Krakens and Lies

by Tui T. Sutherland

  “Amusing the idea,” Scratch said. “No, secret the furball friend of Firebella. Beloved of dragons. Decidedly not causer of trouble for Scratch. No need for furball the small on list the scribbly.”

  “But who is it?” Zoe asked. “Firebella has a secret furball friend? What ARE you talking about?”

  Scratch clamped his mouth shut and shook his head vigorously.

  “Oh dear,” Zoe sighed.

  “Put ‘furball the small’ for now,” Logan said, “and we’ll figure it out later.” He heard scrambling and puffing noises from the cliff path and turned to see Marco hastily scooting past Firebella, who ignored him.

  “Hey hey hey,” Marco said with a huge grin as he reached them. “Meet us at the dragons! What is up! How awesome is the world that I am now getting texts like that?”

  “I hope you deleted it,” Zoe said, frowning slightly. “In case anyone ever gets ahold of your phone by accident.”

  “Oh, we’re all doomed if that happens,” Marco said. “Or else whoever finds it is going to look at my photos and be like, ‘Um, is that a moose in his house? Why is that owl yelling at that squirrel? How many pictures of doughnuts can one guy take?’ I should have mentioned, by the way, that I will also accept payment in doughnuts, if pancakes are not available.”

  “I’m sure we can muster pancakes,” Zoe said, rubbing her temples again.

  “We can head over to the Aviary now, right?” Logan said.

  “I should at least try to brush Scratch’s teeth again,” Zoe sighed. “Everyone stand back.”

  “What?” Marco declared with glee. “That’s a dragon TOOTHBRUSH? That is MAD CRAZY AWESOME.”

  “Exceptionally not thrilled is Scratch,” the dragon pointed out. “Gorgeous and lovely the fearsome teeth as is.”

  “I know,” Zoe said. “But we do want to keep SNAPA happy, right? You especially should want to make them happy. Ahem.”

  Scratch sighed out a long stream of smoke.

  “And that’s the dragon toothpaste?” Marco guessed, pointing to the tube Logan had set down on a boulder. “Do dragons have mint-flavored toothpaste? Or is it, like, beef-flavored like Aidan’s dog’s toothpaste? Don’t say chicken-flavored, by the way, let’s all be sensitive here.”

  “I have no idea,” Zoe said, swinging the toothbrush around and propping it against the rock.

  “Let me help.” Marco sprang over to the tube and opened the top. “Hmmm,” he said, sniffing the contents. “Wow. It smells kind of like cheeseburgers. Or bacon. Can I taste it?”

  “Why would you want to do that?” Logan asked, amused, but Marco was already squeezing a glob onto the toothbrush and swiping a bit on one of his fingers.

  “Marco, you goof, we don’t know what’s in—” Zoe started to say.

  Marco stuck the toothpaste in his mouth.

  “Whoa, totally bacon,” he said. “Maybe even ba—”

  He stopped. His eyes rolled up in his head.

  And he collapsed to the ground.

  FIFTEEN

  “MURDER!” shrieked Scratch. “TOOTHPASTE OF DEATH!”

  “He’s not dead!” Zoe cried, feeling her heart burst into overdrive. Logan knelt beside Marco, checking his pulse. “Right? Logan? Tell me he’s not dead!”

  “He’s alive,” Logan said, “but what happened? What’s wrong with him?”

  “I don’t know!” Zoe said in a panic.

  “MURDEROUS MURDERY TOOTHPASTE! CONSPIRACY OF DOOM!” howled Scratch. He ran in a small circle, flapping his wings frantically. His invisibility glamour was fading parts of his body in and out.

  Zoe scrabbled her phone out of her pocket and called her dad.

  “Hey, Zoe,” her dad answered. “Just checking out the Reptile House. These repairs are not going to be cheap.”

  “Dad,” Zoe cried. “Something’s happened to Marco! We’re up by Scratch and Marco tasted the dragon toothpaste and now he’s collapsed and he’s not moving and I don’t know what to do!”

  “I’ll be right there,” her dad said.

  “Why so hating of Scratch is the world?” Scratch moaned, throwing himself down on the rocks and covering his head with his talons. “All the tragedies of the universe falling upon head of Scratch. Family exterminated! Accusing-face of honk-bird consumption! And now poison-bedecked toothpaste! Determined on death of Scratch is world!”

  “It’s not poison,” Zoe said, trying to calm herself down. “It’s probably just a sedative. A sedative isn’t terrible. Although why would there be a sedative in the toothpaste?”

  “Wait,” Logan said. He was trying to roll Marco into a more comfortable position, but he stopped and stared up at the dragon. “Scratch, your family was exterminated?”

  “Mother and sister both,” said the dragon with a sigh. “Tragic the life of Scratch.”

  “That is really sad,” Logan said, glancing at Zoe. “I didn’t know dragons were exterminated that often.”

  “They’re not!” Zoe said, puzzled. “I had no idea, Scratch. I thought SNAPA hardly ever exterminates dragons if they can help it. Two in one family has to be stratospherically rare.”

  “Nearly three,” Logan pointed out, nodding at Scratch.

  Zoe’s mouth fell open. “There’s no way that’s a coincidence!” she said.

  “As intoned Scratch long ago,” said the dragon. “CONSPIRACY.”

  Could he be right? Zoe didn’t know what to think. Why would anyone have it out for Scratch? He was dopey, but not a bad dragon. He’d been shipped here from another menagerie five years ago and he’d never gotten in any trouble until this sheep thing.

  “We’ll have to look it up. What were their names?” she asked Scratch.

  “Sister Scritch, mother Lacewing,” Scratch answered. “Scales now forever resting in the star-time.” He heaved an enormous sigh.

  “Here comes help,” Logan said, pointing down the mountain.

  Zoe’s dad was sprinting up toward them; some distance behind him, Matthew was leading Captain Fuzzbutt along the path. The mammoth kept stopping to eye the drop below him and Matthew had to keep nudging him forward.

  “Dad!” Zoe called.

  He stopped to give her a quick hug and then hurried to Marco’s side. “Tell me what happened.”

  Zoe explained again about the dragon toothpaste. “Is there something in it?” she asked her dad.

  “DEATH, such as for instance?” Scratch suggested.

  Her dad cautiously sniffed the tube. “Maybe SNAPA puts a sedative in to make it easier to brush their teeth without upsetting the dragons. I’m sure it’s something innocuous, but let’s get Marco back to the house and make sure he’s all right.”

  “Thanks for your help, Scratch,” Logan said.

  “Entirely right about sinister bristle-stick were we,” muttered Scratch, stomping back into his cave. “Never and also never and moresoever NEVER to be brushed shall be teeth of Scratch.”

  Logan helped Zoe’s dad sling Marco over his back to get him down the twisting path to where Firebella sat, scowling. Captain Fuzzbutt reached the black dragon’s level at the same time and stood there with a deeply anxious expression, twisting his trunk into worried loops.

  Together, Zoe, Matthew, Logan, and her dad were able to get Marco up on top of the mammoth so that he was flopped out like a sloth on the Captain’s shaggy brown back. Zoe took the mammoth’s trunk and led the way carefully back down the mountain, while the others stayed close around Marco to make sure he didn’t fall off.

  At the Reptile House, they bundled Marco off the mammoth and into the golf cart, and Zoe and Logan rode back to the house with him and her dad. Marco let out a few snores, but didn’t wake up at all. Zoe felt her phone buzzing but ignored it.

  Logan’s dad was standing outside the sliding doors, blinking at the Menagerie and rubbing his arms. He saw Mr. Kahn carrying Marco up to the house and his eyes widened in alarm.

  “Don’t worry,” Logan said quickly. “He’s just drugged. He got knocked out by some
thing in the dragon toothpaste.”

  “Oh, right,” said Mr. Wilde, raising his eyebrows. “Doesn’t sound worrying at all.”

  They tumbled Marco onto one of the couches in the living room and Zoe tucked a blanket over him.

  “I’ll call SNAPA,” her dad said. “Just to make sure whatever this is won’t do anything weird to humans, like give them a tail.” He hurried off into the kitchen.

  “I think he’s kidding,” Zoe said to Logan’s startled expression. Her phone vibrated again and she pulled it out. “Oh, it’s Jasmin! Hang on a minute.”

  She answered the phone as she stepped outside. “Hi!”

  “Hey, Zo!” Jasmin sang. “I have been totally snooping, it’s excellent. Everyone is at church, so now I’m in Dad’s study. And I have shocking news to report. Did you know that grown-up papers are INSANELY BORING?”

  “Don’t get caught, Jasmin,” Zoe said anxiously.

  “Oh, they won’t be back for ages,” Jasmin said. “Seriously, Zoe, all I can find from the last six months is campaign stuff and this one new company he bought. K-N-O-H? Maybe it’s Russian. The N looks all squiggly on one end, you know, like that Russian kind of N? I’ll take a photo and send it to you.”

  “Doesn’t seem familiar,” Zoe said as her phone buzzed with the incoming photo. “Jasmin—” She hesitated. How could she ask her best friend if her parents might have her other best friend’s mom hidden away someplace? By the way, hypothetically, if your parents were kidnappers, where might they keep a famous Tracker and a small dragon?

  “I wish I could invite you over tonight,” Jasmin said. “My parents are having one of their massively boring dinner parties for big donors. I figured I’d lock myself in my room and watch Frozen like eight times in a row. Want to sneak in and join me?”

  “That sounds like the most fun terrible idea ever,” Zoe said with a grin. “Hey, listen, if your parents do have a, um, mythical creature to show to the cameras on Tuesday, where might they be keeping it? Do you have any idea? Could it be in your house somewhere?”

  “No way,” Jasmin said. “The cleaning people scrub every corner of this place from top to bottom once a week. Maybe our new summer cabin, the one on the lake? We haven’t been out there since August.”

  “If it’s the creature I’m thinking of,” Zoe said, “then they’ve had it since the beginning of May. Maybe since your skiing trip? Do you remember that?”

  “To Vail?” Jasmin asked. “You mean our skiing trip that was supposed to be all about family bonding and tradition, except Mom spent the whole time on her cell phone and Dad left early to do campaign stuff? I do remember that, yes, unfortunately.”

  Zoe was silent for a moment, her mind racing. Mr. Sterling had left the ski resort early? Did Mr. Wilde’s private investigator know about that? Had Jasmin’s dad snuck back here to kidnap Abigail?

  “Well, there definitely weren’t any weird-looking creatures at the cabin this summer,” Jasmin said. “Sorry, I’ll keep thinking about it.”

  “Thanks,” Zoe said. Summer cabin on the lake . . . could that be where Pelly was taken? “Do you have any pictures of your cabin? Can you send me one?” Maybe Pelly would recognize it.

  “Um . . . sure,” Jasmin said. “Give me a few minutes. Oof, that is not a flattering campaign photo, Dad.”

  “I don’t think you should be in his office,” Zoe said nervously.

  “Here’s what I want to know,” Jasmin said, clearly ignoring her. Zoe could hear papers rustling on the other end of the phone. “Why hasn’t Jonathan gone back to college yet? He’s been here, like, over a week, and he’s obviously not leaving today because his stuff is still scattered in every room in the house, and P.S., why HE isn’t getting yelled at for that is ANOTHER mystery. Isn’t he missing classes? He’s so lame, maybe it doesn’t make a difference.”

  “He’s probably sticking around for the big reveal on election night,” Zoe said.

  “WHAT?” Jasmin said. “Jonathan is in on it, too? My family is so totally sinister.”

  Oh, Jasmin, Zoe thought. I’m so worried they are, and I don’t know how to protect you.

  “Whoops, that’s Cadence on the other line,” said Jasmin. “She wants to rehash the whole party, which, like, whatever, it wasn’t even that fun after Blue left. Poor Cadence. She’s no substitute for you, Zoe.”

  “No one’s ever been a replacement for you, either,” Zoe said, holding the phone tighter.

  “But I should take this anyhow. Talk to you soon, okay?”

  “Okay.” Zoe stared at her screen for a minute after she hung up, wishing she could run over to Jasmin’s house and check on her right now.

  Her mom slid open the doors and leaned out. “Hey, kiddo. Up for a pancake?”

  “Mom,” Zoe said.

  “No lectures,” her mom said, waving a spatula at her. “I know we’re in the middle of yet another world-ending epic crisis, but we’ll have a better chance of solving it on happy stomachs. Agreed?”

  Zoe sighed and followed her mother back to the kitchen, past Logan and his dad watching something on Logan’s phone. Blueberries were scattered all over the counter, some of them half-buried in little mounds of spilled flour. The air smelled like maple syrup and melted butter. Zoe began collecting silverware and napkins for the big table.

  “Morning,” Blue said sleepily, wandering through.

  “Nice of you to join us,” Zoe said. “So far today we’ve interrogated Scratch, added mermaids to our sabotage suspect list, discovered there was something wonky in the dragon toothpaste, and carried Marco down the mountain on a mammoth because he tasted it and got knocked out. He’s on the sofa, by the way.”

  “Cool,” Blue said, propping himself against the counter. “Can I have whipped cream on my pancakes?”

  “Mermaids, Blue!” Zoe said, banging forks and cups around. “Mermaids were poking around Scratch’s chains the day they broke! They could totally be the ones sabotaging the Menagerie!”

  “That seems pointless and unlikely,” Blue observed calmly. “They could do that just by going on strike, the way they are now.” He tipped his head toward the window. A number of merfolk were patrolling the lake again with their signs, splashing furiously up and down.

  “Boy, I hope Matthew’s friend is here by noon,” Zoe said, swiping one hand through her hair.

  Logan came into the kitchen and exchanged casual boy nods and grunts with Blue. He went over to the cabinet and got down two glasses. Zoe liked that he knew where they were; she liked that he felt like a natural part of her home now.

  “Oh!” she said, remembering. “Mom! I have a question for you.”

  “Oh dear, yes?” said her mother.

  “Scratch told us his mother and sister were both exterminated,” Zoe said. “Isn’t that totally weird? I didn’t even realize he had a sister. What are the chances they’d both have to be exterminated—and that Scratch nearly was, too?”

  Logan put down the water pitcher to listen. Her mother studied her with a puzzled frown. The pancakes on the griddle were starting to bubble around the edges, but she didn’t notice.

  “That is odd,” Mom said slowly. “I knew about what happened to his sister . . . but his mother, too? How very strange.”

  “What happened to his sister?” Logan asked. “He said her name was Scritch.”

  Zoe’s mother turned back to the pancakes. “I didn’t want to worry you, Zoe,” she said.

  “I’m already worried!” Zoe said. “All the time! Just tell me everything!”

  “Okay,” her mom said. “Scritch was the dragon at the Amazon menagerie.”

  It took a moment before everything that meant hit Zoe. “The one who went crazy and killed someone?” she said with a gasp. “That was why they closed the place down, wasn’t it?”

  “Right,” said her mom. “Your father and I—well, we thought Scratch wasn’t that kind of dragon, but I must admit we were concerned, briefly, after what happened to Pelly. We thought perhaps he had gon
e bad like his sister.”

  “Does anyone know why she went crazy?” Logan asked.

  Zoe’s mother shook her head. “There was no chance to talk with her or find out what set her off. She was on a rampage and had to be stopped . . .” Her voice trailed off, and she swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand.

  Zoe sometimes forgot how much her mother loved all the animals. Mom had devoted her whole life to protecting and caring for mythical creatures. Although she hid her worries better, she must be just as anxious and heartbroken as Zoe was.

  Zoe wrapped her arms around her mother from behind and gave her a hug. “It’ll be all right, Mom,” she said, trying to convince herself, too. “You’ll see. SNAPA will help us stop the Sterlings, I know they will.”

  Zoe’s mom turned and hugged her back.

  The doorbell rang.

  “Whoa, again?” Blue said. “That’s just weird. I can’t say I’m a big fan of this doorbell thing.”

  “I’LL GET IT!” Matthew bellowed, charging out of the living room and nearly running Logan over. “NO ONE ELSE TOUCH THAT DOOR!”

  “Ooooooooooooooooooooh,” Zoe said. “It’s Matthew’s mystery Tracker camp girlfriend! The one who can mysteriously help with mermaid things! Quick, Mom, think of something wildly embarrassing to say.”

  “Oh, I’m sure it’ll come naturally,” her mom said with a grin.

  Matthew skidded into the front hall, shot a stern look at the faces peeking out of the kitchen at him, smoothed down his hair, and opened the door.

  It was not a mystery friend from Tracker camp.

  It was Miss Sameera, the school librarian. The one whose mythical creature memories had been entirely wiped the day before.

  “Hello!” she said brightly, beaming from ear to ear. “I’m here to see the unicorns!”

  SIXTEEN

  “Holy smokes,” Matthew said.

  Logan glanced at Zoe, but she looked as flabbergasted as he was. In fact, everyone looked as though they’d been smacked in the face with a mapinguari.

  “Do I smell pancakes?” Miss Sameera sailed past Matthew, shrugging off her squashy neon pink coat to reveal a resplendently bright lime-green dress covered in yellow sunbursts. Gold tassels draped from the wrists and the hem where it brushed her toes. Her normally disheveled dark hair was smoothed back into a twisted updo. She noticed Matthew staring and twirled around, holding out her skirt. “Oh, yes, I dressed up! For the unicorns.” She clasped her hands together with a dreamy sigh and then wafted into the kitchen.