The Menagerie #2

by Tui T. Sutherland

“Tell me about it,” Matthew muttered. He took the map from Logan and studied it. “Hey, this is from the Wild Wild Xanadu website.”

  “Is that what it’s called?” Logan asked. He’d found the map on a website advertising some kind of Wild West tourist attraction nearby—a whole reconstructed town from the outlaw days, like Deadwood, although Logan hadn’t found anything about it anywhere else. The site hadn’t been updated in a while, but it was the best overall map of Xanadu he’d seen.

  “It was Mr. Sterling’s big idea to make Xanadu famous, back before he was running for mayor,” Matthew said. “People call it Wild Wild Xanadu as a joke. It opened for like a week and was a huge failure.” He turned the map sideways. “So we’re looking for somewhere with a lot of dead plants that a qilin could eat.”

  Blue tilted his head curiously at the map. “Like the dump or something?”

  “No, qilins like clean spaces,” Matthew said. “Anything elegant.”

  “Maybe something that reminds her of her original home in China?” Logan asked. “And the plants don’t have to be rotting or anything. I figure it can mean plants that aren’t growing anymore—like flowers that have been picked.”

  “A florist!” Zoe said.

  “Or fruits and vegetables,” said Matthew, starting to pace.

  “A supermarket!” said Blue.

  “A vegetarian restaurant!” said Zoe. “Okay, really any restaurant.”

  “That’s it!” Matthew cried. Across the library, Miss Sameera stirred, and he lowered his voice in a hurry. “Veggie Monster Café. The best vegetarian Chinese restaurant in Wyoming.”

  “Possibly the only vegetarian Chinese restaurant in Wyoming,” Zoe said wryly. “Dad and I love that place.”

  “There’s a garden out back with several spots where a qilin could hide,” Matthew said. “And the whole place is decorated with Chinese art and Buddhas and looks kind of like her enclosure at Camp Underpaw. I can’t believe I didn’t think of that sooner.” He punched Logan’s shoulder lightly. “All right, fine. I’ll write you a reference for the camp application.”

  Logan tried not to let his grin cover his whole face. “Thanks,” he said.

  “I’ll go check it out now,” said Matthew. “But if I don’t find her, I’ll pick you up here after school.”

  “Sounds great,” Logan said. He was relieved that Matthew wasn’t mad at him—plus now hopefully he’d get to see a trained almost-Tracker in action.

  “This is weird,” Matthew said, leaning against the van in the restaurant parking lot. Light rain misted down over him and Logan and Blue. “Tracking is an outdoor thing. Like jungles and waterfalls and arctic landscapes and deserts. Not supermarkets and florists and Chinese food.”

  “Well, now that there are probably more supermarkets than jungles, the animals have to go somewhere, right?” Logan said.

  “But wouldn’t someone have seen her in the last two months?” Blue asked.

  “Qilins can choose who sees them, more or less,” Matthew said. “Like, they’re only supposed to appear to good-hearted people, but the problem is that qilins tend to think almost everyone is good-hearted. But I bet she’s been extra-cautious because of what happened at camp.” He sighed. “I hope I haven’t ruined her faith in people forever.”

  He strode over to peer through the windows of the Veggie Monster Café. None of the front lights were on, and the door was locked when Logan tried it.

  Logan held his hands up to the glass to get a better view. The walls inside were red and covered with Chinese scrolls; paper lanterns in shades of gold and orange hung from the ceiling. The wooden tables floating throughout the room didn’t leave much space for a qilin.

  “There’s a light on in the kitchen,” Blue said. “Maybe someone’s setting up in there.”

  Matthew, Blue, and Logan circled round to the back entrance, where the kitchen door was propped open, looking out on a spacious garden courtyard where tables would be set up for outdoor eating in the summer. The plants were starting to take over, and Matthew was right. There were plenty of places where a qilin might hide. Logan and Matthew and Blue poked a few of the bushes, but nothing happened.

  “Any chance we could use those chimes to lure the qilin out?” Logan asked.

  “It’s worth a shot,” Matthew said, pulling the jade wind chimes from his messenger bag. They tinkled softly from the movement, and Logan felt that shivery sensation again as Matthew swung them gently.

  “We’d be able to see her, right?” Blue asked.

  “Well, if she really wanted to slip past us, she could, but I’ve brought a pocketful of shredded kale, which is her favorite. Or it used to be.” Matthew looked glum.

  Logan felt a surge of triumph as he heard something in the kitchen approach, but it was quickly dashed as a woman’s voice rang out.

  “Bobby, is that you?” The door creaked open further and a slender, long-haired woman in an apron stepped out.

  Matthew quickly stuffed the chimes back into his bag.

  “Oh, sorry, I thought you were my husband. He was supposed to be back from the farmer’s market by now. Can I help you?”

  Logan and the others exchanged glances.

  “Did you say farmer’s market?” Matthew asked.

  Sounds like a perfect buffet for a qilin, Logan thought.

  “Yes, we get our produce from them whenever we can.” She smiled at them. “Fresh veggies always taste better, don’t you think?”

  “They sure do,” Blue said enthusiastically. “Could you give us directions to get there?”

  She laughed. “Sure, but you don’t have to go far. It’s just at the end of the street, in the church parking lot.” She pointed up the road.

  “Thanks very much,” Logan said. Matthew was already sprinting toward the spire they could see over the tops of the trees.

  The parking lot of the church was lined with aisles of open-air booths and busy with people. A bluegrass band of old, bearded men played cheerfully in one corner. Logan could smell hot cider and competing fruit pies as they made their way through the stalls.

  “Let’s spread out,” Matthew suggested. “Whistle if you spot anything odd.”

  “Like a deer with a backward horn and scales?” Blue said.

  “Or, you know, someone eating seaweed,” Logan teased.

  Blue perked up. “You think they sell seaweed?”

  “Focus, Blue.” Matthew pointed to the farthest aisle. “I’ll start over there and we can meet in the middle.”

  Logan and Blue headed in the other direction, but the first few booths sold mostly baked goods and jars of homemade preserves. They snagged some cheese samples from a woman who was knitting in a camping chair and turned to scan the aisle ahead of them.

  “Do you see any booths with lettuces or kale or anything?” Logan asked Blue.

  “Not yet.”

  Logan and Blue kept walking, pausing to peer so intently at a stall of beans and carrots that the middle-aged man in charge of it frowned at them and they had to sidle away.

  Finally, as they rounded the corner, Logan spotted a booth on the edge of the next aisle that overflowed with greens: crates and crates of giant lettuce heads, alfalfa, asparagus, and leeks. He elbowed Blue and nodded toward the chalkboard outside the booth, which proudly proclaimed: “The best organic kale in all of Wyoming.”

  Two women were chatting in front of some kind of vegetable Logan didn’t even know the name of. Logan and Blue circled the booth slowly. Logan kept his gaze fixed on the vegetables, thinking he might spot a clue even if the qilin was invisible.

  Sure enough, after a few minutes, he saw a bundle of kale on the edge of the pile suddenly tip over and fall to the ground. It rolled a few feet away, disappearing behind the farm’s truck.

  “Kale overboard,” Logan whispered to Blue, pointing. Blue nodded and headed for the back of the truck while Logan edged slowly past the hood, holding his breath and thinking pure, noncarnivorous thoughts.

  The kale lay on the
ground, jumping and shivering in a weird possessed-vegetable kind of way. Small bits of it were disappearing into thin air.

  Logan crouched and held out both hands, palms up. “Qilin?” he said softly. “Don’t worry. I’m a friend.”

  There was a pause, and then something that felt like velvet brushed across his fingers. A moment later, the air shimmered and a small, tawny head appeared, followed by the rest of the qilin, inches away, staring at Logan with deep brown eyes. It felt like Logan had just stepped into a ray of bright sunshine. The qilin’s gentle aura wrapped around him.

  “Matthew has been really worried about you,” Logan murmured.

  The qilin cocked her head and sent Logan a wave of confidence, as though he shouldn’t have doubted her.

  Blue poked his head out from behind the truck. “Are you—is it—?”

  “She’s right here,” Logan said. “It’s okay, Blue is a friend, too. You’re safe with us.”

  The qilin arched her neck to consider the newcomer, then made a quiet nickering sound and lowered her head back to the kale. Logan saw a faint shimmer in the air again, and this time he could see that it was around her horn.

  “Oh, wow,” Blue gasped.

  “She’s beautiful,” Logan said. The qilin’s yellow-brown hair gave way to luminous turquoise and cobalt scales along her back, and her legs tapered gracefully to the ground. He easily believed she could move lightly enough not to crush the grass beneath her. Logan reached forward and hesitantly patted the qilin’s neck.

  “I’ll text Matthew,” Blue said, pulling out his phone.

  Moments later, Matthew joined them. Logan could tell from his reaction that the qilin was already visible to him. Maybe she’d decided back at camp that Matthew counted as good-hearted and so she’d always be willing to let him see her.

  “Thank goodness you’re okay, Kiri.” Matthew’s voice rang with relief as he crouched beside her. The wind chimes he’d tied to his bag tinkled and Logan sensed a wave of comfort from the qilin in response.

  Matthew reached forward and gently stroked her head. The qilin nuzzled closer, and Logan got a powerful feeling of gratitude—images of fire and danger, and Matthew trying to save her, and his kind hands untying her from a burning fence, and fleeing for safety, and appreciation. He hoped Matthew could feel it that strongly, too. From the look on Matthew’s face, he thought probably.

  Matthew scooped the kale from the ground and held it for her with his other hand. “Let’s get you back to the Menagerie.”

  As they moved out from behind the truck, Logan glanced at the people nearby, but no one seemed to notice the unusual creature next to him. She stepped daintily through the market, stealing nibbles from the kale in Matthew’s hand as they walked.

  They were almost out of the fair when someone called out Matthew’s name. Logan glanced over his shoulder and saw Jasmin’s brother, Jonathan, jogging after them.

  Matthew let out an exasperated breath. “You guys go ahead. Get Kiri loaded in the van. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He broke off to intercept Jonathan.

  Blue slipped into Matthew’s place at the qilin’s side and they picked up their pace. Logan’s heart didn’t slow down until they’d managed to lift the qilin into the back of the van.

  “Nice,” said Blue. “We kind of rock.”

  “Yeah.” Logan grinned. Maybe he had inherited his mom’s talent after all. Maybe if they found Mom, he wouldn’t even have to go to Tracker camp. She could train him herself and they could go on missions together. He’d get to see all sorts of amazing magical creatures and bring them back to the Menagerie.

  If the Kahns still had a Menagerie after tomorrow.

  He really hoped the qilin could clear Scratch.

  NINETEEN

  “This is the worst idea in the history of ideas,” Marco pointed out as Zoe led them into the Menagerie. His younger brother strutted along behind him, sniffing the air and goggling at the unicorns drinking down by the lake. The rain had stopped, but the sky was still gray and overcast.

  “Why?” Zoe asked. “Because he might be dangerous in bear form?” She spotted Captain Fuzzbutt grazing near the griffin enclosure and waved. He lifted his trunk and waved back.

  “Where are the dragons?” Carlos demanded. He’d agreed to help only after being bribed with dragons. Zoe wasn’t sure that made him much of an improvement on Keiko.

  “Because he’ll be even more annoying in brother form,” Marco said. “He’s already a little too pleased with himself for being the biggest predator in the family. Now he’s going to think he can be useful and that cool older kids will want to hang out with him.”

  “That’s not a problem,” Zoe said. “I’m not cool at all.”

  Two of the hellhounds came bounding across the grass toward them. Marco tensed and Carlos bared his teeth, which wasn’t terribly impressive when he wasn’t a bear.

  Zoe crouched and scratched the hellhounds behind their ears. Sheldon immediately flopped over for a belly rub. Jaws sat down beside him, watching Marco and Carlos with his glowing red eyes. Their breath smelled like sulfur and granola bars. Zoe’s hands were instantly covered in thick black fur.

  “Wow,” Carlos murmured, apparently distracted from dragons.

  “Hmm,” Marco said, edging away from the giant dogs. “You seem pretty cool to me.”

  Zoe shrugged. “Well, maybe if the kids at school could see me gathering ink from a kraken they’d be a little more impressed.” She rumpled Sheldon’s neck fur and stood up again. “That’s the Aviary over there.” As she started walking again, she heard the thump-thump of mammoth feet galloping up to join them. Captain Fuzzbutt gave Marco a friendly nudge as he came up beside them, and the wererooster boy jumped a mile.

  The brothers and the mammoth followed her to the spot by the lake where Logan had seen the feather. Zoe was surprised to find it still there—the agents must have missed it when they were collecting evidence. It was soggy from the rain and lay plastered to the grass.

  “What do you think?” Zoe asked Marco. “Is this actually Pelly’s feather?”

  “Without having met the lady, I can’t be sure,” Marco said, studying it without touching it. “But it’s certainly from a goose about the right age.”

  “Good enough,” Zoe said. “Can you follow her scent?” She turned to Carlos and found him already half-undressed. “Ack!” she yelped, covering her eyes.

  “Carlos doesn’t care who sees him naked,” Marco assured her.

  “Well, I do!” she said. She kept her hands over her eyes until Marco said, “All clear,” in an amused voice.

  Carlos’s clothes were piled in a heap; Zoe gathered them up so they wouldn’t get wet. The black bear cub snuffled around the feather, making thoughtful grunting noises. The mammoth hovered curiously behind him, poking his trunk everywhere the cub’s nose had just been, imitating his grunts and snuffles. Carlos swiped at the Captain’s trunk with one paw, and the mammoth jumped back, then hustled forward again, delighted with this wonderful new game.

  With a small growl, the bear turned his back on the mammoth and began trotting purposefully toward the outer wall of the Menagerie. Captain Fuzzbutt followed close on his heels—almost close enough to step on him—which earned him a few grumpy looks and a snap of Carlos’s jaws that the mammoth clearly found very entertaining.

  Beyond the wall Zoe could see the tops of the pine trees that surrounded the Kahns’ territory. The cub padded across the paved trail and paced in the grass for a while. Finally he stood up on his hind legs and batted at the stone with his paws. Thrilled, the mammoth thumped the same part of the wall with his trunk and nearly knocked the cub sideways by accident.

  “The goose scent stops here, at least on this side,” Marco said. He tilted his head back to look at the top of the wall. One long branch reached from outside into the Menagerie right above them. “If someone hung a pulley from that branch, they could probably get a tranquilized goose over the wall, even without help.”

>   Zoe looked around, wondering if Mooncrusher could bring them a ladder, and her eyes met the Captain’s. He gave her a wide mammoth smile and flapped his trunk at his back, which was only a few feet below the top of the wall.

  “Give me a boost,” Zoe said to Marco, setting Carlos’s clothes on the ground. He cupped his hands and helped her climb onto the Captain’s back. She grabbed handfuls of the mammoth’s long brown fur to pull herself up, hoping it wouldn’t hurt him. At last she reached the top of his broad, shaggy back and cautiously stood up with her arms out for balance. Captain Fuzzbutt shuffled a little closer to the wall and she reached up to grab the top of it.

  It took some maneuvering and kicking and a lot more arm strength than Zoe would have given herself credit for, but finally she made it to the top of the wall, and from there it was easy to climb onto the tree branch.

  There was a spot on the branch above the Menagerie side where the bark was worn down, as if something had been attached to it. Zoe leaned to look down on the far side and thought she saw two divots in the muddy earth, where a ladder might have rested against the wall.

  “Meet me outside,” she called to Marco and Carlos. “Thanks, Captain! See you later!”

  The mammoth saluted with his trunk and gave the cub a friendly pat on the back that sent the bear rolling down the hill toward the Aviary. With an oops expression, Captain Fuzzbutt trotted off toward Mooncrusher’s yurt.

  Zoe clambered along the branch and slid down the tree, wincing as splinters dug into her hands. Carlos and Marco caught up to her soon after, and the bear cub started vigorously nosing around in the pine needles.

  He made a whuffling noise and trotted off, nose to the ground, leading them through the trees until they reached the road. Tire treads in the dirt showed that something bigger than a car had been parked here recently.

  The bear sniffed the air, sat down, and started turning back into a boy.

  Zoe grabbed his clothes from Marco and flung them at the cub, then covered her eyes.

  “Why is he turning back?” she asked Marco. “We haven’t found Pelly yet.”

  “The scent trail ends here,” Carlos answered for himself. “I can’t smell goose anymore—only truck. And this truck soon gets mixed up in all the other car smells on the road so I can’t follow it. Sorry.” She heard him scrambling into his clothes.