by Bryan Chick
“Don’t know,” Ella said. “Guess the seasons are different in the City of Species.”
“And the time,” Noah said. “When we were here last, the time was way off. We came in at night, and here it was day.”
Ella shrugged. “Questions for Mr. Darby, I guess.”
Noah felt something bump against his back. He spun around to find Richie, numb with awe, gazing at everything around them.
“What do you think?” asked Noah. “More awesome than last time, huh?”
Richie said, “This place—it’s just unreal.”
Megan emerged through the curtain and joined her friends on the sidewalk. She stared in wonder at the city.
The scouts heard a voice. “You guys coming, or what?” They turned and saw Sam standing before them, his hands planted firmly on his hips.
“C’mon!” he barked. “Darby’s waiting for us!”
Sam’s impatience made Noah realize that somehow people could actually grow used to the City of Species. It was even possible to take it for granted.
Noah nodded to his friends and said, “Let’s go.”
The scouts joined the teenagers, and together, the eight of them started toward the Library of the Secret Society. Not long into their journey, they came upon an elaborate marble building. On each side, lines of columns supported a series of small arched rooftops. Winding staircases led to high balconies beneath vaulted ceilings. On every balcony, a velvet curtain hung. The building’s white facade was covered with stained-glass windows, and high up, the building disappeared into the colorful treetops.
“Wow!” Noah said. “Check this place out!”
For a closer look, he stepped onto a stairway that led to the main entrance, only to be snagged and pulled back by Sam.
“Nuh-uh,” Sam pointed to the top of the stairway. “Read the flag.”
Noah gazed above the landing and saw a red flag hanging from a vaulted ceiling. Rippling in the breeze, the flag read, THE SECTOR OF DESCENT, and beneath that, SECTOR FOUR OF THE FORBIDDEN FIVE.
“Forbidden Five?” Noah asked as he allowed Sam to lead him up the street, pulling his arm. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just what it says—it’s forbidden.” Sam shot Noah a serious look. “There are five sectors that are off-limits to everyone but a select few in the Secret Society, and you guys are not part of that select few.”
Noah deliberated for a moment and replied with a question. “What are the other sectors?”
Sam was quiet, as if he might not answer. Finally, he did. “The Dark Lands, Creepy Critters, the Cemetery Sector, and . . .”—Sam’s voice trailed off and then returned— “and one more.”
“One more?” Noah said. “What’s it called?”
“Don’t worry about it right now,” said Sam.
Noah pulled away and rejoined his friends, whispering, “Do these guys need a lesson in manners, or what?” As they continued up the street, he glanced over his shoulder and read the flag once more: THE SECTOR OF DESCENT—SECTOR FOUR OF THE FORBIDDEN FIVE. What did it mean? And why was it forbidden?
Suddenly, they saw a group of animals charging toward them. One was a polar bear, another was a penguin, the third was a rhinoceros, and racing at their feet was a small coterie of prairie dogs. These were not ordinary animals—at least not to the scouts. They were Blizzard, Podgy, Little Bighorn, and P-Dog and his companions, and they had closely shared the scouts’ first adventure in the Secret Zoo.
The four of them rushed toward the animals, cheering. Noah wrapped his arms around Blizzard’s long neck, and the mighty polar bear softly growled and nudged his wide, wet snout against the boy’s shoulder, dotting his jacket.
“Bliz!” said Noah. “It feels like I haven’t seen you in months!”
Podgy squeezed his way in front of Blizzard. Nearly four feet tall, the emperor penguin was almost the same height as Noah. “Podge!” Noah said. “You’ve been practicing your flying, right?”
Podgy, who’d only recently learned to fly, confirmed by wagging his long flippers.
Megan walked up to Podgy and put her hand on his head. “Remember me, bud?”
The big penguin waddled from side to side with excitement. He had helped rescue Megan from a cave in the Dark Lands.
Little Bighorn plodded over to Ella and Richie, who wrapped their arms over the rhino’s leathery neck. Little Bighorn rolled his head, whacking Richie affectionately with the side of his horn.
“Ow!” Richie teased. He straightened his glasses and said, “Gentle with the specs!”
Little Bighorn snorted and lifted his massive head, raising Ella and Richie a few feet off the street.
“Whoa!” Ella said. “Don’t put me back in the trees—I just got out of them!”
Seven prairie dogs scampered up to Richie. P-Dog stood on his hind legs, yipped twice, and twitched his nose.
Richie dropped to one knee and scratched the chubby prairie dog’s head. “What’s up, P-Dog? I bet you didn’t expect to see us back so soon, huh?”
The other prairie dogs surrounded Richie, sniffing his feet and investigating the glare of his running shoes—the same glare they’d been so curious about the last time Richie had been here.
“Pretty cool, huh?” Richie stuck one foot forward, adding, “Check it out—new shoes.”
He suddenly stood straight and faced the other scouts. “When we were crossing the Metr-APE-olis sector, did you guys see that chimp with my old shoes?”
“Huh?” said Noah.
“My shoes. Some chimp had them. You didn’t see that?”
“Nuh-uh.”
Ella said, “But of course, we didn’t spend most of our time upside down like you.”
“Well, I saw them. And if they’re still out there, I’m getting them back.”
Ella asked, “Do you really care about a stinky old pair of shoes?”
“It’s a principle thing.”
Ella rolled her eyes and the scouts returned their attention to their animal friends.
Megan said to Tameron, “These animals—we met them last time we were here.”
Tameron tipped his head back and stared down on Megan. “Like we don’t know that, kid.” He turned to walk off, saying, “C’mon—we got to jet.”
Solana threw her shiny hair off her shoulders and looked at the scouts and the animals. “It’s great you guys are so in love with one another, but we’ve got a job to do.”
Blizzard swung his snout in Solana’s direction and snarled.
Casually, she said, “Knock it off, Bliz. You know we don’t have time to waste.”
“Wait a minute,” Noah said, glancing between Solana and Blizzard. “You two . . . you know each other?”
Solana nodded. Beside her, Hannah blew a small bubble that quickly burst against her lips.
“But with so many animals, how—?”
“Blizzard, Podgy, Little Big, P—we know all the big players around here,” said Solana.
Noah wasn’t sure he liked the teenagers knowing their animal friends. The escorts had been treating the scouts so rudely that Noah preferred to keep them at a distance.
“C’mon!” Sam said. “Let’s speed it up already!”
He led his friends down the street into the crowd of busy animals. Noah and Megan clambered onto Blizzard’s back as Ella and Richie climbed onto Little Bighorn.
From the trees, a tiny bird swooped down. He had metallic blue wings, bright red legs, and an orange bill that was nearly as long as his body. He landed on Noah’s shoulder and sidestepped until he found a spot that suited him.
“Marlo!” said Noah.
The kingfisher tipped his head from side to side and chirped loudly as he ruffled his feathers. Then he turned and pointed his long beak at Blizzard’s second passenger.
Smiling, Megan said, “I’m along for the ride this time, Marlo.”
Marlo chirped a second time and looked away.
Blizzard and Little Bighorn headed across the City of Speci
es, the scouts shifting atop the animals’ massive muscles. They wove through the crowded streets and caught up to the teenagers. Noah found himself beside Sam, who was talking to Tameron, his arm raised as he pointed to a building. Noah saw a zipper running along the seam of his sleeve and down his side to his waist. At the wrist, the metal slider had a C-shaped steel clip attached to it; near the waist, there was a steel buckle. Noah thought the slider and the buckle could clip together, allowing Sam to open the zipper just by raising his arm. But why would a jacket unzip in such a peculiar way?
Noah turned his attention back to the City of Species— its animals, its commotion, its magnificence. He studied the velvet curtains they passed. No two were the same. They had different colors, different textures, different sheens, and different tassels. He wondered why the curtains were necessary, and why they were made of velvet. They had a critical function in the Secret Zoo, but he didn’t know how they worked. He wished he could ask one of the teenagers, but he knew what kind of answer he’d receive—in essence, “Shut up.”
For now, Noah dismissed these concerns. He was looking forward to hearing what Mr. Darby had to say. He was also curious about the Library of the Secret Society. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like, but he was certain it would be nothing less than spectacular.
Chapter 7
The Library of the Secret Society
The teenagers veered off the street and led the scouts between two columns with a blue banner that read, “The Library of the Secret Society” with shiny gold letters. They climbed a wide stairway that led to a massive, octagonal building with a high glass roof. The stairway surrounded the entire library, its sharp bends creating eight distinct sections. The top of each section had a landing with its own entrance into the building, and on each landing was a fountain from which water sprayed. Blizzard and Little Bighorn lumbered up the steps, their muscular backs shifting and pitching the scouts about.
The stairs were crowded with people and animals, all holding books. The animals had found unique ways to carry them. A kangaroo hopped past Noah, its pouch brimming with comics. A cheetah ran around Blizzard, its jaws locked on a thick dictionary. A komodo dragon slipped beneath Little Bighorn, books strapped to its back. Undoubtedly these animals were returning books on behalf of people. As intelligent as many of the Secret Zoo animals were, Noah was certain they couldn’t read.
He stared up at the library, awestruck. At least twenty stories high, it was made of marble. On each story, a balcony stretched around the entire building. Trees grew on both sides of the library walls, their limbs reaching through the windows and marble blocks in both directions.
Noah wondered if P-Dog and Podgy would be able to climb the long staircase. He looked down and spotted the prairie dogs leaping from step to step, yipping in defiance of the challenge. Then Podgy flew past, his stomach a mound of blubber dangling beneath his flapping flippers. The penguin gracefully touched down at the top of the staircase beneath sprays of water that arched between two fountains.
“Nice landing, Podge!” Noah said.
Podgy pumped his flippers once to say thanks.
Blizzard heaved his weight over the top step engraved with the words Library of the Secret Society—Check it out! The scouts and the animals followed their escorts to the closest entrance—a wide doorway draped with long trails of pearls and glass beads. People and animals flooded in and out through the doorway, making the beads clink together and reflect light in all directions. Once inside, Noah turned to watch the others. As P-Dog stepped in, he caught a bead in his eye and chomped at the offending glass globule. The others made it through without a problem.
“Holy smokes!” Richie gasped, craning his neck back and forth. “Look at this place!”
Noah was already doing just that. It would have been impossible not to. He guessed that it reached at least six hundred feet across, roughly the length of two football fields. Twenty stories above was an elaborate glass ceiling with painted engravings depicting the mingling of nature, animals, and books. Sunlight burst through it, streaking bright rays in which thousands of particles danced. Falling leaves colored the air, and fallen leaves carpeted the floor.
Trees and towering bookcases loomed over everything like walls in a colossal maze. The trees provided a framework for the bookcases. Shelves were attached to trunks, and rows of books were stacked along horizontal branches.
Along the inner perimeter of the library, Noah saw the same marble balconies that he’d seen on the outside. One per story, they shared the huge space with the trees and bookcases. Narrow walkways extended from them and stretched across the library to new places. People strolled along, skimming titles with their fingers and plucking books from the shelves.
Staring at the surroundings, Ella said, “You have got to be kidding.” She made each word pop as she said it.
Noah said, “But the trees—they have to grow. What . . . what happens then?”
Solana surprised Noah by answering. “They adjust.”
“Huh?”
“The bookcases—they adjust.”
“Adjust? How?”
Solana answered by pointing up to a velvet patch near the spot where a tree limb had grown through a bookcase. Noah scanned the other bookcases. Wherever the trees had grown through the wood, similar velvet patches were nearby. He had seen these patches before—on the teenagers’ clothes.
Noah’s eyes dropped to the back of Solana’s jacket, where strips of white velvet ran along the vertical seams. It was surely the same velvet that hung throughout the City of Species at the entrances to the sectors. They adjust, she had said. What exactly did that mean? And would Solana’s jacket “adjust” because of its velvet?
Noah watched Sam lean over and whisper in Solana’s ear. She nodded but said nothing.
“How does the velvet work?” Noah asked. “What gives the velvet its power?”
This time, Solana offered no response. Noah was sure she’d taken instructions from Sam to stop answering questions. It was becoming clear that the scouts couldn’t trust the teenagers.
Noah frowned and returned his attention to the library. Monkeys crowded the heights. They wore blue vests that buttoned up in front, marking them as the first clothed animals that Noah had seen in the Secret Zoo. One of them would occasionally snatch a book from a shelf, climb to a bridge or jump to the ground, and pass it to a human patron.
“The monkeys . . .” Noah said to Megan. “They’re handling books for people. They work here.”
Megan nodded. “Too cool, huh?”
The group reached an intersection in the aisles, where they stopped to let a line of slow-moving sloths pass. Tameron propped his fists against his hips, irritated by the delay.
An old lady with beaded eyeglasses, plump cheeks, and a kind face came toward them. Deep wrinkles folded from the corners of her eyes. On her name tag was printed “Mrs. Fellerton.” She was walking beside a tortoise with a large wire box full of neatly stacked books strapped to its shell. The tortoise seemed to be acting as Mrs. Fellerton’s book cart. She stopped directly beside Ella and Richie and said, “First time inside?”
“Yeah,” said Ella. “But how . . . I mean . . . the books are so high. And the trees . . .”
Mrs. Fellerton chuckled. “We fetch most of the books for our patrons. It’s always been that way. It must seem odd for someone who’s visiting our library for the first time.”
Noah saw the opportunity to get an answer to his question. He glanced at Sam to be sure he wasn’t paying attention and leaned toward the librarian. “The velvet patches on the bookshelves—how do they get their power?”
The librarian smiled. “The power doesn’t come from the velvet. The power comes from the books and the wisdom and worlds they contain.” The kind lady swept her arm high in the air. “The velvet simply gathers the power in the books and materializes it into something you can see—which are the changes to the bookshelves.”
Noah scrunched up his face. The librari
an was talking in riddles.
“Be patient,” said Mrs. Fellerton. “Knowledge comes with time. Nothing else.”
“But . . .” Noah’s voice trailed off when he realized the librarian wasn’t going to answer him directly.
Tameron turned to Little Bighorn and Blizzard and said, “C’mon, guys. Darby’s this way.”
The group hung a left turn and headed down an aisle so narrow that Little Bighorn’s sides nearly rubbed against the shelves. Noah craned his neck. The towering woodwork made the space above him appear to narrow gradually, an illusion created by the height of the bookcases.
The animals followed Tameron as he turned down another aisle, and another, and another. Nearing the middle of the library, the group heard the lulling splash of falling water.
“What’s that noise?” Ella asked no one in particular.
“The Fountain Forum,” Solana answered. “That’s where we’re headed.”
Marlo turned on Noah’s shoulder, brushing his feathers across the scout’s cheek. Noah was reminded of another bird—Podgy. He peered over his shoulder to see the big penguin waddling along, staring blankly at his surroundings. Around him, the prairie dogs were chasing one another, racing between the books on the bottom shelves and tunneling in and out of the leaves. Podgy barely seemed to notice them—he just waddled forward, his flippers pressed flat against his sides and his webbed feet slinging colorful leaves into the air.
They rounded one more bookcase and stepped into a clearing. Here, a circular formation of pillars pushed through the treetops and stretched hundreds of feet to the ceiling, where they helped support the glass roof. In the middle of the pillars was a long, oval fountain. Around it, people read books in plush chairs with wide armrests and pillowy ottomans. They looked utterly relaxed, as if on the verge of deep meditation or, perhaps, of falling asleep in the literal blink of their eyes.
As the scouts and their escorts passed the readers, an old man bounced out of a chair and dropped his book to his seat as his purple velvet trench coat draped around his feet. Narrow, rectangular sunglasses concealed his eyes but exposed his bushy eyebrows. His gray beard was as long and shaggy as his ponytail. Mr. Darby.