The Menagerie (9 page)

FOURTEEN

F
ind the cub and get out,
Logan told himself uneasily. This wasn't the right way to look. If someone could see the griffin as they walked along an aisle, she'd have been spotted hours ago.
Where would I hide in here if I were the size of a big puppy?

Or where would I go if I were looking for treasure?

“Zoe?” he said quietly.

“Over here,” she whispered. He found her behind the upstairs information desk, checking cabinets.

“Why would the griffin come here?” he asked. “What would make her think there's treasure in a library?”

“This one likes it when I read out loud,” Zoe said. “Maybe books
are
treasure to her.”

“Aww,” Logan said. “So she's like the teacher's pet of griffins.”

“She
is
my favorite,” Zoe admitted, tucking her hair behind her ears. She opened the last cabinet and sighed.

“What's her favorite book?” Logan asked. “Does she have one?”

“Of course,” Zoe said. “Harry Potter, obviously.”

“Makes sense,” Logan said. “I'm going to check the children's room.”

He hurried to the stairwell in the center of the building. On the ground floor there was an archway painted with characters like the Very Hungry Caterpillar, Olivia, and the Wild Things. He'd never actually gone through it into the kids' room before.

The windows were bigger and the shelves were lower in here, with rows of “Librarian's Picks” picture books propped up on top of them. Posters of Newbery and Caldecott winners lined the walls, and a few of the tables had wooden puzzles neatly stacked on them. A fish tank blooped quietly, glowing an eerie blue next to the circular main desk.

There was no sign of a griffin cub. At least not until Logan checked the “R” shelves and found all the J. K. Rowling books missing.

He looked around the big room again and spotted a glass door at the back. A finger-painted sign taped to the glass said:
STORYTIME ROOM!
A list of days and times was posted next to the door. Logan noticed that Friday was not one of the days listed.

Through the glass Logan could see a small room with a cheerful ABC mat covering the floor. Three fabric toy boxes of board books and kid instruments were lined up in one corner. In the other corner was a little wooden playhouse as tall as Logan.

He tried the knob, but the door was locked.
That means she couldn't be in there, right?

Still . . .

Logan went back to the main desk in the middle of the room and slipped behind the counter. Pencils, bookmarks, and stickers covered its surface. . . . Then he saw something glint in the moonlight. Two keys were hanging on a hook under the desk. He lifted them up a little guiltily and headed back to the kids' room. Sure enough, one of them fit the Storytime Room door.

As he pushed it open, he heard a rustling from the playhouse.

“Griffin cub?” he whispered. “It's okay. I'm here to help you.”

There was a long pause. Finally a beak and a pair of dark eyes peeked out of the playhouse window.

Really?
said the griffin's voice in his head.

“I promise,” Logan said. “My name is Logan. I'm here with Zoe and Blue.”

The griffin threw her wings open and came tumbling out of the back of the playhouse. She galloped up to Logan, and for a moment he was afraid she'd run right past him and escape again. But instead, with a great deal of flapping, she launched herself up and into his arms.

Her soft, dark-gray wings wrapped around his shoulders, and she buried her head in his neck.

So worried!
she said.
Flurp found such beautiful treasure, such perfect treasure, and then the tall ladies came and Flurp hid, so fast! So well! With treasure in good hiding place! But then Flurp came out and DOOR LOCKED! Flurp stuck! Flurp trapped! What good treasure without FREEDOM?
She picked up her head to look at him soulfully.
Flurp learned valuable lesson today.

“So you're ready to go home?” Logan asked.

Flurp settled her paws against his chest and tucked her tail over one of his arms.
Flurp ready to write fabulous tales of grand adventure. Flurp ready to be most famous author of all time! From nice warm safe cave with much fish.
She clacked her beak.
Nothing to eat in here but BOOKS.

“Did you actually—?” Logan glanced through the playhouse window. The floor was covered in Harry Potter books, as if Flurp had been making a nest out of them.

Eat books?! Flurp would NEVER! Flurp would STARVE first!

The griffin cub let out a tiny burp that smelled of crayons.

“Yikes,” Logan said. “Let's get you to some real food.”

Zoe and Blue were coming down the stairs as he walked out of the children's room. Zoe gasped and ran up to him when she saw the griffin in Logan's arms.

“Nice work, Logan!” Blue said.

“Thanks.” Logan shifted the griffin, trying not to grin too hugely.

“Are you all right?” Zoe asked the cub. She stroked the little ruff of soft feathers around the griffin's neck. “I was really worried about you.”

Flurp leaned her head into Zoe's fingers and gave her a serene griffin smile.
Much better now. So HAPPY to be going back. Worry-Cub never mentioned that no food allowed in libraries!

“She says she's better now,” Logan told Zoe. “Her name is Flurp, by the way.”

Zoe groaned. “Flurp?” she said to the griffin cub. “What was wrong with Hermione? I thought you'd love that!”

Logan listened for a minute. “She says Hermione is great, but Flurp is an original. No copycatting for the one and only Flurp.”

With a sigh, Zoe smoothed Flurp's wings. “Well, it's better than Squorp,” she said. Flurp made a sound like a chuckle.

Suddenly Blue grabbed Zoe and Logan and pushed them into the space under the stairs. Flurp squawked indignantly, and Blue wrapped one hand around her beak, shushing them all. He pointed at the front door.

A yellow light was bobbing outside—low and small, like a flashlight.

Logan held his breath. He could feel Zoe doing the same thing beside him. Even Flurp went perfectly still, like Logan's mice whenever they spotted Purrsimmon.

The light moved closer as the dark figure behind the flashlight walked up the steps of the library. It had to be the person Logan had seen in the shadows outside. But why would someone be lurking around the library at this hour?

The flashlight beam shone through the glass windows, scanning slowly across the carpeted floor. It traveled over the circulation desk and the bulletin board, the elevator door and the display case of Halloween books and horror stories. The light passed a few yards from Logan's sneakers.

Finally the dark figure backed away, shining the light up at the second floor. After a moment, he or she went down the steps, but instead of walking away, the bobbing light began to circle around the building.

“Who is that?” Logan whispered. It seemed like his pulse was beating in his ears, it was going so fast.

“I have no idea,” said Blue. “Do you think they know we're in here?”

“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

L
ogan, 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 AWK 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!”