I study it, trying to see a footprint or two, but all I see is the pool itself, complete with barnacle-looking things that crust the edges of the rocks and a half-buried beach-scorpion that might find itself on the wrong end of Devi’s knife if she notices he’s there. “What am I looking at?”
She makes a frustrated noise and gestures at the pool again. “The footprint!”
“Where?”
“Dude.” She puts a hand to my neck, as if trying to guide my face—and thus, my eyes. “Do you think tide pools normally have three big toes? Come on, Hannah.”
I stare down at the tide pool at my feet. I never noticed until now but she’s right. The pool isn’t rounded in the slightest. It’s elongated, narrowing down to an almost-point at one end, and the other end splays wide, with three jagged ends as if there are three toes.
Or three claws.
And the entire pool’s big enough to be a hot tub that would seat me and J’shel both.
Not that I’m thinking about him.
I rub my eyes. “I mean, how do you think this is a footprint?”
“Because they go up and down the beach, dummy. And they’re old, really old. Did you ever seen dinosaur tracks as a kid?” When I shake my head, she sighs. “They’re so old that the rock has formed around them. I’m guessing a long time ago this was a bog, or muddy, and when it dried out it preserved the tracks long enough that they’re still around to this day.” She points along the rocky beach. “They keep going all in that direction.”
I gaze where she points, and sure enough, I can see more pools. How did I never notice that they were all lined up and around the same size? “Do you think that the sa-kohtsk made them? The big thing with the long legs?”
She shakes her head, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “Those have rounded prints, like a sauropod. These sharper edges indicate that whatever was stepping here had claws, which indicates a carnivore, if their dinosaurs were anything like ours.”
“Well, thank god they’re just dinosaur tracks, right? That means a long time ago.”
“How do we know we’re not still in the age of dinosaurs on this world, though, right?” She practically dances with excitement. “I mean, we could be in the middle of an ice age brought on by volcanic activity.”
“And…that means they all died out, right?” I stare at the pool in front of me, feeling a little sick. I don’t want to see a meat eater this large anywhere near the beach.
“Some of the big guys could have survived, but their habits would have changed and adapted to follow the environmental changes. Isn’t that awesome? Can you imagine?” She clutches my arm. “I mean, I’m picturing it as a reptile, but I’m still thinking like how things were on earth. What if this planet’s dominant species were never reptilian? Or avian, I guess, since dinosaurs were really the ancestors of birds. Either way, they wouldn’t have trouble adapting to an ice age like a dinosaur would.” She squeezes my arm excitedly. “This is so amazing.”
“That’s…nice.” I don’t find any of this amazing, but I hate to poop all over her enthusiasm when she’s clearly thrilled to learn all this.
Devi sighs. “I’m nerding out, aren’t I? Sorry. This is just a dream come true for me. At first I was scared to be here, but the longer that I’m here, the more there is to learn, and it’s just a scientific wet dream, honestly. I’m starting from ground zero, but it’s making my brain work hard and that’s exciting, you know?”
“I wish I shared your enthusiasm,” I tell her honestly. “It would make being here so much easier to swallow.”
Her smile is kind, and she puts away her knife, gazing down at the pool before looking back at me. “What did you used to do back on Earth?”
I stiffen. “Why does everyone keep asking me that?” I retort. At her shocked look, I immediately feel ashamed. We’ve been talking about her science stuff, so of course she’s asking. She’s being polite. “I’m sorry, Devi. I…just can’t talk about it, okay? This place isn’t exciting for me. It’s a nightmare.”
She puts a sympathetic hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to bring up bad memories.”
There’s a hard knot in my throat, full of resentment and grief. “I was going to have…everything. Everything’s been ripped away.”
“We all lost our home.”
That wasn’t what I meant,