“Sir,” he scolded with his usual British etiquette, “we must reach the American Museum of Natural History before eight o’clock. We have a strict appointment.”

The driver lifted both hands from the wheel in a forlorn gesture. “Mack, what do you want me to do? Whole city’s a parking lot at this hour.”

Uncle Edward leaned back and folded his hands in his lap.

A grumble rose from the passenger seat up front. “Take that corner up ahead,” Morgan Drummond commanded. “Cut through the park. Quit trying to run up the bloody meter.”

The driver looked ready to argue; but after seeing something in Drummond’s face, he hauled hard on the wheel and bumped over the curb to make the turn.

Kady reached to the pack at her waist. “Uncle Edward, I have my cell phone if you want to call your friend and tell him we’ll be late.”

“We won’t be late,” Morgan said, and turned to the driver. “Will we?”

The driver hunkered lower over his wheel.

Jake studied the back of Morgan’s head, trying to figure out the man. The Brit had insisted on accompanying them to the city to act as their bodyguard after yesterday’s attack.

This morning, Uncle Edward had attempted to talk them out of going—or at least to postpone the trip—but Jake had balked, supported by Kady, who insisted that she wanted to go shopping. Uncle Edward eventually crumbled, knowing it was best not to come between Kady and a sale at Saks Fifth Avenue.

Even Aunt Matilda thought it best to get the children out of harm’s way for the day. She had a cleaning crew scheduled to come in, along with insurance adjusters. The police would continue to keep an extra eye on the place.

So at the crack of dawn, they all headed to the train station for the ride to the city. Now, two hours later, the Town Car finally pulled to the curb in front of the American Museum of Natural History. Stone steps scaled up to the row of giant pillars at the museum’s entrance. The massive building looked like a great temple, one dedicated to science. Over the years, Jake had spent countless days worshipping in its halls and sprawling exhibits.

As he popped the car door open, his heart pounded harder.

He shared a look with Kady. Her eyes shone. Jake knew that she must feel it, too. The pressure of the past day had grown almost painful. He climbed out, anxious to get inside and begin their search.

“C’mon,” he urged the others, and hiked his backpack over his shoulder. In preparation, he had donned hiking boots and loose pants, and wore a vest with scores of pockets, filling them with everything he might need for a return to Pangaea.

Kady was similarly attired in clothes suited for the field: a pair of jeans, a T-shirt under a loose blouse, and boots—though the heels looked more suited for a catwalk than a woodland trail. She also had a chic Louis Vuitton pack snapped around her waist.