Stay bricky.

Mr. Darwin was alive. He would make it back to the Beagle and then he would search for me. Robbins too. Captain Fitzroy would figure out the wind direction and speed and make calculations with the maps and his fancy navigation equipment to work out where I was likely to have ended up. I just needed to stay calm and survive until they arrived.

I forced myself to look around me and concentrate hard on what I saw. As Mr. Darwin said on the first day he took me as his own servant, “You will learn to observe and adapt, Covington. Open eyes lead to an open mind.”

I’d prepared enough expeditions to know what was needed, but all of them had been well planned and provisioned. Maudlin thoughts of thick canvas tents I didn’t have weren’t going to help me find water, and I now remembered that most of the Galapagos Islands had no fresh water supply. Suddenly the driving rain went from being my enemy to my closest friend. I raised my face to the sky and let the rain tumble into my mouth until my neck cricked but my belly was tight.

It wasn’t easy to get a sense of the time in the endless gray, but a patch of cloud glowed lighter than the rest and I guessed it was afternoon—might be time to find shelter before dark.

I struggled to my feet and began to stumble inland toward the dots of greenery in the direction of the volcano. Anything would be better than the bare rock I was currently surrounded by.

A tremendous screech sent my hands clinging to my ears. The sound jangled through my bones and I stumbled forward onto my hands and knees.

What the blazes?

A shadow swept over, blocking the rain, beating me with gusts of new wind. I covered my head as it passed, a second sickening shriek pounding my ears. What on God’s earth could make such a racket? A bird? The frigate birds and albatross were big, but …

I staggered back to my feet, searching the sky before being punched forward, something gripping me from shoulder to leg. I was plucked from the ground, as an owl might snatch a mouse, and swept up, unbelievably, into the air.

The rocks I had been walking upon seconds ago were left far below as I was swept higher and higher, facedown and carried side on, the wind whistling in my ears and watering my eyes. Could this be all in my own mind? Was I dreaming? Sent into a flight of fancy by my ordeal at sea? I kicked at the air, my arms pinned tight to my sides in the grip that held my whole torso captive. I twisted and writhed, trying to get free, before realizing that this may not be a good idea at such a great height …

I tried to slow my ragged breaths, taking them up the stairs and down, and forced my legs to hang limp. I looked down to see what imprisoned me. Colossal claws, as long as my forearm, attached to scaled bronze toes. They circled me from my chest to the top of my legs.