“Not to interrupt the moment,” one of the other men said, “but there’s a secesh raiding party not far away and now that we’ve found you, we need to get you safely back to the Union camp so you can report to General Sheridan immediately.”
“Report?” Amaya said. Cymbeline whirled to face her.
“What’s secesh mean?” Sabeen asked.
“It’s short for secessionist, lil’ darlin’,” one of the men said. “Confederates. The baddies.”
“Why do you guys all look exactly the same?” Two Step demanded.
“Like, literally identical,” Mapper added.
Card tilted his head. “This here’s my older brother, Card. And that” — he nodded to the other rider — “That’s my younger brother, Card.”
“And you youngens must be the crew from Dactyl Hill. Pleased to meet ya!” the younger Card said. “We’ve heard great things.”
“Heard?” Magdalys seethed at Cymbeline.
“Great things?” Amaya finished for her.
Cymbeline glanced back and forth between them.
The older Card doffed his gray cap. “Indeed. But my brother’s correct. We gotta get a-movin’, folks.” He shot a worried glance at the moonlit sky.
“How far to the camp?” Cymbeline asked.
“Far enough that we’ll need you to hop on the back of our paras if we’re gonna make it safely.”
Magdalys had been so busy glaring at Cymbeline, she hadn’t bothered getting a better look at the mounts.
The parasaurolophus, Dr. Sloan wrote in the Dinoguide, is among the most noble and versatile of all dinomounts. With their elegant crest stretching like a plume behind their head, they strike an impressive visage on four legs or two. They are equally at home grazing amidst the swaying North American grasslands or trundling amorously through the deciduous forest mountains of the middle states. (What, Magdalys had tried not to wonder, did it mean to trundle amorously?) What’s more, the parasaurolophus makes a whimsical, intelligent companion whether one plans a long journey, is preparing for battle, or simply wants a gentle beast of burden nearby who can perform menial tasks and act as a loyal co-conspirator in gentle pranks and assorted shenanigans. (“Dr. Sloan is a weirdo,” Two Step had said, reading over Magdalys’s shoulder in the orphanage library.)
The Cards’ three paras stepped (or trundled amorously, Magdalys supposed) into the lamplight. She’d never seen one before. They were shaped a little like their cousin dinos, the iguanadons, which could be seen promenading the streets of Manhattan and Brooklyn Heights beneath their wealthy masters. The paras had those same thick hind legs and wide hips that curved forward into arched backs and smaller torsos, with long, arm-like forelegs extending toward the ground. Those bony crests that Dr. Sloan called elegant reached up and back from their short snouts, and their sunken-in eyes blinked at the world with an irritated, skeptical squint.
“What about Stella?” Magdalys said. “And the others?”
“Stella?” one of the Cards asked, raising a bushy blond eyebrow.
“Our pteranodon,” Mapper said proudly.
“Oh, that’s what that big ol’ ptero y’all flew in on is?”
“I’m sure General Sheridan would love to have a look at that one,” the older Card said.
“Mmhm,” the middle Card agreed.
Magdalys wasn’t sure if she was more upset at herself for bringing up Stella in the first place or Mapper for spilling the beans. More than anything though, she was furious with Cymbeline for keeping so many secrets. Everything was happening faster than she could keep track of and none of it was bringing her any closer to Montez.
Out in the field, Stella stirred. There was no telling what would happen if the Union Army got their hands on her.
Go! Magdalys commanded. Stella looked up sharply. Magdalys felt the raw power of her glare, the huge creature’s unwillingness to leave her side. Fly. Stay away from any signs of humans. We’ll be … we’ll be alright.
In a single, fluid leap, Stella crouched low and hurled herself into the air, sending a flush of wind across the field with her enormous wings.
Cymbeline shot Magdalys a look. Magdalys watched the huge shadow disappear into the moonlit night. The dactyls must’ve scattered to scavenge for dinner; the sky was empty.
Except.
A flutter of movement over the far end of the field caught Magdalys’s eye just as an eerie howl sounded over the breeze and chirping crickets.
“What was —” Mapper said.
“Confederate Air Cavalry!” Card yelled. “No time to argue. Everyone get on a para. We gotta move out.”
Shadowy shapes flitted across the sky toward them as more howling sounded and then a series of flashes erupted from above amidst the crackle of gunfire.
“Let’s go!” Card yelled.
This book, more than any other I’ve written, has felt like it really did take a squad to make happen. Of course! First and foremost, I am deeply grateful to Nick Thomas and Weslie Turner — I could not ask for two more brilliant editors. You are both gifts.
Thank you to the whole team at Scholastic, who have been amazing throughout this process, especially Arthur A. Levine, Lizette Serrano, Emily Heddleson, Tracy van Straaten, Rachel Feld, Isa Caban, and Erik Ryle.
As soon as this project became a reality, I wanted Nilah Magruder to do the art for it, so working with her has been an actual-factual dream come true. She brings Magdalys and the crew to life with so much verve and excellence. I am so grateful. A huge thank you also to Afu Chan for the absolutely terrific Dactyl Hill Squad logo and to the unstoppable Christopher Stengel for bringing it all together, as always, magnificently.
To Eddie Schneider and Joshua Bilmes and the whole team at JABberwocky Lit: you are awesome. Thank you.
Many thanks to Leslie Shipman at the Shipman Agency and Lia Chan at ICM. Thanks to Chris Myers for planting the idea of writing a Middle Grade fantasy in my imagination as we shared a taxi downtown one afternoon.
Thank you to my wonderful beta readers: Leigh Bardugo, Laurie Halse Anderson, Nic Stone, Brittany Nicole Williams, Adisa Terry (who at twelve years old gave some of the best notes I’ve gotten), and Darcie Little Badger. Huge thanks to Kortney Ziegler at Black Star Media for his wisdom and thoughts about Redd. Thanks to Sorahya Moore for being a wonderful mentee and friend and curating the list of great old-time slang at the end.
Besides writing one of the books that inspired this story, In the Shadow of Slavery, Leslie Harris was also kind enough to provide her insight on early drafts of Dactyl Hill Squad and I am so grateful. I also want to thank Shane White and Barnet Shecter, for their historical expertise, and Don Lessem for his help with the dinos. All incorrect historical or dinofactual matter is my own fault and it’s probably on purpose, unless it’s in the appendix and then it’s totally my bad. Either way, don’t try any of this at home.
Thanks always to my amazing family, Dora, Marc, Malka, Lou, Calyx, and Paz. Thanks to Iya Lisa and Iya Ramona and Iyalocha Tima, Patrice, Emani, Darrell, April, and my whole Ile Omi Toki family for their support; also thanks to Oba Nelson “Poppy” Rodriguez, Baba Craig, Baba Malik, Mama Akissi, Mama Joan, Sam, Tina, Jud, and all the wonderful folks of Ile Ase. And thank you, Brittany, for everything.
I give thanks to all those who came before us and lit the way. I give thanks to all my ancestors; to Yemonja, Mother of Waters; gbogbo Orisa, and Olodumare.
Daniel José Older has always loved monsters, whether historical, prehistorical, or imaginary. His debut series for young adults, the Shadowshaper Cypher, has earned starred reviews, the International Latino Book Award, and New York Times Notable Book and NPR Best Books of the Year picks, among other accolades. His books for adults include Star Wars: Last Shot, the Bone Street Rumba urban fantasy series, and The Book of Lost Saints. He has worked as a bike messenger, a waiter, a teacher, and was a New York City paramedic for ten years. Daniel splits his time between Brooklyn and New Orleans. You can find out more about him at danielj
oseolder.net.
Text copyright © 2018 by Daniel José Older
Art copyright © 2018 by Nilah Magruder
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While inspired by real events and historical characters, this is a work of fiction and does not claim to be historically accurate or portray factual events or relationships. Please keep in mind that references to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales may not be factually accurate, but rather fictionalized by the author.
First printing 2018
Cover art © 2018 by Nilah Magruder
Title treatment by Afu Chan
Cover design by Christopher Stengel
e-ISBN 978-1-338-26883-6
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