The Menagerie

by Tui T. Sutherland

  “That is—” Logan trailed off as Blue came striding out of the lake. Shimmering blueberry-colored scales were still melting into the skin around his waist. Logan threw his hands over his eyes.

  “Relax,” Zoe said, trying not to laugh. “He puts on shorts underwater before he comes up. We have a strict no-mermaid-nakedness policy.” Which most of them hate, she thought.

  “Oh, thank God,” Logan said, dropping his hands.

  “Hey, Logan,” Blue said casually, grinning, as if it didn’t surprise him at all to find the new kid hanging out inside the Menagerie with Zoe. He took a towel from the storage chest beside the water and toweled off his hair.

  Zoe saw the happy look that flashed across Logan’s face. He hadn’t thought Blue would know his name. That was kind of sad, actually.

  “Hey, Blue,” Logan said, trying to sound equally casual.

  “We’re going to the library,” Zoe said. “I’ll explain—this—on the way.” She waved her hands at Logan.

  “Cool,” Blue said. “Man, you look cold. Want to borrow a jacket?”

  “Nah, I’m good,” Logan said. He adjusted his stance to look a bit tougher. Of course, Blue was standing there, dripping wet, in nothing but shorts. Boys could be so dopey when they were trying to be macho.

  “Yes, he does,” Zoe said. “He lost his jacket trying to save Nero from one of his temper tantrums. But hurry up. We only have half an hour before the library closes.”

  Blue jogged ahead of them to the house, and when he emerged, fully dressed, he handed Logan a dark-green hooded sweatshirt.

  “All right, thanks,” Logan said. He put it on while Zoe and Blue wheeled their bikes out of the garage. His brown eyes went even bigger when he saw the silver fire-retardant suits hanging on the walls between the golf carts and dragon harnesses.

  But his next question wasn’t about dragons. As he picked up his own bike in the trees outside the wall, he said to Blue, “So, do you live in the lake?”

  “Some of the time,” Blue said. “That’s where my dad is. The rest of the time I’m up at the house with my mom.”

  “Oh,” Logan said. “So they’re—”

  “Yeah. Divorced,” Blue said. “It sucks. But whatever.” He shrugged.

  “And now the whole colony won’t shut up about what a mistake it is for merfolk to marry humans,” Zoe said. Logan tilted his head curiously, and she guessed what he was thinking. “They’re not talking about us, dorkface. Blue’s like my brother. Gross. I want to strangle him, like, fifty times a day.”

  Besides, she would never do that to Jasmin, even if they weren’t speaking anymore.

  “Oh, but if it comes up at school,” she said, “everyone there thinks Blue and his mom rent an apartment in our house.”

  It was mostly downhill to the library. Usually Zoe loved the feeling of the wind flying through her hair, but out in front of the others she had no one to distract her from her worries about the griffin gate.

  Surely this couldn’t be her fault. She had locked it. She knew she had.

  But if that was true . . . then who had unlocked it?

  THIRTEEN

  Blue didn’t seem quite as stunned as everyone else by Logan’s ability to hear baby griffins.

  “That’s cool,” he said. The three of them were across the street from the library. The sun was nearly all the way down, and it was quickly getting cold and dark outside. As far as Logan could tell, they were waiting for Zoe to make a plan.

  “Mostly Squorp talks about food,” Logan said to Blue. “It’s not, like, deep conversation.”

  “Sounds useful, though. They get so mad when we don’t understand them.” He held out his arm to show Logan a bruise on his wrist. “The black one bit me a couple days ago when I gave her a fish to stop her yelling. Still not sure what she really wanted.”

  “Maybe treasure,” Logan joked.

  Blue’s eyes went thoughtful. “Actually, yeah, maybe,” he said.

  “Can’t their parents tell you what they’re saying?” Logan asked.

  “Nira’s too busy,” Blue said. “And Riff’s too frantic.”

  “Six cubs are a lot to handle,” Zoe said. “This is their first litter.” Her voice glowed with pride. “The Kahn Menagerie has the best griffin-breeding record in the world. Mom and Dad raised Riff’s litter and traded one of his brothers to another menagerie for Nira. We knew they’d be perfect together.”

  Logan remembered the sleepy, disgruntled white griffin and wondered if that was true. But he wasn’t about to question the best griffin-breeding record in the world.

  “So what do we do now?” he asked, nodding at the library.

  “We leave our bikes by the pizza place,” Zoe said. “That way the librarians won’t see them when they leave. Then we’ll hide in the library until it closes.” She checked her watch again. “Ten minutes. Hurry.”

  The pizza place was only a block away. As they leaned their bikes against the alley wall, Logan noticed that the restaurant was closed, which seemed weird for a Friday night. He tried to peer in through the dark window, but he couldn’t see anything. Except maybe—was that a puddle of tomato sauce on the floor?

  “Come on.” Zoe yanked on Blue’s sleeve and took off toward the library.

  Logan and Blue followed. Logan liked how Blue never rushed. He matched the taller boy’s pace as they strolled up the stairs into the library. Zoe had already vanished inside.

  “Hold up,” Blue said, stopping to inspect a notice on the bulletin board. Logan looked at it, too. It was about some rancher meeting to discuss a bunch of missing sheep. He glanced at Blue. What—

  “Okay, now,” Blue said. Logan realized that the lone librarian at the desk had bent down to empty the book drop. They were able to go by without being seen. Logan grinned. Slick, Blue.

  Blue took the stairs two at a time with his long legs. At the top he slowly pivoted, scanning the aisles of books, round wooden study tables, and armchairs tucked into dark corners. Logan did the same. All he saw was Zoe pacing nervously past the shelves, glancing along each one. There were a lot of walls and tall bookshelves, so it was impossible to see every part of the floor from anywhere. The few people left at the tables were packing up their bags and heading downstairs.

  “The library will be closing in five minutes,” said a voice over the PA system. “Please bring all materials to the front desk to check out.”

  “Why, hello there.” The school librarian emerged from one of the stacks, carrying a pile of books. Her lime-green skirt looked a bit less startling here, away from school. She smiled at them. “How nice to see some of my students at the library on a Friday night.”

  “Hey, Miss Sameera,” Blue said, shaking his hair out of his eyes. “Need help with those?” He reached for her books, but she took a quick step back.

  “No, no,” she said. “Nothing interesting here. Just a private project.” She gave an odd little laugh. Logan couldn’t be sure, but he thought she was deliberately holding the books so they couldn’t read the titles.

  Huh, he thought. Must be something really embarrassing.

  “See you on Monday,” she said brightly, and hurried off down the stairs with her skirt mirrors tinkling and flashing as she went.

  Curious, Logan leaned over the stairs to watch her check out. He couldn’t read the book titles from where he was, but one of them had a pair of rearing unicorns on the cover, and another one looked like it was about sea serpents.

  Weird.

  “Let’s hide,” Blue said, bringing Logan’s attention back to the griffin search. “Looks like Zoe already has.” He led Logan down one of the long aisles and along the back wall of windows to a pair of plain wooden doors. White letters on black labels said HEMINGWAYS on one door and BRONTËS on the other.

  “I don’t get it,” Logan said, reading the signs.

  “I didn’t either at first,” Blue said. “Zoe explained it. That one’s Men, like Ernest Hemingway, and that one’s Women, like the Brontë siste
rs. It’s a library joke.”

  Logan didn’t think it would be very funny if he’d accidentally walked into the girls’ bathroom because he’d never heard of the Brontës.

  They went through the “Hemingways” door and each hid in a stall. Logan was glad the doors went all the way to the ground so he didn’t have to stand on the toilet.

  “This is like that book,” he whispered. “Where the kids run away and stay in the Metropolitan Museum? Remember? They hid in the bathrooms every night from the security guard. After I read it, I made my mom take me to the Art Institute so I could figure out where I’d sleep if I was spending the night there.” He stopped. His mom had loved the book, too. She hadn’t looked at her Blackberry once that whole day.

  “When did your parents get divorced?” he asked to change the subject.

  “Pretty soon after I was born,” Blue’s voice said over the partition. “They’re not big fans of each other.”

  The bathroom door opened, and Logan shut his mouth quickly. He pressed his back against the wall. Please don’t check all the stalls, he prayed.

  “Anyone in here?” It sounded like one of the librarians, who spoke with a quiet midwestern accent. The lights flashed off and on a couple of times, and then went off. They were plunged into darkness as the door closed.

  Logan exhaled softly.

  “Now we wait a few minutes,” Blue whispered.

  Logan had a million more questions about the Menagerie, but he didn’t want to break the silence. So he just waited until finally he heard Blue step out of his stall and open the door.

  The library looked like a whole different place in the dark. Moonlight came through the windows, turning everything purple and silver. Long shadows crawled across the rug from the shelves and furniture, like puddles of melted night creatures.

  “I’ll go this way,” Blue said, pointing along one wall. “You go that way. We’ll run into each other on the other side of the building.”

  “We don’t have to find Zoe first?” Logan asked.

  “Don’t worry,” Blue said. “She’ll find us.”

  Logan started off along his wall, which was not the one with windows. The room got darker and darker as he went forward. His hands bumped into a doorknob on his right, but the door was locked. Administrative offices, maybe. He peered down each dark aisle, but it was hard to tell what was shadow and what might be griffin cub unless he walked up and down, so he started doing that, wishing he had a flashlight.

  He reached the far wall, where a bank of tall windows looked out on the front of the library. Here there was bright moonlight again. The street outside was quiet. Logan glanced at the sidewalk below.

  A shiver ran down his spine. Was there something . . . or someone . . . in the shadows of the trees?

  Logan edged slowly away from the windows. He didn’t think anyone could see in, but still, he had a strange, creeping feeling that someone was out there, just standing, staring toward the library.

  FOURTEEN

  Find 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?”