The Menagerie (12 page)

Logan stared at her. She didn't really mean
terminate
, did she?

Melissa looked up at the silence with a surprised expression.

“So it is true! Dad!” Zoe dropped her knife and fork on the plate with a clatter. “How could you not tell me?”

“We thought you were worried enough,” her mom said, giving Melissa a withering look.

“Well, you should be
more
worried!” Zoe said. “I didn't know any of the animals might
die
! We should be out looking for them right now!” She sounded like she was about to cry.

Logan's throat felt like it was closing up. The griffin cubs—Squorp and Flurp and Clink—how could anyone do anything to harm them? He grabbed his iced tea and lifted it to his mouth.

Suddenly the glass was knocked out of his hand. Purplish-brown tea spilled across his pants and splashed on the mammoth below him. Fuzzbutt looked up, startled, as Logan leaped to his feet with a yell.

“Blue, what on earth was that?” Melissa said, shocked.

Logan blinked down at the blond boy who was pointing at Zoe accusingly.

“I know what you were about to do,” Blue said. “And it's not okay with me.” He met Logan's eyes. “Sorry, Logan. Zoe was just about to wipe your memory.”

NINETEEN

“Z
oe!” her mom gasped.

“Blue!” Melissa set down her fork and frowned at him. “We never,
never
talk about that in front of outsiders.”

Logan's head was spinning. He felt confused and betrayed and also very wet. “You're not serious,” he said to Blue. “You can't really do that, can you? Wipe my memory—like in
Men in Black
?”

“A lot like that,” Blue said. “But with kraken ink instead of alien technology.”

“Blue!”
Melissa stood up. “That is enough! Go to your room
right now
.”

“I will, but I'm taking Logan with me,” Blue said. “Come on, I'll lend you some dry pants.” He stood up, giving Zoe a challenging look. She buried her face in her hands.

“It's all right, Melissa,” Mr. Kahn said. “Zoe. This is serious.”

Logan didn't know what to say as he followed Blue through the kitchen to the wide staircase in the front hall. His sneakers squished and his pants stuck to his legs. “This place seems determined to ruin my clothes,” he tried to joke.

“My advice,” Blue said, “is, don't drink anything but water while you're here. If someone puts kraken ink in it, it'll turn purple.” He paused thoughtfully, then added, “So, you know, don't drink any purple water.” He was carrying the bowl of cucumbers he and Melissa had picked out of their salads.

“Why would Zoe do that to me?” Logan said. He stopped at the top of the stairs, clenching and unclenching his fists. Anger was starting to build in his chest. He hadn't done anything to betray their trust. He'd helped as much as he possibly could. He'd brought Squorp back instead of keeping him. He'd given Clink his mother's bracelet, for crying out loud.

“It's what we always do,” Blue said. “It's Menagerie policy. But you're different, I think.” He shook his hair out of his eyes and checked one of the small video screens that hung at eye level all the way along the hall, where family photos might be in any other house. The only thing Logan could see on the screen was a large, dark blob with small bubbles blipping out of it; underneath the screen was a printed label that said
KRAKEN MONITORING SYSTEM
. Blue nodded in satisfaction, opened the door next to the screen, and beckoned Logan after him.

Blue's room was both totally normal and weirdly Blue at the same time. The walls were painted a muted aqua color, and the carpet was shaggy and dark green like seaweed. Brightly colored glass fish hung from the ceiling like model airplanes. On the wall above the bed was a poster of Michael Phelps swimming, with water flying out around him. The opposite wall held a bulletin board crammed with deep-sea photographs of underwater life, which Logan realized Blue had probably taken himself. A few more photos were hung around the walls in plain black frames with labels on them such as
MADAGASCAR
and
GREAT BARRIER REEF
.

Bubbles and small white sea horses drifted across the computer monitor on the desk.
The Crucible
was stacked on top of a couple of books about Thomas Jefferson. Next to the computer was a framed photograph of Melissa with a tall, green-haired, bearded man on a beach somewhere. It took Logan a moment to recognize her, because Melissa's hair was down and she was laughing. The green-haired man was helping a blond toddler walk with his feet in the sand.

Blue set down the cucumbers next to a giant fish tank on a low bookshelf in the corner. The tank was half as tall as Logan and dark inside. Blue reached for a light switch hooked up to it, but before he could turn it on, Logan saw a small green hand with webbed fingers press up against the glass. It scrabbled at the side nearest the cucumbers.

“Oh,” Blue said, pausing to look at Logan. “Uh, don't be freaked out. It's just a kappa. Okay?”

“A what?”

The light flicked on, illuminating the water in the tank and the tall, waving seaweed plants inside. Peering out through the dark fronds was a face. Logan jumped back in surprise, and the face grinned wolfishly.

The creature in the tank was the size of a skinny one-year-old and covered in green scales. Its body was blobby, like a frog's, but with a turtle shell on its back, and its monkey face had a beak—a beak with sharp little teeth. There was a tiny crater on the top of its skull. It poked at the glass again, ogling the cucumbers.

“Don't get too close,” Blue said. “Kappas eat kids, but they prefer cucumbers if they can get them.”

“That—that would
eat
me?” Logan said, fascinated. “But it's so small.”

“Yeah, it's stronger than it looks,” Blue said. “If it ever asks you to wrestle, seriously, just say no.” He slipped two slices of cucumber through a slot at the top of the tank. The kappa reached its webbed fingers up and snatched a cucumber out of the water, making it disappear in two bites.

“Of course,” Blue went on, “you won't understand it if it does talk to you. It only speaks Japanese. Sometimes Keiko talks to it, but I'm pretty sure she's just riling it up.” He dropped a few more cucumber slices in and crossed over to his closet. The kappa stared at Logan with mischievous dark eyes.

“You said it's Menagerie policy to wipe people's memories,” Logan said. “You mean everyone? You do this all the time?”

“Well, we don't get strangers in here very much,” Blue said. “So not
all
the time, but whenever it happens, yeah.” He pulled a pair of jeans off a shelf in the closet and threw them at Logan. “Try those.”

“And you don't warn them?” Logan asked, kicking off his shoes. “You just take their memories, like that?” It gave him the creeps to think of anyone messing with his head. Would he still have remembered his dad—or anything about his mom?

Blue went back to throwing cucumbers into the kappa's tank. “It's not like we give them total amnesia,” he said. “The kraken ink targets supernatural encounters. The more you've had, the more you need. You've only been around a day, so a couple of drops would have you waking up tomorrow with this fuzzy feeling, like you'd slept through a whole afternoon. You might remember going to the library, but not why, and definitely not the griffin cubs or the Menagerie.”

“What about my mom's bracelet?” Logan burst out. “Would Zoe have given it back? Or would she have left me thinking I lost it somewhere?”

Blue shoved his blond hair off his forehead and gave Logan a rueful look. “I don't know. Listen, we don't like the policy. But it's to keep the Menagerie safe.”

“You don't have to keep it safe from
me
,” Logan protested. “I want to help. I would never tell anyone.”

“I believe you.” Both boys jumped, and Logan spun around to find Zoe standing in the doorway, holding her elbows and looking downcast. He was glad he'd gotten the jeans on before she appeared. Assuming she hadn't been standing there for a while. He frowned at her.

“I mean, I
want
to believe you,” Zoe said. “But the Menagerie is in so much trouble right now. I just . . . Don't you get it?”

“Not cool,” Logan said, pointing at her. He sat down on Blue's bed.

But the problem was, he
did
understand. He already felt like he'd do almost anything to protect the griffins and this place. In his mind, though, that included Zoe and Blue. He'd thought they were starting to be a team. Or friends, or something.

But friends didn't wipe other friends' memories.

“I'm really sorry,” Zoe said. She rubbed her forehead. “Dad is pretty angry. He says we need you. I know he's right, it's just—my sister got me all scared. The last time we let a stranger come in and out of the Menagerie . . . well, we thought we could trust him, too, and it turned out we really couldn't, and lots of things went wrong from there.”

“How about this,” Blue said. “What if Logan stays over tonight? Then he can help us hunt for griffins tomorrow, and we can all keep an eye on him to make sure he doesn't go home and sell our story to the dragon-conspiracy blogs.” He tossed a cucumber slice at Logan. “You up for that? Saturday is Zoe's day to make breakfast.”

Logan caught the cucumber and lobbed it at Zoe. She ducked, and it hit the hallway wall with a splat. “How do I know you won't wipe my brain while I'm sleeping?” Logan asked.

“Because that's impossible,” Zoe said huffily.

“Hmm,” Logan said. “Not a reassuring answer.”

“And you've got my word,” Blue said. He crossed the room and held out his hand to Logan. “Merman's honor. I won't let anyone wipe your memory unless you become a true danger to this place.”

Logan looked over at Zoe. She nodded, kicking the carpet with her sneakers.

“All right,” Logan said, shaking Blue's hand. He knew his dad would let him stay over. And despite the wrenched, horrible feeling in his stomach about what Zoe had tried to do to him, he still wanted to be here. He wanted to meet dragons. He wanted to hang out with Blue.

But more important than anything else, he had to help save Squorp and the other griffins.

TWENTY

“E
WW!” A shriek woke Logan early the next morning. He squinted at the shades on Blue's window. It was still dark outside.

“Who left a CUCUMBER in the hallway?” Keiko's voice roared. “Where anyone could STEP ON IT. GROOOOOOSS!”

“Uh-oh,” Blue whispered over the side of the bed. “Pretend you're still asleep.”

Logan pulled the sleeping bag over his head as Blue's bedroom door slammed open.

“I know this is yours, fish boy,” Keiko snapped, flinging the cucumber slice at Blue's head. Logan hadn't actually seen her the night before, but he knew she knew he was here. She didn't seem remotely interested in his existence.

“Sorry,” Blue mumbled sleepily.

Keiko growled and slammed the door behind her.

“Maybe we should get up anyway,” Logan suggested. “We could do something else on the SNAPA list, or start looking for griffins.” Blue's alarm clock said 6:42 a.m., which was a horrible hour to be awake. But Logan hadn't slept well, and he felt restless.

“Mmmmph,” Blue answered, burying his head under the pillow.

Logan slid out of the sleeping bag, put on the jeans and sweatshirt he'd borrowed from Blue, and crept into the hallway. Keiko had vanished, but the sound of the shower running came from under the bathroom door. No one else was around. All the other rooms were dark.

They'd all been up late working on SNAPA's list. Logan hadn't even seen Matthew or Mrs. Kahn come back before he and Blue went to sleep. Zoe had been sent off to bathe, brush, and feed something called a mapinguari, which she seemed to think she deserved. Logan had spent the evening helping Blue hammer a new roof on the Doghouse, where the hellhounds slept, next to the main house. All four hellhounds sat panting and staring at them with bright red eyes the whole time they were working.

He walked toward the stairs, peering at the video screens as he went. One of them showed the griffin enclosure, where Squorp and Flurp were sleeping flopped over their mother's back. Nira kept shifting uncomfortably, but they only burrowed in more deeply. Riff was sprawled in front of the gate as if to block anyone from coming in or out.

Clink sat in the cave entrance, looking fierce and snapping at any leaves that dared to fall near her. Logan smiled. He wondered if she'd been awake all night guarding the bracelet, and whether she ever intended to sleep again.

He found his shoes and socks in the dryer in the kitchen closet and pulled them on. Captain Fuzzbutt wasn't in the living room—Logan had heard some gargantuan snores coming from Zoe's room, so he was pretty sure that's where the mammoth was. He stepped over the pillows and rugs and slid open one of the glass doors to the Menagerie.

Outside, the air felt chilly and gray and blurry in that before-sunrise kind of way. Logan rubbed his eyes and walked down toward the lake. Cleopatra and Charlemagne were standing at the edge of the water, drinking. They lifted their heads to stare at him, their horns glowing silvery pale in the dawn light.

Logan remembered what they'd said yesterday and bowed deeply. The unicorns glanced at each other with arch, pleased expressions, then both gave him a regal nod in return.

He followed the path around to the griffin enclosure and stood looking at the bolts on the gate for a moment. It wouldn't be hard to unlock them from the outside—anyone could do it. But who would have?

He wanted to go inside, but he didn't want to cause any trouble that might get his memory wiped. So he circled the enclosure until he found a boulder close enough to it that he could climb up and rest his elbows on the top of the fence.

Clink's head instantly swiveled toward him with a beady-eyed glare. When she saw who it was, she relaxed and waved her tail.

Treasure is safe, small human,
she said.
Not to worry.

“I know,” Logan said, giving her a thumbs-up. Small human! He wasn't short at all compared to most guys his age, although it was kind of embarrassing that he had to roll up the bottoms of Blue's jeans. But anyone would be short next to Blue.

“Pssst,”
Logan called softly, trying not to wake Nira or Riff. “Squorp!”

The tawny griffin cub stretched sleepily and dug his claws into his mother's fur. She wriggled and spread her wings, knocking him to the ground. Squorp rolled over and sat up with a startled expression. His feathers stuck out all around his face, and his fur was rumpled. Logan waved.

Logan!
Squorp shook himself like a puppy and bounded over to the fence.
Missed you!
He jumped up and down, flapping his wings so Logan could reach the top of his head to scratch it.
Did you bring cow?

“Sorry, buddy, no cow,” Logan said. “I missed you, too, though.”

Oh WAIT!
Squorp cried. He stopped jumping and sat down to give Logan a stern look.
Squorp mad at you.

“Mad at me?” Logan said. “Why? I'm sorry I didn't bring cow. I'll try to next time.”

Not about cow!
Squorp lashed his tail. He tilted his sharp beak toward Clink.
FIRST you bring back Bossy Bossy. What? Not sensible. Much more fun without her here! And THEN . . .
He paused dramatically, his chest swelling with outrage.
THEN Logan give CLINK treasure INSTEAD OF SQUORP.
The griffin clacked his beak furiously.
Very treasure Squorp found! Where SQUORP treasure, Logan? WHERE SQUORP TREASURE?

“I'm sorry, Squorp,” Logan said. He leaned over the fence, but Squorp took a step back, lifting his chin indignantly. “I'll find you some treasure, okay? Some really great treasure. I promise.”

Hrrrrrrmph,
said Squorp.

“Especially if you help me find the other cubs,” Logan said. “What can you tell me about the griffins who are still missing?”

Squorp hesitated, as if he wanted to stay mad but couldn't resist talking about his brothers and sisters.

“You could be the hero, Squorp,” Logan said. He remembered the feathers on the post office steps the day before. “One of them is dark brown, right?”

Squorp snorted violently, his feathers flapping up and down.
That Clonk! Pfft. Clonk want so badly to be Clink. Super major big copycat.
He rolled his eyes.

“Do you know where Clonk went when you split up?” Logan asked.

Squorp shook his head.
Tried to follow Clink, but she bit him. Poor Clonk. Not very cool. Not like Squorp.

“You are pretty cool,” Logan agreed. “What about the other two? What do they look like? Have they picked their names yet?”

No, still deciding. Little gray sister, very clever. Too clever. Always thinking instead of eating or playing. Not natural.

“What kind of treasure would she like?” Logan asked.

Anything secret,
Squorp said.
Most secret best treasure in town, probably.

Logan rubbed his head, thinking. Where would there be secret treasure in a town like Xanadu?

“And the last griffin?” he asked.

Red brother,
Squorp said.
Lots of fun, except at food time.
He spread his wings as wide as they would go.
Always hungry! Takes all the food! No good at sharing! Likes cow EVEN MORE than Squorp.
He eyed Logan beadily.
Logan better not give him SQUORP'S cow.

“Don't worry,” Logan said with a grin. “I will bring you masses of hamburger for this. Totally helpful, Squorp.”

Squorp preened, smoothing his head feathers with one claw.
Squorp very helpful.

“Yes, you are,” Logan said. “You're magnificent.”

Squorp MAGNIFICENT.

“If you think of anything else that might help, let me know, okay?” Logan said. “I'll come back later today if I can. But I'd better get back to the house before anyone finds me missing.”

Bye, Logan! Come back soon! With treasure and cow!
Squorp flapped his wings and bounced over to his mother, looking hungry.

Oops,
Logan thought.
Poor Nira.
He got down from the boulder in a hurry so he wouldn't be the first thing the grumpy white griffin saw when she woke up. He was pretty sure she wouldn't be pleased that he'd woken Squorp so early.

As he walked back to the lake, something odd happened. It was hard for Logan to describe—it felt like a large shadow passing overhead, along with a gust of hot wind. But when he looked up, there was nothing in the gray sky above him.

“Huh,” he said to himself. He could hear Pelly honking inside the Aviary and low rumbles coming from the mountain dens, which he assumed were the sounds of the three dragons waking up. Part of him was really tempted to go looking for them right now, before anyone could wipe his memory and he lost his chance forever. But he had a feeling that wandering into dragon dens uninvited was probably a bad idea.

He glanced up at the house and saw a light on in one of the upper windows. Somebody was up. Time to head back.

But when he glanced down again, he saw something standing on the shore of the lake—something he hadn't noticed before.

It looked like an ordinary horse. Its coat was grayish black, and water poured off its dripping black mane. It had enormous soft dark eyes, which were watching Logan in a way that seemed to say
I understand you. You're the friend I've been waiting for my whole life
.

“Wow,” Logan said softly. It was like those eyes were calling to him. He approached cautiously, holding out one hand. The horse nickered, low and gentle.

Logan guessed this was like the normal birds in the Aviary—a regular horse to keep the unicorns company, or for the Kahns to ride around the Menagerie wherever the golf carts couldn't go.

The horse reached forward and nuzzled Logan's cupped hand. Its nose was warm and velvety, even though it was wet.

“Have you been swimming?” Logan asked in a low voice. The horse's eyes met his, like it understood every word he said. He felt a small burst of happiness in his chest. He really was great with the Menagerie creatures—it was like he connected with them just as well as he did with his own pets. Surely Zoe wouldn't want to get rid of him once she realized he belonged here.

The horse sidled closer, as if it was offering its back to Logan. It turned its head to give him another meaningful look.

“Really?” Logan said. “You want me to ride you?”

The horse made a friendly whuffling sound and shook its mane at him.

Logan couldn't resist. Maybe it wanted to show him something important. And there was a rock right at Logan's feet, in the perfect spot for climbing up.

“Okay,” Logan said. “Time for me to finally be a cowboy, right?”

He grasped the horse's mane and swung one leg over its back.

A roar of thunder boomed in Logan's ears as soon as he landed on the horse, as if he were in the middle of a storm cloud. The horse leaped forward into the lake in one mighty jump.

Logan yelled with alarm and then choked as the water closed over his head, pouring into his mouth. He let go of the horse's mane and tried to push away from it, to swim to the surface.

But he was
stuck to the horse's back.

A magical force kept him pinned in place as the horse sank lower and lower—away from the air, away from the sky.

Logan was drowning.