38
We approach the archway of the Great Hall. It’s like the Arc de Triumph in Paris, except bigger and covered in alien symbols. Behind it, the reflective Glass dome, giving no clue as to what’s inside.
Pip keeps looking over his shoulder.
‘The Rex won’t be coming back,’ I say.
‘I’m not thinking abouts the Rex. I’m thinking abouts—’
‘Klaus is dead.’
‘Ya, we thoughts that before.’
I regale Pip with a tale of Klaus’ demise. I highlight how Klaus had no use of his limbs when he was hanging from the mouth of a Tyrannosaurus rex, the same Rex who had killed two adult T. rexes and a Spinosaurus in recent memory.
‘He’s gone, and this time he’s not coming back.’
‘Did he says anything about why he did whats he did?’
Even with a knife stuck in his shoulder, he wouldn’t say why.
‘No, Pip.
