Lord Garrett Embrey is on the run. The Leviacrum Council, the secretive scientific body that holds sway over the Empire, executed his father and uncle and now they want him dead too.
Professor Cecil Reardon is consumed by grief. Since his wife and son died he's been obsessed with his work, and now he is on the verge of an extraordinary scientific breakthrough: his machine is about to breach time itself, to undo fate's cruel taking of his loved ones.
But the time jump doesn't go according to plan, and part of London winds up millions of years in the past. Verity and her crewLord Embrey, Professor Reardon and others stranded with themmust pull together to survive in a world ruled by dinosaurs...and to somehow get home.
Read an Excerpt
1908. Somewhere over the English Channel
Verity collapsed her brass telescope and winced as the pyre of yet another British airship blazed on the rough waves. The odds of surviving this suicidal folly dwindled with each crimson flash. She shielded her face from the sting of lateral rain. All around her, metal warped and canvas groaned as the storm gathered fury. What she wouldn't give to be back in Angola right now, even in that godforsaken heat she was famous for griping about. Anywhere but here! Gusts battered the Empress Matilda's bullet-shaped, hydrogen-filled envelopes like a flurry of fists, swinging the deck and veering the airship away from the line of buoys below. Verity lurched against the taffrail, bit her tongue.
"Tangeni," she yelled for'ard through the pain.
Her stoic coxswain spun round. "Yes, Eembu?"
"Commence separation. Have Mbenga's team man the upper deck for you. Burton and Kwame can steer. Have Kibo meet me in the bell house." She clung to her sou'wester's chin strap with pruned fingers, and grinned bitterly. "It's time to divorce the Empress."
Tangeni grimaced at their private joke, baring his too-many white teeth, and then shook his head. "English women crazier than English men."
"Oh, you haven't seen the half of it yet."
He snatched up the megaphone and bellowed orders to the crew. His oversized silver-blue slicker made him look like a fat sea lion leaning over the brass railinga far cry from his hunting days in the wilds of Namibia.
A lull in the wind allowed her to dash safely to him across the poop deck. After placing her hands on his shoulders, they touched foreheadsperhaps for the last time. Her mission, they both knew, was now a halfpenny short of impossible. For years Tangeni had looked forward to seeing England for the first time. Only six miles shy, he would probably never be closer than he was right now.
The image of Captain Naismith hanging over the side amidships, burning to death in the steam jet from a ruptured boiler below as he reached for those poor drowning sailors, seized her heart. That was the moment she'd inherited this responsibility, this countdown to oblivion.
"Enda nawa, Tangeni," she said. Regret ached through her shivering frame.
As she hurried down the iron steps to the quarterdeck he called after her, "When rain stops, I buy us ice creams in Piccadilly."
The awful weight of finality squeezed the air from her lungs. Salutes from Reba and Philomena, the two statuesque Kenyan girls who maintained the balloons' canvas and lines, steeled her resolve, quickened her descent to B-deck. This crew was so far from home on a mission so alien to their lives in Africa, she at least owed it to them to give her very best, to reward their faith in English ingenuity. The admiralty's emergency telegram had snatched away their promised vacation and sped up their transfer to the London fleetrotten enough circumstances for her first command without the threat of imminent death.
BAC EMERGENCY ALERT STOP EMPRESS MATILDA PROCEED TO TRANS CHANNEL PIPELINE BUOYS SIXTY TO SEVENTY FIVE WITH UTMOST DISPATCH JOIN GANNET FLEET STOP OVER DOZEN ENEMY VESSELS SUNK OR SINKING BELIEVED TO CARRY FRAGILE FRZ THREE EXPLOSIVES EXTREME RISK TO PIPELINE STOP DEFUSE BOMBS AT ALL COSTS