Because he’s a stinking liar, Zoe thought. Imagine pretending your little sister is sick just to hide the fact that you’re a total thief. What a jerk. She was tempted to tell Jasmin the whole story, but then the option of giving her kraken ink would definitely be off the table.
“So tell me about this Logan guy,” Jasmin said. “You totally like him, right?”
“I’ve only known him for, like, a week,” Zoe pointed out, feeling her face get warm.
“He doesn’t really like Keiko, does he?” Jasmin said. “I don’t get that vibe from him. I’m pretty sure he likes you.”
“He’s only known me for, like, a week,” Zoe protested. “And we’ve both had bigger things to think about. His mom is missing. One of our dragons was accused of murder. Someone is trying to destroy the Menagerie.” She hesitated. “Jasmin—”
“Let me guess,” Jasmin said, cutting her off. “One of your many problems is that my parents somehow know about your top secret unicorn sanctuary, and they’re planning something terrible that has to do with that map Logan found in Dad’s study.”
Zoe winced. “In a nutshell,” she said.
“That sounds like my parents,” Jasmin said with a sigh. “You say ‘endangered pandas’ and they say ‘oooh, we can make money on that.’ Plus I bet my mom is all up in arms about the experiments we should be doing to see if your animals have any magical healing properties.”
“There’s a branch of SNAPA for that,” Zoe said. “Strictly overseen to make sure the animals are always treated humanely, and that they have chosen to give their consent.”
“Oh,” Jasmin said, imitating her mother’s voice, “what a waste of time, asking a dragon its opinion about anything. Let’s just chop off its claws and see if they’re useful.”
Zoe shuddered and wrapped her arms around her knees.
“Sorry, Zo,” Jasmin said. She slid off the bed and put one arm around Zoe. “I was just kidding. I bet it feels awful. Listen, I promise we can stop them, okay? I don’t know what we can do, but if I can help, I’m in. I don’t want my dad selling tickets to ride this guy any more than you do.” Jasmin thumped the Captain’s side and he waved his trunk amiably at her.
“Really?” Zoe said. “You would do that? Help us to stop your own parents?”
“You know my parents,” Jasmin said. “I like them some of the time, but they’re all work work work and anytime I disagree with them, they just talk right over me like I’m not there. My dad’s so wrapped up in his campaign he hasn’t come to any of my dance recitals this year. If I were old enough to vote, I wouldn’t even vote for him on Tuesday.”
She stopped suddenly and her eyes got huge. “Oh no,” she whispered.
“What?” Zoe whispered back.
“You might have a problem,” Jasmin said. She stood up, tightened her ponytail, and cracked her knuckles nervously.
“Don’t torture me,” Zoe said.
“Okay.” Jasmin started pacing in the narrow space around Fuzzbutt and the beds. “Well, my mom and dad have been talking in cryptic circles about something for months. When will everything be ready, what’s the best strategy, this has to be done carefully, all that boring stuff I never listen to, right? So, last week I was doing my homework in the den and I heard Mom say to Dad something like ‘We’re all set for Election Day.’ And he said, ‘Cameras from every network, right?’ And she said, ‘Of course. All trained on you. You bring it out, and the entire country will have to believe you. There’ll be no covering this up.’ And he said, ‘Win or lose? They’ll still come for the speech?’ and she said, ‘Yes, but you’re going to win. And even if you don’t . . . we win anyway.’ And then they got all mushy about how great they each are, so I put in my headphones and turned up the sound.”
Zoe stared up at her.
“This is what they were talking about!” Jasmin said, throwing her hands out. “The Menagerie! Zoe, they’re going to expose it on Election Day. Do you know when that is? You live under a rock, so maybe not. It’s this Tuesday. Do you know what today is? Saturday. You have three days to do something, or it’s hello, mermaids, you’re on camera, say hi to the world.”
Zoe made a strangled sound and dropped her head into her hands. “I have to tell my parents,” she said. Maybe they really had to give kraken ink to the Sterlings, whether or not they knew something about Logan’s mom.
“What do you think they have?” Jasmin asked.
“What?” Zoe said.
“Mom mentioned bringing something out at the election-night party—at the Buffalo Bill Diner, I assume, where the cameras will be. Is there any chance they have one of your creatures? Or any way they might get one?”
Zoe felt her stomach drop even further. The Chinese dragon, she thought. If they did have Abigail, that meant they must have the Chinese dragon, too.
So they couldn’t give them kraken ink, or else what would happen to Abigail and the dragon?
But if they didn’t have Abigail . . . what if they were using Logan’s dad to steal something else?
Zoe’s phone vibrated—a text from her dad.
On our way home with Pelly. Who is in quite the wonderful mood. Batten down the hatches.
“Oh dear,” Zoe said with a sigh. She did not particularly want to deal with the world’s most passive-aggressive golden goose right now. But on the other hand, maybe that meant SNAPA had released Miss Sameera to them as well. Zoe was dying to sit the school librarian down and ask her a million questions—like who she followed to find Pelly. Whoever it was had to be the saboteur, surely. And if they caught him, they’d be able to use him to stop the Sterlings. Zoe was still hoping it wouldn’t turn out to be Logan’s dad.
“My parents are on their way,” Zoe said, scrambling to her feet. “You should go before they get here.”
“Or else with the awkward questions,” Jasmin said, nodding.
Or else with the kraken ink, Zoe thought. “Last chance for a delicious jackalope milk smoothie?”
“Ha-ha, NO,” Jasmin said. “I’m watching you, Zoe Kahn.” She hesitated, and then threw her arms around Zoe. “Are we really friends again? This isn’t a dream?”
“It’s real,” Zoe said, hugging her back. No matter what happened with the Sterlings, Zoe wasn’t going to let anyone tell her she couldn’t be friends with Jasmin again. “I’ll tell you the whole awful story sometime.”
“Sometime soon,” Jasmin said. They headed out of Zoe’s room and downstairs. Captain Fuzzbutt heaved himself up and tromped after them, making the entire house shake.
Blue looked up and smiled as they came into the kitchen. “Grilled cheese?” he said. “I’m putting seaweed in mine.” Marco was leaning on the island, wolfing down a sandwich already.
“Sorry, I have to get home,” Jasmin said.
“Oh.” Blue poked the plate of sandwiches with his spatula. “Right. Okay.”
She picked up the jacket she’d left on the chair and glanced around at everyone. “I wish I could stay. I didn’t even get to meet any dragons.”
“Next time,” Zoe promised.
Jasmin looked at Blue again. He gave her an awkward smile and went back to spreading butter on a slice of bread. “Okay. Bye.”
Zoe walked her to the door and gave her another hug. “Remember, don’t say anything to anybody,” Zoe said. “Especially your parents. Don’t let them know you were here, or that you talked to me or Blue, or—”
“ZOmygoodness,” Jasmin said. That was a phrase she’d made up long ago for whenever Zoe was worrying too much. Zoe hadn’t heard it in months, and it made her giggle even through her anxiety. Which was, of course, the point. “I’ll call you soon, okay?”
“Definitely,” Zoe said. She watched Jasmin walk away down the long drive and felt the weirdest combination of soaring happiness and bone-crushing dread.
She might have her best friend back. Maybe. She wasn’t entirely ready to believe it yet.
But the Sterlings were out there, planning whatever they were pla
nning, and if Jasmin was right, they needed to be stopped before Tuesday.
She went back into the kitchen and found Logan staring mournfully at the sandwiches and wearing what looked like about four long-sleeved shirts on top of each other. The top one was pumpkin orange, which was a nice color on him.
Thanks a lot, Jasmin in my brain.
“I don’t think I can eat,” Logan said. “The basilisk smell is stuck in my nose and it’s too awful.”
“You should try, though,” Zoe said. “Did you ask your dad if you can sleep over?”
“My phone is still drying out,” Logan said, pointing at the windowsill where his phone sat in a beam of pale sunshine.
“Your brother just radioed,” Blue informed Zoe. “Basil is contained. And Matthew and Mooncrusher found what looks like the remains of a fire extinguisher scattered from the Reptile House to about fifteen yards out. I guess it exploded.”
“Like on MythBusters,” Logan said.
“What?” Zoe asked.
“On MythBusters, they took the safety valve off a CO2 fire extinguisher and it blew up,” Logan explained.
“Wasn’t it in a fire, though?” Marco said.
“You’re right,” Logan said, seeming surprised Marco watched the show, too.
“And anyway, how could any of our fire extinguishers not have their safety valves?” Zoe said. “We literally replaced them all just last week on SNAPA’s insistence. Unless—”
“Unless what?” Marco said.
“Unless it was the saboteur,’” Logan finished for her. “We think someone’s been messing with the Menagerie.”
A rumbling sound echoed through the walls, and with her nerves as frayed as they were, it took Zoe a heart-stopping minute to realize it was just the garage door opening.
“That was quick,” she said. They’d gotten Jasmin out just in time. “Remember, let’s not mention Jasmin was here just yet. And, heads up, Pelly is back.”
The boys stayed in the kitchen while Zoe went out to the garage, where Zoe’s mom and dad were climbing out of the van. Ruby emerged after them and flounced into the house with a sullen look on her face. A squawky muttering was coming from the back of the van. Out in the driveway, Zoe saw the two SNAPA agents getting out of their car.
“Hi, Zoe,” Delia Dantes said tiredly as she came into the garage. Zoe wondered if any of her other SNAPA work was as crazy or messed up as this week at the Menagerie had been. The agent looked like she hadn’t slept in days, with dark rings under her pretty gray eyes. There was a small coffee stain on her white blouse and wrinkles in her tan linen pants.
Agent Runcible, by contrast, looked as perfectly pressed and impeccable as ever. And possibly even more unfriendly than usual, although that might be because Melissa Merevy had blackmailed him into letting the Menagerie stay open by threatening to reveal how many new-werewolf rules he’d broken lately. Otherwise he’d been planning to shut them down over any number of things, big (a missing golden goose, a dragon wandering around town eating sheep) or small (expired kennel cough vaccines for the hellhounds, not enough algae in the zaratan’s diet, etc.). But now he couldn’t.
So we’re safe from one thing, at least, Zoe thought.
“Where’s Miss Sameera?” she asked.
“We took her home,” Delia answered.
“Oh,” Zoe said. “We sort of promised she could see the unicorns. And I wanted to ask her some questions.”
“You’d better not,” Agent Runcible said sternly. “We gave her enough kraken ink to make the kraken itself forget it’s not just a squid. This time it had better work, since it clearly didn’t in Missouri.” He stalked past her, oblivious to her mouth dropping open.
“Wait,” Zoe cried. “You gave her kraken ink already? But what about all our questions?”
“We questioned her, don’t worry,” Delia said.
“But what if you asked her the wrong things?” Zoe said. “What if she knew something else that we need to know?”
“Zoe,” her dad said warningly, taking a clipboard from Runcible and signing the papers on it. “I’m sure the SNAPA agents know what they’re doing.”
I’m sure they DON’T, Zoe wanted to shout. How could they wipe Miss Sameera’s brain without even asking if the Kahns needed to talk to her first?
“Did you ask her who she followed?” Zoe demanded. “To find Pelly? Do you know who it was?”
“Someone she didn’t know,” Delia said. “A young man in a hooded sweatshirt. She didn’t get a good look at his face.”
“That’s it?” Zoe said. Could that be Jonathan? “But where—”
“Zoe, save it for later, all right?” her mother said.
We don’t HAVE until later, Zoe felt like screaming. But something in her mom’s tone made her stop asking questions. Maybe her parents had already gone through this. Maybe they knew something and would tell her after the agents left.
Mr. Kahn handed the papers back to Runcible and opened the rear door of the van. The enormous goose who laid the golden eggs slowly turned to glare at him. Zoe saw that the interior of the van had been packed with at least forty pillows to cushion Pelly’s ride.
“OOOOOOH good,” Pelly said in her quacky drawl. “We’re here. How wonderful.” She stood up and paced to the edge of the van, regarding each of them balefully. “Just where I was hoping to be. Oh yes, this is much better than a private garden with an adoring caretaker devoted to my needs above all others. I simply cannot wait to get back to that crowded birdcage and all my featherbrained companions. I do hope it’s as noisy as it was when I left.”
“When you were kidnapped, you mean,” Zoe’s mother pointed out.
Pelly eyed her with enormous disdain. “If anyone could possibly take the trouble to help me down, that would be so delightful. But really, don’t strain yourselves.”
Mr. Kahn stepped forward and lifted Pelly down to the ground with an audible “Oof!” The goose was as tall as Zoe and quite a bit wider, especially after a week of being pampered and fed anything she wanted by Miss Sameera. Pelly waddled over to the door that led into the Menagerie, holding her beak in the air.
“The paperwork’s in order,” Runcible said, stowing the clipboard in his briefcase. “We’ll just come along to check the goose’s nest one more time.”
Zoe’s parents only nodded, but Zoe could see the little sigh that her mother was repressing. Wasn’t SNAPA done with them yet?
Pelly paraded slowly through the grass toward the Aviary, turning her head left and right as though she were surveying her kingdom (and finding it quite disappointing). Shortly before they all reached the dome, she stopped and stared piercingly at the Kahns.
“Well, I must admit I’m mystified,” she said sniffily. “Where is it?”
Zoe’s mom and dad looked at each other. “Where is what?” her mom asked.
Pelly examined one of her wings as if she were really rather bored and not that interested in the answer. “My memorial, of course,” she said. “I mean, you all thought I was dead, so I’m sure you must have erected some kind of beautiful monument in my memory. A marble likeness of me, perhaps? Life-sized or twice my size, which did you choose? I would never say so myself, of course, but there are those who have observed that I would look simply gorgeous in marble. If it’s not too heavy, perhaps we could move it next to my nest so I can admire it from time to time. I mean, if it’s not too much trouble. Gazing at it might help just a tiny bit to get me through the trauma of my terrible ordeal.”
Zoe rolled her eyes. Her dad coughed.
“Um,” he said. “You know. Funny story. We actually hadn’t quite—gotten around to your memorial yet. Of course we would have,” he added quickly as Pelly turned her full glare on him. “But we were all so, uh—”
“Devastated,” Zoe’s mom chimed in. “So very, very devastated. We hadn’t gone through all the stages of grieving. You understand. We couldn’t commission a, um—beautiful marble statue—until we’d really accepted that you were gone.�
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“Mmm-hmm,” said the goose, clearly not mollified. “And how was my touching funeral? Who did the eulogy? I certainly hope someone sang ‘Amazing Grace.’ Not that dragon who thinks she can sing, though; far be it from me to judge anyone’s musical talent, but she quite obviously has none. Which poems did you read? I’m sure you all remembered my fondness for Robert Frost. Oh, I hope that phoenix wasn’t invited. He wouldn’t care if I was dead or alive and that color red would be entirely unsuitable for such a somber event. Did you videotape it?”
Has anyone ever videotaped a funeral? Zoe wondered.
“We . . . hadn’t gotten around to that, either,” Zoe’s dad admitted.
Pelly swelled up indignantly, ruffling all the feathers on her chest. “WELL,” she said. “INDEED. I SEE.”
“Sorry,” Zoe’s mom offered.
“NO, NO,” Pelly said ostentatiously. “Why should anyone bother to grieve MY death? I am ONLY a MERE GOOSE. There are a whole ELEVEN OTHER golden geese in the world; that makes me downright expendable, I suppose. Some would say my enchanting personality is irreplaceable, of course, but what do they know. Besides, I’m sure you would have found some other way to support this outrageously expensive operation IN NO TIME AT ALL.”
They were going to be hearing about this for weeks, Zoe realized. Possibly years.
Pelly huffed her way inside as Mr. Kahn opened the doors to the Aviary. She flung out her wings in the warm, damp air inside and honked loudly. One of the halcyons landed on a branch overhead and gave the Kahns a disappointed look, like, Did you have to bring her back?
“Oh, don’t bother with a welcoming committee!” Pelly cried at the birds twittering all around the dome. “I wouldn’t want you to trouble yourselves just because I’ve been to the brink of death and violently kidnapped and then brutally dragged back here. No reason to come see if I’m all right, no, no, please carry on flapping as if nothing has happened.”
When this failed to provoke any response from the other birds, Pelly fluffed her feathers again and stalked through the curtains of vines, toward her nest in the center of the Aviary dome.
Krakens and Lies Page 8