily before my Talent.
    “Why, what a good chap you are!” Charles said. The group of twenty dinosaurs agreed with eager, loud voices.
    “I’ve freed you,” I said. “But I need something in return. Can you cause a disturbance downstairs for me?”
    “Of course, my good fellow!” Charles said. “We’re excellent at creating disturbances, aren’t we George?”
    “Indeed, indeed!” said the Stegosaurus.
    With that, I stepped aside, waving eagerly, trying to begin a stampede of undersized dinosaurs. They, of course, filed out of the room in a very gentlemanly manner – for, as everyone knows, all British are refined, calm, and well-mannered. Even if they are a bunch of dinosaurs.
    I followed the group out of the room, trying to whip them into a frenzy – or at least a mild agitation.
    “ That’s your plan?” Bastille asked flatly, standing above two unconscious Librarians.
    “They’ll make a disturbance,” I said. “I mean, they’re dinosaurs .”
    Bastille and Sing shared a look.
    “What?” I said. “Don’t you think it’ll work?”
    “You know very little about dinosaurs, Alcatraz,” Bastille said as the dinosaurs went down the stairs to the first floor.
    We waited. We waited for painful minutes, hiding in the Forgotten Language room. We heard no cried of panic. No yells for help. No sounds of people being chewed up by rampaging bloodthirsty reptiles.
    “Oh, for goodness’ sake!” I said, rushing from the room and running over to the hallway with the broken floor. I got on my hands and knees and peered through the opening, hoping to catch a glimpse of chaos below.
    Instead, I saw the dinosaurs sitting in a group, several stacks of books settled around them. One of them – the Stegosaurus – appeared to be reading to the others.
    “Dinosaurs,” Bastille said. “Useless.”
    “They are easily distracted by books, Alcatraz,” Sing said. “I don’t think they’re going to help much.”
    “Hey!” I called with an annoyed voice. “Charles.”
    The little Pterodactyl looked up. “Ah, my good friend!”
    “What about the chaos?” I demanded.
    “Done!” Charles said.
    “We each moved six books out of their proper places,” called George the Stegosaurus. “It will take them days to find them all and put them back.”
    “Though we did put them into place backward,” Charles said. “You know, so they could be seen more easily. We wouldn’t want it to be too hard.”
    “Too hard?” I asked, stupefied. “Charles, these are the people who were going to kill you and bury your bones in an archaeological dig!”
    “Well, that’s no reason to be uncivilized!” Charles said.
    “Indeed!” called a duck-billed dinosaur.
    I knelt, blinking.
    “Dinosaurs,” Bastille said again. “Useless.”
    “Don’t worry, my Oculator friend!” Charles called. “We gave them a little extra kick! We had Douglas eat the entire science fiction section!”
    “Well,” admitted Douglas the T. Rex, “I only ate the ‘C’ section. Honestly – claiming that Velociraptors were the smartest dinosaurs? I knew a Velociraptor in college, and he failed chemistry. Plus, resurrecting a character just because he didn’t die in the movie? Poppycock, I say!”
    I sat back. Bastille had the dignity not to say, “I told you so.” Or, at least, she had the dignity not to say it a third time.
    We need another plan. Another plan. Can’t stop to think about the failure. We need to draw the Dark Oculator away. Need to…
    I stood, steeling my nerves.
    “Another idea?” Sing asked, clearly a little apprehensive.
    I took off again. Sing and Bastille followed reluctantly. But they hadn’t come up with anything better. My failure with the dinosaurs had come from relying on misinformation. In most books, two dozen rampaging dinosaurs would have been a distraction worth of even