While he was thinking, the griffin managed to hop up on to the green-tiled kitchen counter by bouncing several times on his talons and flapping his wings like mad, knocking over everything within reach. Logan rescued the salt shaker from under the kitchen island and replaced the spatulas in the utensil holder, trying not to laugh.
Squorp poked the fridge with his beak. Doesn’t smell like food, he complained. Or else Squorp would have checked in there. So hungry! All day! All alone with small scritchies taunting me! He gave Logan a reproachful look.
“I highly doubt Mr. and Mrs. Smith were taunting you,” Logan said. “And I’m glad you didn’t find the fridge, because I have no idea how I’d explain to Dad why I’d eaten everything in the house.”
Ahh, Squorp warbled in a tone of ancient wisdom. Squorp know all about dads.
“Tell me more about where you come from,” Logan said, piling squashy, dripping meat on a paper plate in front of Squorp. “What do Zoe and Blue have to do with it?”
Worry-Cub and Fish-Boy? They feed us. Squorp sucked up a huge mouthful of hamburger and flapped his wings with glee. Not very well! Not like this!
Logan felt a surge of worry. What if griffins could only handle a small amount of food before exploding? What if you weren’t supposed to feed them between noon and midnight or else they’d try to eat people? He didn’t really know anything about griffins; and since they weren’t even supposed to exist, anything he’d found online could be completely wrong.
“So you escaped because you were hungry?” he asked. The hamburger meat was disappearing fast.
And to find treasure! The websites Logan had scanned all said griffins were fierce protectors of their gold. It was funny to think of the little cub fiercely protecting anything, though.
Squorp opened his beak wide, paused for a long moment, and then went “SQUOOOOOOOOOOOOOORP.” A blast of meaty breath hit Logan in the face, and he waved his hand in the air.
“Nice, Squorp,” he said. “Very civilized.”
The griffin clacked his beak, looking pleased with himself.
“Listen,” Logan said. “I’d love to keep you, but I think you probably need to go home.”
NOOO! Squorp wailed. He flopped over on the counter and covered his head with his wings. No home! Home terrible! Terrible terrible! Everyone bossing me around! Keeping food from me! Making me go to bed when NOT EVEN TIRED!
“That does sound terrible,” Logan said. “Maybe . . . maybe you should take me there.”
Squorp stopped writhing and gave Logan a sharp-eyed look. Take you there?
“Sure.” Logan tried to look casual, like he wasn’t really dying of curiosity. How did Zoe and Blue keep this secret? And what else might be hidden away with the griffins and dragons? “You can show me how terrible it is.”
Squorp bounced back onto all fours and waved his tail like a cat.
Squorp show Logan all the dreadfulness! And the no food! And the dragons! And the tiny cave! And the NO FOOD!
“Yeah, okay. Sounds like a plan,” Logan said, grinning at Squorp.
The griffin’s long, curved beak did something very much like a smile.
Squorp show Logan the Menagerie.
FIVE
Where could they be?
Zoe turned to look back at the empty street.
They must be in town somewhere. But where are they all hiding?
She and Blue had been all over Xanadu, and while they’d found lots of feathers, they hadn’t spotted a single griffin cub.
Or maybe Dad’s right and they’re all out in the wilderness by now.
But she knew these cubs. She was sure they’d stay close to town—close to people, to familiar food, to all the interesting new smells they’d find outside the Menagerie.
There was a sharp pain at the base of her neck, as if she’d been tensing her shoulders for too long. She tried rolling her head from side to side as they waited for the light to change.
Her life was always crazy, but searching for missing griffin cubs was a whole new level of stressful . . . especially when everyone thought their escape was her fault.
Across the street, something drifted along the library steps.
“Blue!” she cried, reaching over to grab his arm. “Look!”
“Definitely a feather,” he said. It was dark gray-blue—the color of one of the female griffin cubs.
“She’s the one who likes books!” Zoe said. “She curls up in my lap and lets me read to her. Not a big fan of The Crucible, though. That one she tried to eat a couple of times.”
“Really?” Blue said. “I kind of liked it.”
“Me, too,” Zoe said absently, her mind on the griffin. “Come on, let’s check inside.”
They locked their bikes in the bike rack, and Zoe hurried into the library ahead of Blue. The librarians at the desk were calmly stamping books. She could see three little kids playing with the alphabet puzzles in the children’s room. An old couple peered at one of the computer catalogs together, wearing matching confused frowns.
“Looks like good news,” Blue said, coming up behind her. “Nobody’s screaming or running around in a panic.”
“Yay,” Zoe said.
“Or taking photos and uploading them instantly to the internet,” Blue added.
“Okay, wow. I didn’t think I could be more anxious, but now I am,” said Zoe. “Thanks for that.”
“Want to head upstairs?” he suggested. “No one ever goes into the back corners of the nonfiction section. Maybe she’s hiding there.”
“She doesn’t like nonfiction,” Zoe said. “She jabbed her beak right through my history book. And I’m pretty sure Mrs. Novik didn’t buy my story about a bald eagle trying to steal it.” She sighed. “But okay, let’s check.”
Another feather was lying on the second step of the stairs, so the griffin had definitely come inside. Zoe was about to swoop it up when she heard someone purr “Hey, Blue” from behind her.
She knew that voice way too well. Zoe grabbed the feather and hid it behind her back as she turned around.
Jasmin Sterling stood in the doorway of the teen room with a stack of three books propped on her hip. Her short-sleeved white angora sweater glowed against her skin, and her long, dark hair brushed the top of her skinny jeans.
As usual, she wouldn’t even look at Zoe.
“Hey, Jasmin,” Blue answered. “Whatcha reading?”
“The Hunger Games,” she said, glancing at her books. “Jonathan said I’d like it.”
Zoe loved The Hunger Games. Six months ago, she and Jasmin would have read it together and then stayed up all night talking about the movie and arguing about who was cuter, Peeta or Gale. But when you couldn’t be friends with someone anymore and it was your own fault, you didn’t get to be sad about all the things you’d never do together now.
The stairs trembled under Zoe’s sneakers. She backed up against the wall as Jasmin’s dad came jogging down, his smile big and toothy like it was in all the ads about him running for mayor. Had he seen the feather behind her back?
He stopped on the step above her. “Zoe Kahn,” he said, doing a little finger gun at her. At least he didn’t say “We haven’t seen you around lately!” anymore like he had for the first three months.
“How’s your sister?” he asked instead, which was nearly as awkward. “Enjoying college?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Jonathan loves it. We can barely get him on the phone between crew practice and a cappella rehearsals. Luckily he runs out of clean laundry every few weeks, so he’s home for the weekend.”
Zoe never knew what to say to Jasmin’s parents, so she stuck with her usual response. “That’s great, Mr. Sterling.”
“Dad,” Jasmin said. “You’re being boring.”
“Hello, Blue. Good to see you, too.” Mr. Sterling looked Blue up and down as though Blue were a new wind energy factory he was thinking of buying. Mr. Sterling owned half the land surrounding Xanadu. He would have owned more if Zoe’s grandparents had
n’t long ago bought up the acres around the Menagerie.
She wondered if he knew about Jasmin’s crush and if that was why he always looked at Blue funny. Well, he didn’t have to worry. After the Ruby-Jonathan disaster, Zoe and Blue were forbidden to date anyone.
“Going upstairs?” Mr. Sterling asked. “You two can share our table.” He beckoned to Jasmin, who rolled her eyes at Blue like Aren’t parents sooooo embarrassing?
“Uh—no thanks,” Zoe said. They couldn’t prowl around upstairs with Jasmin and her dad watching their every move. And if they found the griffin, then what? Drag it yowling out of the library in front of everyone?
They needed a better plan. And a Sterling-free zone.
“You sure?” said Mr. Sterling. “I just found the weirdest feather up there. I’ve got a book on wild birds in Wyoming, and I’m going to try to figure out which one it comes from.”
“DAD,” Jasmin said. “Total YAWN already.”
Zoe hoped she didn’t look as queasy as she felt. Her phone buzzed. Grateful for the distraction, she crouched down, snuck the feather inside her backpack, and rummaged through it until she found the phone, a hand-me-down from Ruby when she got an iPhone for college.
The text said Stop panicking.
Zoe took a deep breath and glanced at Blue, who had already tucked his phone away again. His face was all innocence as he listened to Jasmin’s story about how Marco Jimenez had eaten corn he’d brought from home for lunch today and wasn’t that so weird because who didn’t like pizza?
There was also a text Zoe had missed from her brother. Get home quick, it said. Apparently I have no idea how to feed a phoenix with the proper respect.
Zoe deleted the text as fast as she could, frowning. Matthew was never careful enough about that stuff. What if someone stole her phone, or his? She’d have to delete the outgoing message from his phone later, too, since he would never do it even if she reminded him a million times.
“We gotta go, Blue,” she said. “But thanks, Mr. Sterling.”
“Good luck with the bird ID,” Blue said. Zoe wished she could ever be that casual. He nudged Jasmin. “Let me know how the book is.”
“I will,” she said, smiling as if he’d asked her to prom.
“Make sure your parents vote in November!” Mr. Sterling beamed at them. “Hey, I think I’ve got some campaign buttons in here.” He reached into his jacket pockets.
“DAAAAAAD. Wouldn’t it be easier to just shoot me instead of embarrassing me to death?” Jasmin shoved her dad up the stairs ahead of her and fluttered her fingers in a good-bye wave to Blue.
Poor Jasmin, Zoe thought as she followed Blue out the door. She knew how long Jasmin had liked Blue. But Blue was exactly that nice to every girl in school, and as far as Zoe knew he didn’t like any of them as more than friends.
She stopped by her bike, biting her thumbnail. “Should we go back in?” she asked Blue. “I don’t want them to see us looking for the cub, but what if they find her themselves? Or what if she escapes before we get back?”
“Then we’ll deal with it,” Blue said. “Try to bring your freaking out down to an eight. I don’t need my best friend going gray before she’s fourteen.” He punched her shoulder and bent to unlock his bike.
Zoe glanced up and saw Jasmin and Mr. Sterling watching them from an upstairs window. They might be thinking about birds and Blue right now, but if they knew what was in the library with them . . . if anyone ever found out . . .
Her headache was back, worse than ever.
Please, if anyone out there is listening, she prayed, please please help us get those cubs back.
SIX
Logan expected Zoe’s house to be big when he realized it was on the far side of town, but he was still shocked by its size as he biked up to it. He’d only seen one bigger house anywhere in Xanadu, and that was the Sterling mansion, surrounded by STERLING FOR MAYOR signs, five blocks away. Logan had biked past it a few times, wondering what it would be like to be that rich.
But somehow he’d never noticed Zoe’s rambling gray stone house, or the giant matching wall that abutted it. Both were hidden from the street by a thick copse of trees. It was only when Logan turned up the crooked driveway that he could see the wall stretching for what looked like a mile in each direction away from the house.
Squorp had barely squeezed into Logan’s backpack for the ride over, although he kept scaring the daylights out of Logan by popping his head out to see the view. Logan could just imagine explaining to a police officer that no, that wasn’t an endangered bald eagle in his bag—just a mythical griffin, nothing to see here, carry on.
He got off his bike and wheeled it into the trees, out of sight of the driveway. Squorp wriggled his beak through the zipper again, and Logan swung the bag off his back to let the griffin out.
“Should we go up and ring the doorbell?” Logan asked.
No no no! Squorp tumbled to the ground, landing in an ungraceful heap. Logan had to hide his smile.
With a harrumph sound, Squorp shook the dust off his wings. Main house is where Worry-Cub and Danger-Smell and Treasure-Paws and rest of family live. Squorp take you to dismal cave now.
Close up, the wall around the property was even taller than Logan had thought. Somebody clearly doesn’t want their neighbors in their business. He glanced at Squorp. I guess I know why.
“Squorp, how are we getting inside?” Logan stepped back and peered upward. “Even if you can fly over this wall, I can’t.”
Too young for flying. SUPPOSEDLY. Around, around. Squorp take you to super-stealth entrance. The griffin fluffed up his chest and bounded off.
After fifteen minutes of walking, scrambling over fallen trees, and being clawed by bushes, Logan still couldn’t spot any gaps or gates. He was getting worried. Not to mention impressed with how much land the Kahns owned.
Enough for lots of griffins and dragons, he thought. He was trying not to get too excited. Maybe Squorp was exaggerating about the dragons.
“Squorp, how much farther is the super-stealth entrance? Not that this is starting to feel like a wild-goose chase or anything.”
Ha! Goose chasing not this fun, no fun at all! Tried it once. Very bad game. Our goose no good at being chased. Very pokey-snappy with beak. Squorp tail sad for DAYS.
Squorp crashed ahead through a thicket of yellow leaves and brambles. Logan decided to go around. Five minutes later Squorp came to a stop in front of a stretch of wall that looked just like the rest.
But as Logan approached, he saw a small creek running under the wall. Somebody had sliced through the grate that covered the opening and bent back the wires to create a hole Logan or a griffin cub could easily fit through.
Squorp turned around and clacked his beak at Logan. See? No fly. Swim!
“That’s how you got out?” Logan asked. He peered at the grate. “Griffin claws can do that?”
Don’t think so. Squorp gave his claws a curious look, as if he expected them to explain their abilities. Not sure. We found it like that. The griffin slid down the bank of the creek, landing with a splash and a startled “Grawp!”
Cold! Bah! Forgot how cold! Quick, through hole. Logan see all the dreadfulness and then take Squorp away. Pitiful food. Lack of treasure. Terrible, terrible.
Logan paused. He didn’t love swimming. And he hadn’t planned on getting wet. But that would be a really, really lame excuse for missing out on dragons.
He edged down the side of the ditch, keeping one hand on the wall to steady his footing. The cold water sent a shiver rocketing up his spine. He gritted his teeth and plunged in. It was much deeper than he’d expected; his feet couldn’t reach the bottom. He swam against the current up to the grate and hauled himself through the gap after Squorp.
Logan not a water creature? The griffin grinned in the almost-darkness and clacked his beak at Logan.
“Not remotely,” Logan said. “Please tell me we don’t have to swim far.”
Not far. This way!
“Wow,” Logan breathed. “It’s pitch-dark in here.”
Not to Squorp. Watch out for pipe!
Logan reached forward and felt a metal pipe running along the roof of the tunnel. “Thanks.”
Up ahead he saw light coming in from the right and Squorp’s silhouette waiting for him. As they emerged into the sunshine, Logan realized the water flowed through a man-made ditch. Cement walls rose up on either side, so high it reminded Logan of the moats used to keep animals within their enclosures at zoos. A few yards from the main wall the water split, curving gently to the right and left.
This way! This way!
Squorp dove down the right-hand fork and Logan followed. Up ahead the stream ended at a wide lake, but before they reached it, part of the bank dipped lower to the water, with a tree growing out of the edge. Squorp was already clawing his way up the roots. Logan quickly hoisted himself out of the water next to Squorp, wrung out the bottom of his shirt, and looked around.
They were standing in a field of overgrown grass dotted with bright yellow flowers next to a fenced-in enclosure. The fence was more than twice Squorp’s height and built from planks of pale-golden pinewood, with trails of morning glory vines winding around the top. Logan was just tall enough to see over it to the scattered piles of boulders inside. Most of the boulders were flat and large enough for a full-grown lion to lie across. Tiny sparkles in the gray rocks caught the sunlight.
On the far side of the enclosure was a cave surrounded by pear trees. Logan squinted at it. Something was moving in the shadows of the cave.
“What’s back there?” Logan asked.
DOWN! Squorp seized Logan’s wet pants in his claws and yanked so hard that Logan tumbled right over into the grass.
The Menagerie Page 3