“Or about the griffins?” Zoe said worriedly. “Blue, what if it’s an exterminator? What if SNAPA found out about the escape somehow?”
Logan pulled the griffin cub closer. “Exterminator?” he echoed. Flurp poked her beak inside his jacket, trembling.
“They’re not real,” Blue said. “It’s an urban legend Matthew brought back from Tracker camp.”
“It could be true,” Zoe insisted. “Matthew said some Trackers are chosen for a different path—hunting down escaped creatures to kill them instead of capture them. Like when they’re too dangerous, or when SNAPA thinks they’re not worth saving.”
“They wouldn’t do that to the cubs,” Blue said. “Even if exterminators do exist, which I don’t think they do.”
Zoe bit her nails, staring at the front door. Logan felt like the dark shadows were getting thicker and heavier around them. For the first time, he realized there was more to the Menagerie than hanging out with cool animals.
“How do we get out?” Logan asked.
“We run,” Zoe said. “Especially you, because you have, uh, Flurp. If that guy sees us, Blue and I will distract him so you can get away.” She pulled a black cloth out of her backpack; when she unrolled it, it turned out to be a kind of giant sling. Zoe reached to fit it over Logan’s shoulders.
“Wait,” Logan said, catching her wrist. “You should take Flurp. You have to be the one who gets away. If they catch me, I’m just a random guy who snuck into the library. But once they know who you are, they might find out about your family and the Menagerie.”
Blue nodded in agreement.
“Okay.” Zoe didn’t argue. She took Flurp gently out of Logan’s arms, and the boys lifted and wound the sling around her shoulders until the griffin cub was well hidden.
Logan peeked out from under the stairs. A hallway led from the circulation desk to the café and, in the distance, the back door. He spotted the flashlight beam sweep past the rear windows.
“Okay, let’s go,” Zoe whispered. They hurried along the wall to the front door. But when Logan pushed down on the handle, the door didn’t budge.
“No way,” Blue said. He tried the handle, too.
Zoe glanced anxiously at the back door, where the flashlight was now scanning the vending machine. “Break a window?” she suggested halfheartedly.
Logan thought he’d rather spend the night in the library than do that. He reached into his pocket. The keys from the children’s room were still there; he’d forgotten to put them back.
“Try this,” he said, handing them to Blue.
“Oh,” Zoe said, sounding a little exasperated. “Of course you have keys to the library. You didn’t think that was worth mentioning before?”
“I just found them, I promise,” Logan said as the key clicked in the lock. Blue pushed open the door, and they ran out and down the front steps. Logan grabbed the keys from Blue and slipped them into the book drop box at the edge of the sidewalk.
Footsteps crunched on dry leaves around the corner of the library. Whoever it was must have heard the front door and was coming fast.
Someone was about to catch them with the griffin cub.
FIFTEEN
Logan, Zoe, and Blue took off down the street.
Zoe clutched the griffin cub to her chest. She didn’t dare look back. She’d had almost this exact nightmare too many times before. Whenever she looked back, that was when they always got her—and all the Menagerie animals—and everything was ruined forever.
But this time it was real.
She threw herself on her bike, leaving her helmet hanging from the handlebars, and flew out of the alley, nearly knocking over Blue and Logan. Flurp wriggled in protest, but Zoe wasn’t going to stop until she was safely home.
She took a back route, just in case the person chasing them had a car, although she hadn’t heard one. She zipped through a narrow alley and detoured through a playground and around the elementary school. Flurp’s claws dug through her shirt in little stabs of pain, but Zoe just gritted her teeth and kept going.
Finally she was pedaling up the hill to her own house. Now she let herself look back. The tall orange lights lit an empty street behind her.
The trees along her driveway felt like warm arms welcoming her in. The garage door was open, and as she rolled her bike inside, Matthew stood up from one of the golf carts, wiping his hands on a rag.
“Hey,” he said. “I am so telling that you’re not wearing your helmet.” He squinted more closely. “Yikes. You look terrible.”
“Always the best way to say hi,” Zoe said. She dropped her bike and loosened the sling so Flurp could poke her head out. “But look who we found in the library!”
“Awesome!” Matthew bounded over and helped disentangle Flurp. His strong hands ran gently over her fur and wings, and not for the first time, Zoe wondered how he had ever made a griffin angry enough to claw his arm up. Matthew was great with the animals, a born Tracker, and the scars he’d brought back from training camp this past summer made no sense.
“Great work,” Matthew said, tousling Zoe’s hair. “You’ll be running this place soon.”
Zoe just barely managed not to shudder. She loved most of the animals, but she wasn’t at all sure she wanted to be the next Kahn caretaker. If the Menagerie stressed her out this much now, how much worse would it be if she were in charge of everything? And if she did have to inherit it—if Ruby followed her dream of being an actress and Matthew became a Tracker—then she’d really never get to have a normal life, not for one minute.
It wasn’t fair, being the youngest.
“She’s hungry,” Zoe pointed out as Flurp nipped at Matthew’s zipper. “She hasn’t eaten all day, so make sure she gets something.”
“I’ll go reunite her with her delighted parents,” Matthew said. “Well, her delighted parent and her semicomatose parent anyway.” He carried Flurp out the back door of the garage just as Logan and Blue came riding up the driveway on their bikes.
“Were you followed?” Zoe asked. She peered out at the dark road behind them, beyond the trees. No headlights; no dark figure that she could see. But uneasiness clung to her thoughts like cobwebs.
“Doubt it,” Blue said. “We were fast.” He held out his hand, and, looking surprised, Logan high-fived him.
“Let’s get inside and close up,” Zoe said, reaching for the garage door button.
Out on the road there was a muffled engine rumble-cough, and a pair of headlights came swinging around the corner into the driveway.
Logan looked like he was about to grab a weapon. Zoe took his elbow and pulled him to the side wall. “It’s okay,” she said. “That’s our van.”
The Kahns’ battered gray-blue van rolled into the garage, and she hit the button to close up behind it. The sound of the door thunking into the concrete made her feel a lot better. Now at least there was something between her and all the people who might destroy the Menagerie.
Her mother turned off the engine, but the van kept shaking, and now they could hear the muffled squawking coming from inside.
Logan put his hands over his ears. “Oh, man, she is mad,” he said. He lowered his hands again and looked at them ruefully. “Of course that wasn’t going to work.”
So there’s one upside to not being able to hear the griffin cubs, Zoe thought, but it didn’t cheer her up.
Her dad climbed out of the passenger side, smiling. “Got one!” he said.
“So did we,” Zoe said. She loved the look on her dad’s face—proud but not surprised, as if he’d had no doubt she would come back with a griffin cub. “Matthew took her inside. Wait—wasn’t Matthew supposed to go to the bank with you?”
“We couldn’t find him,” her dad said. “And we were in kind of a hurry. It’s the big one, by the way.” He lifted the smallest dragon harness off the wall and began tightening the straps to make it as small as possible.
“Do we really have to harness her?” Zoe asked.
“AWK AW
K AWKAWKAWKAWKAWK!” bellowed the unseen griffin cub. From the banging inside, Zoe could tell she was crashing her cage into the sides of the van.
“I think that’s a yes,” said Blue.
“I don’t understand,” Zoe’s mom said, hopping out on the other side of the van. “Why isn’t she happy to be home? We’re all so nice to her here.” Mom’s hair was a mess, and there was a rip in her flowing daisy-patterned shirt, as if she’d tried to hug the cub and it had strongly objected.
“Well, escaping was her idea,” Logan said in a strained voice. He had his hands to his head like he was trying to hold his skull together. “She’s hollering ‘MY TREASURE! MY BEAUTIFUL TREASURE!’ over and over again. Plus some creative things about what she’s going to do when she—”
A sudden silence made him stop midsentence.
They all stared at the van.
“That’s good, right?” Zoe’s mom said hopefully. “That means she’s calmed—”
Scrabble. Scritch scratch scrabble scrabble. The sound of claws on metal . . . on the sides of the van itself. Which meant the griffin was not inside the cage anymore.
Scratch scratch scratch scratch SCRAAAATCH.
“Uh-oh,” said Zoe’s dad.
The black griffin cub exploded out of the van with such force that one of the back doors fell off, crashing loudly to the floor. She was the largest of the cubs, already the size of a small pony. In the confined garage, it was like a rocket set loose in a Looney Tunes cartoon, zooming wildly around the room.
Zoe threw herself to the floor, covering her head. Her parents and Blue did the same thing as the griffin shot from wall to wall with shrieks of anger. She slammed into the hooks of dragon harnesses and frantically clawed them all to the ground. One of her wings whacked into Logan and knocked him over as well. With another leap she landed on the tool cabinet, sending drawers of nuts and bolts and screws clattering into sharp metal puddles.
“AWK AWK AWKAWKAWK!” she roared, bounding onto the top of the van. She landed with a thud and a screech of claws on metal. Her wings brushed the ceiling, nearly blotting out the light from the single bulb.
Zoe was sure the griffin didn’t mean to hurt any of them, but in her rage and in such a small space, she easily might by accident. They needed Matthew and his calming hands. Or a tranq gun . . . She raised her head a little to look at the gun chest on the far side of the room. Maybe if she could get to it. . . .
She began a slow army crawl, wriggling along the wall.
“AWKAWKAWKOOOOOAR!” the griffin cub howled. Zoe froze and glanced up. Glittering black eyes were fixed on her. The griffin spread her wings and hooked her claws over the edge of the van, ready to pounce.
“Clink!” yelled Logan. “Stop!”
SIXTEEN
The griffin swiveled her head around in surprise and stared at Logan.
“Clink,” he said again. “That’s your name, right?”
Lucky guess? the griffin wondered.
“No, I can hear you,” Logan said, climbing to his feet. “Loud and clear.” Clink’s voice in his head vibrated like swords clashing.
Hear me? Clink flapped her wings. Then GIVE ME! WANT! Treasure! Treasure! TREASURE! She opened her beak and hissed at the Kahns. Her claws flexed menacingly, and they looked a lot more like full-grown lion paws than either Squorp’s or Flurp’s.
Logan did not want to see those claws sinking into Zoe’s back or that beak stabbing at Blue’s eyes. He could only think of one thing to do. “Here,” he said, fighting past the lump rising in his throat. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his mom’s bracelet. “I have some really important treasure for you to guard. Really, really important. You have to be very careful with it and . . . and make sure it never gets lost and . . .” He stopped, swallowing. Was he really giving Mom’s bracelet away? To a bossy, aggressive four-month-old griffin cub?
Clink ducked her head to peer at the bracelet. The gold chain glinted in the light, and the twelve charms spun and winked. The one that looked like a bird with big eyes was staring at Logan accusingly. Your mom gave this to you when she traveled. She told you to take care of it for her while she was gone. What if she comes looking for it?
She won’t. She’s not coming back, Logan thought, remembering the postcard.
The griffin cub jumped down to the floor, landing on quiet cat feet. She sat on her haunches and neatly lifted the bracelet out of Logan’s hand with one claw. The elephant charm glowed against her dark fur as she turned the bracelet cautiously from side to side.
Beautiful treasure, Clink breathed softly in Logan’s mind. So delicate. Very important to someone. Full of meaning. Her black eyes were fierce and warm at the same time as she looked into Logan’s face. I will guard it with all the courage of my ancestors.
Suddenly Logan didn’t feel guilty anymore. He knew she meant it. She would be gentle and careful with it. Mom’s bracelet would be safer with Clink than anywhere in the world.
“May I see that?” Mr. Kahn asked Clink. She snapped her beak and glared at him, covering the bracelet between her front paws.
“It’s okay,” Logan told her. “He’s allowed.”
May look but may not touch, insisted the griffin.
“She says you can look, but don’t touch it,” Logan explained. Mr. Kahn nodded, and the griffin proudly displayed the gold charm bracelet.
“Where did you get this?” Mr. Kahn asked Logan. From most adults the question would have sounded accusing, but he only seemed curious.
Logan wanted the Kahns to know it was okay for Clink to have it, but without making Clink think the bracelet wasn’t important or worth guarding. “It was my mom’s. She’s not around anymore, so I need someone brave to guard it for me. Someone who knows it’s special.”
I do! Clink insisted, drawing herself up like a Greek statue. Her chest feathers ruffled proudly.
Mr. Kahn gave Clink a small, respectful bow. “We know you will take good care of it until Logan’s mother returns, Clink.”
Logan looked down at his sneakers, avoiding everyone’s gaze. Like that’s ever going to happen.
“Will you stay for dinner, Logan?” Mr. Kahn asked, resting one hand on Logan’s shoulder. “It’s just spaghetti, but I think you’ve more than earned it.”
“Just spaghetti!” Mrs. Kahn protested. “I’ll have you know I also defrosted turkey meatballs for you ungrateful lot.”
Clink perked up, swiveling her head toward Zoe’s mom.
“Yes, you can have a meatball,” Mrs. Kahn said, smiling, “as long as you go back to your den without any more fussing.”
No more fussing, Clink crooned. Clink is a treasure guardian now. She delicately draped the bracelet over a couple of large wing feathers and paced out of the garage, keeping one eye on the bracelet at all times.
“I’ll go make sure that happens,” Mrs. Kahn said. “Oh, and I’ll let the dragons know they can add Logan to the welcome list so we won’t get any intruder alarms during dinner.” She hurried off.
“I just need to call my dad, but it should be fine,” Logan said to Mr. Kahn. He felt lucky they weren’t kicking him out yet. Even with the scary person at the library and losing his mom’s bracelet, this was still the best day he’d had in Xanadu. The best day he’d had since Mom left, actually.
A side door in the garage led right into Zoe’s kitchen. It was huge and warm, with copper pots hanging from the ceiling, a mountain of mysterious gadgets piled on the drying rack by the sink, and two stoves crowded with covered saucepans. An herb garden was rioting in the bay window, effectively blocking the view of the driveway with winding green leaves and tiny red tomatoes. The room smelled like garlic bread and spaghetti sauce.
Logan nearly tripped over one of the hellhounds, who was lying sprawled across the heated, silvery gray stone floor. The large dog thumped his tail once and didn’t even look up. Zoe frowned at him.
“Sheldon,” she said, “can’t you even pretend to be a scary guard dog?”
Sheldon panted cheerfully at her.
“You can call your dad in there,” Blue said to Logan, pointing to an archway to the left. Beside it was a pass-through window to the next room, where Blue began stacking plates and mismatched silverware as Zoe handed them to him.
Logan went through the archway and found himself in a wide, open room. The quarter of it closest to the kitchen was a dining area filled with an enormous wooden table that looked like it had been a tree for a very long time. The surface was hacked and pitted like real wood, not smoothed over like most tables.
The rest of the space was a living room two steps down from the dining room. It stretched all the way to the far wall of the house, taking up most of the ground floor. It was covered in thick carpets, woven wall hangings of mythical creatures, comfortable-looking couches, enormous, floppy floor pillows, and what appeared to be hundreds of books—shoved into bookcases or sprawled across low tables or tucked into the corners of overstuffed armchairs.
There was no TV, but there were two things against the tall, sliding glass doors that reminded Logan of the mounted binoculars on the Skydeck at the top of the Sears Tower. The windows all looked out on the dark Menagerie, down the rolling grass hills to the lake glittering in the moonlight.
Logan sat in one of the large wooden chairs around the table, suddenly feeling exhausted. He pulled out his phone and dialed his dad’s cell.
As always when Logan called, Dad answered on the first ring.
“Hey, Logan,” he said. “Sorry I’m not home yet.”
“That’s okay,” Logan said. “Neither am I. One of my—” He stopped. It felt weird to say “friends.” Blue and Zoe weren’t exactly his friends yet, were they? He wondered what they would say about that. “This guy at school invited me for dinner,” he said instead. “Is that okay?”
“Of course,” said his dad, sounding relieved. “That’s great, Logan. No problem at all. What’s his name?”
“Blue,” Logan answered. That seemed easier than trying to explain Zoe and her family. Besides, if his dad thought he was hanging out with a girl, he’d never hear the end of it.
The Menagerie Page 8
