sue control

"But, Harry. To get there you'll have to call up the dead yourself."
I stopped and looked over my shoulder at him.
Comprehension dawned in his eyes. "And you need a drummer."
"Yeah."
He swallowed. "Could... could you get in trouble with your people for doing this?"
"It's possible," I said. "But there's a technicality I can exploit."
"What do you mean?"
"The Laws of Magic specifically refer to the abuse of magic when used against our fellow human beings. Technically it only counts if you call up human corpses."
"But you told me that everyone only calls humans."
"Right. So while the Laws of Magic only address necromancy as used on human corpses, there usually isn't any need for a distinction. Nutty necromancers only call up humans. Sane wizards don't touch necromancy at all. I don't think anyone has tried something like this."
We reached the main level of the museum.
"It's going to be dangerous," I told him. "I think we can do it, but I can't make you any promises. I don't know if I can protect you."
Butters walked beside me for several steps, his expression serious. "You can't try it without someone's help. And if you don't stop it, the spell will kill thousands of people."
"Yes," I said. "But I can't order you to help me. I can only ask."
He licked his lips. "I can keep a beat," he said.
I nodded and reached my destination. I slipped my improvised yoke off my shoulders and dropped both saddles to the floor. My breathing was a little harsh from the effort, even though I barely noticed the pain and strain. "You'll need a drum."
Butters nodded. "There were some tom-toms upstairs. I'll go get one."
I shook my head. "Too high-pitched. Your polka suit is still in the Beetle's trunk, right?"
"Yes."
I nodded. Then I looked up. And up. And up. Another flash of lightning illuminated the pale, towering terror of Sue, the most complete Tyrannosaurus skeleton mankind has ever discovered.
“Okay, Butters." I told him. "Go get it."

Dead Beat Chapter 38, Page 348-349


"What a mess," Butters said. He glanced behind us, at the broken brick and debris and wreckage of the museum's front doors. "Is she all right?"
"One way to find out," I growled. "Hah, mule!"
I laid my left hand on the rough, pebbled skin of my steed and willed it forward. The saddle lurched, and I clutched hard with my other hand to stay on.
The first few steps were the worst. The saddle sat at a sharp incline not too unlike that on a rearing horse. But as my mount gathered speed, the length of her body tilted forward, until her spine was almost parallel with the ground.
I didn't know this before, but as it turns out, Tyrannosaurs can really haul ass.
She might have been as long as a city bus, but Sue, despite her weight, moved with power and grace. As I'd called forth energy-charged ectoplasm to clothe the ancient bones, they had become covered in sheets of muscle and a hide of heavy, surprisingly supple quasi-flesh. She was dark grey, and there was a ripple pattern of black along her head, back, and flanks, almost like that of a jaguar. And once I had shaped the vessel, I had reached out and found the ancient spirit of the predator that had animated it in life.
Animals might not have the potential power of human remains. But the older the remains, the more magic can be drawn to fill them-and Sue was sixty-five million years old.
She had power. She had power in spades.
I had rigged the saddles to straddle her spine, just at the bend where neck joined body. I'd had to improvise to get them around her, using the long extension cords to tie them into place, and it had been ticklish as hell to get Butters on board without him losing the beat and destroying my control of the dinozombie. But Butters had pulled through.

Dead Beat Chapter 39, Page 350


"My baby can move," I told him. Sue broke into her run, and the ride smoothed out.
Ramirez let out a whoop of pure enjoyment. "Now this is cool," he said. "I can't even imagine how complicated this must have been."
"Wasn't complicated," I told him.
"Oh. So summoning up dinosaurs is actually very easy, is it?"
I snorted. "Any other night, any other place, I don't think I could have done it. But it wasn't complicated, either. Lifting up an engine block isn't complicated. It's just a lot of work."
Ramirez was silent for a moment. "I'm impressed," he said.

Dead Beat Chapter 41, Page 373-374