“How do we avoid leaving footprints?” Logan wondered, looking at the sand.
“We’ll rake it again after we’re done,” Jasmin said, pointing to an odd-looking fork thing leaning up against the wall. “I’m sure we’ll do it wrong, and Mom will get all shouty, but you know what, somehow she’ll live.”
Logan stepped gingerly across the pristine sand and studied the statue. It looked fairly ordinary—huge, with an enormous flat pedestal at least four feet square, but not huge enough to hide a person inside, obviously. And it appeared to be solid stone all the way through. He tapped on it gently.
On the other side of it, Zoe and Jasmin were poking it much more vigorously, tugging on its earlobes and trying to find something that moved. Logan’s dad crouched to examine the base, while Mrs. Kahn glanced around the garden uncomfortably.
Logan stepped back to look at the statue from a distance again. He tried to imagine himself as a small whiskered dragon, looking at it. Why would it be such an important clue—a quarter of the dragon’s whole message?
“Can I see the sketch Matthew and Elsie made?” he asked Zoe.
She pulled out a folded-up piece of paper and passed it to him. The drawing did look quite a bit like the statue in front of him, except there were strange wavy lines coming off the left side of it.
“What are these?” he asked, showing them to Zoe.
“I don’t know, but Elsie was sure they were part of it,” Zoe said.
Jasmin leaned over to look at the drawing and giggled. “They look like those motion lines you see in a comic book,” she said. “You know? Like, ZOOM! When the character is running across the page. Except here it’s my giant stone Buddha zipping off.” She gave Logan a stern look. “If you tell anyone at school that I know anything about comic books, I will destroy you.”
“She’s kidding,” Zoe said.
“I am absolutely not,” Jasmin said.
“Maybe that’s it!” Logan jabbed the paper. “Maybe the whole statue moves!”
“Let’s try sliding it,” his dad suggested.
Jasmin squinted at him, then turned to Zoe. “Remind me why he’s here?” she whispered.
“I’ll tell you soon,” Zoe said. “I promise.” She glanced at Logan. He knew this must be hard for her. But all he could think about was his mom and how close she might be.
Logan, Zoe, and his dad lined up on the statue’s left side, found spots for their hands, and started to push.
The statue moved an inch. And then another inch. And then, suddenly, it slid smoothly to the side, revealing a trapdoor barely hidden under a thin layer of sand.
“YES!” Jasmin nearly shouted. “That is amazing! I can’t believe I’ve lived here my whole life and had no idea that was there.”
Logan’s heart was pounding. Was his mother below that trapdoor? What would they find when they opened it?
His dad reached down, twisted the handle, and pulled up.
A square shaft descended into darkness, with an iron ladder bolted to one side. They couldn’t see the bottom.
“Abigail?” Logan’s dad called suddenly into the hole. “Are you down there?”
There was no response from below. Logan felt like he was about to throw up; his whole stomach was a giant knot of nerves.
Jasmin tilted her head at Zoe. “A mythical creature named Abigail?” she said. “That’s totally weird. It’s like naming your dog John.”
Zoe started to stammer nervously.
“I’m going down there,” Logan said, tucking his scarf into his jacket.
“Obviously I am, too,” said his dad.
“I’ll get flashlights!” Jasmin said. She ran back to the house, her long black braids flying out behind her.
Logan’s dad didn’t wait. He swung himself onto the ladder first and started descending rapidly. Logan stepped onto the ladder next.
“How are we going to close this up behind us?” Zoe worried. “What if Jasmin’s parents come home and see the open hole in the yard?”
“We’ll close the trapdoor,” her mom said, “and hope they don’t notice that the Buddha has moved.”
“They shouldn’t be home until this afternoon,” Jasmin added, racing back up to them with three flashlights. “Last-minute campaign stuff. Even Jonathan has been drafted to, I don’t know, make phone calls or something. I’m supposed to meet Mom here after school to get dressed for like the millionth boring dinner.” She checked her watch. “Which gives us six hours. Come on, let’s go!”
Logan took the flashlight she handed down to him, turned it on, and clipped it to his belt loop with the carabiner on the end. The small light lit up the ladder a few steps below him and the shiny top of his dad’s head going down, but nothing below that.
He started to climb down.
And down.
And down.
He didn’t know how much time had passed when his dad called up, “I’ve reached the bottom!”
A few minutes later, his sneakers hit the floor and he stepped away from the ladder, unclipping the flashlight. Now they could see a tunnel stretching off into the distance. It looked like it had been blasted and carved and chipped out of the rock. A small railroad-type track stretched along the center of it.
“I think it’s an old mining tunnel,” his dad said softly.
Zoe, Jasmin, and Mrs. Kahn hopped down beside them.
“Whoa,” Jasmin whispered, shining her flashlight around. “This is crazy, Zoe.”
Logan’s dad set off down the tunnel, and they all followed without discussion.
“I thought the Menagerie was a huge secret,” Logan heard Jasmin whisper to Zoe. “Why do Logan and his dad know about it?”
“His mom works for the agency who oversees us,” Zoe whispered back. “She’s a Tracker—they go out and find mythical creatures in the wild and bring them back to places like the Menagerie, so we can take care of them and protect them.”
Jasmin whistled softly. “That sounds like the coolest job in the world.”
“Yeah, but it can also be pretty dangerous,” Zoe said. Her voice trailed off, and Logan knew she was thinking that Abigail had faced basilisks and dragons and manticores, but somehow Jasmin’s own parents had turned out to be the one danger she couldn’t overcome.
The tunnel went on for miles. Logan didn’t think he’d ever walked so far in his life, but he didn’t feel tired; he felt like he could walk three thousand miles if his mom was at the end of them.
After an hour and a half, they stopped for a rest.
“We should have brought snacks,” Jasmin said ruefully, stretching her legs like a ballerina warming up. She and Zoe had both taken off their hats and coats and were carrying them. Logan had taken off his coat but left his scarf on, for good luck and because it made his mom feel close by.
“And water,” said Zoe. “I didn’t realize there’d be such a hike involved.”
“They can’t be doing this every day,” Logan said, glancing at his dad.
“No, but if they had to, this way they could get in and out unseen,” his dad pointed out. “Anyone watching would think they were still at home the whole time.”
Like the private investigator, Logan thought.
“Still, they must have someone working with them,” Zoe said, running her hands through her hair again. “Jasmin, have you seen anyone from the Menagerie talking to your parents?”
Jasmin shook her head. “But I probably wouldn’t notice,” she said. “Grown-ups talking? Yawn, I’m out. They always have a million people coming around for campaign stuff anyhow.”
“And if it is one of the mermaids, you wouldn’t recognize them,” Zoe said. “They don’t usually leave the Menagerie, but they can anytime they want, as long as they don’t do anything weird to attract attention. We should make them sign out,” she said to her mom. “So we can keep track of them.”
“Great idea,” said her mom. “They’ll absolutely love that. And now seems like the perfect time to suggest it, too.”
Zoe sighed.
Jasmin copied her sigh. “Oh, my troubled life with all its mermaids and unicorns.”
“Shut up,” Zoe said, shoving her affectionately. “You spend a day trying to convince a mer-king that he isn’t actually ruler of the whole Menagerie and then get back to me on how lovely mermaids are.”
“I hope everything’s all right there,” Mrs. Kahn said, rubbing her eyes. “I know Matthew and Elsie can handle themselves . . . and Ruby’s there, too. . . .”
“That’s a minus, if you ask me,” Zoe pointed out. “Ruby is not going to add responsibility and thoughtful decision making to any situation.”
“Oh, but there’s Melissa,” Mrs. Kahn said. “She’s very responsible.”
“And Miss Sameera,” Zoe reminded her. “She’s very . . . enthusiastic.”
“Wait, what?” Jasmin said. “As in, our school librarian Miss Sameera?”
“Yes!” Zoe said. “Turns out she’s totally obsessed with unicorns and has literally spent her whole life trying to find them.”
“Then someone really needs to talk to her about her color choices,” Jasmin said. “Because if I saw her ensemble from last Monday coming at me through the woods, I’d absolutely run in the other direction.”
“Let’s keep going,” said Logan’s dad, who hadn’t even sat down while the others rested, but paced back and forth around the tunnel.
They walked for another hour before they finally saw daylight glowing up ahead of them. Logan was sort of startled by it; he realized he had expected to come across a cage or some kind of dungeon. Not a light at the end of the tunnel.
“Careful,” his dad said as they approached. The light was dazzling in their eyes after so long with just the dim flashlights. Cold air swept in along with it, and they all put on their coats and hats again.
They paused in the mouth of the tunnel, looking out over a rocky slope.
“What in the world?” Logan’s dad said, bewildered.
Below them was a town straight out of the Wild West. An empty corral stood at the end of a dusty street lined with ramshackle wooden structures. Saloon doors creaked in the wind. Hitching posts for horses stood empty next to the sheriff’s office and a post office. A watering hole connected to a small stream next to the corral. There was even a tumbleweed rolling slowly along between the buildings.
Nothing else moved. The place was deserted—a ghost town.
“Did we go back in time?” Logan asked. In a world with griffins and krakens, it kind of didn’t seem that unlikely.
“Oh my gosh,” Zoe said in awe. “It’s Wild Wild Xanadu.”
“Dad forbade me to call it that,” Jasmin said. “It’s Old Silverado in our house or no dinner for you. How totally weird of him to have a secret tunnel from our house to here. Although, actually, it’s kind of classic Dad.”
“This was Mr. Sterling’s original theme park idea,” Mrs. Kahn said to Logan’s dad. “An old ghost town, like from the mining days, where people could pretend they were cowboys. It was . . . not a success,” she finished politely.
“I didn’t realize it was still out here,” Zoe said.
“What else was he going to do with it?” Jasmin asked. “I guess it’s a good place to hide something, though. What are we looking for? A griffin? A hippocamp? A pegasus?”
“Not exactly,” Zoe said.
“Let’s split up and search,” Logan suggested.
They scrambled down the slope, past a few crooked wooden signs with arrows showing the way to A GENUINE OLDEN DAYS GOLD MINE! Logan’s dad pointed to the saloon and Logan nodded, watching him go.
But he knew the first place he wanted to check. He remembered the third image the dragon had sent.
Slowly he climbed the steps to the boardwalk in front of the sheriff’s office and jail. His heart was thundering like a creature trying to escape his chest. The old wooden door creaked when he pushed it open.
Inside, someone was lying on the cot behind bars in the Old West jail cell.
As Logan stepped closer, she sat up and saw him. A slow, familiar grin spread across her face.
“Well, howdy, pardner,” said Abigail Hardy.
TWENTY
“Mom!” Logan cried, running up to the bars. His mom got up and wrapped her hands around his.
“I had this weird feeling it would be you who found me,” she said. Her smile was as bright as the sun. Her normally short hair had grown out into a small Afro like a dark halo around her head, and she was wearing a dark-green sweater he’d never seen before.
“Dad’s here, too,” Logan said. “And Zoe, and Mrs. Kahn.”
“All my favorite people,” she said, but the way she was looking at him, it sounded like she meant You. You are my favorite person that has ever existed in all the world.
“I missed you.” Logan’s voice wavered. “Are you okay?”
“I’m absolutely fine,” she said. “I have a friend here who needs some help, though.” She nodded sideways at the gray blanket on the cot. Something small was moving underneath it.
“The Chinese dragon?” Logan asked.
She looked delighted and a little sad at the same time. “Did your dad tell you everything? About what I do and the Menagerie and the Kahns?”
“Sort of,” Logan said. “I found out a lot of it myself. By accident. There was a griffin cub under my bed—it’s a long story.”
“I was looking forward to showing it all to you,” she said wistfully, squeezing his hands. “I wanted to see the look on your face when you met Captain Fuzzbutt.”
“It was something like this,” Logan said, making a casual oh yeah, right, whatever, one of those expression.
His mother laughed. “I missed you so much,” she said.
Logan rattled the door and turned to search the walls. In the movies, there was always a useful ring of keys hanging just out of reach of the prisoner, but he couldn’t see anything like that here.
“My charming captors take them away with them,” his mom said, guessing what he was looking for. There was a small growling sound from the blanket.
“I’ll get Dad, hang on.” Logan ran outside and yelled, “She’s in here!”
His dad came barreling out of the saloon and tore across the street toward Logan. He took two steps inside the sheriff’s office, saw Abigail behind bars, ran over, and kicked the locked door so hard that it slammed open.
“Well, I could have done that,” Abigail said, putting her hands on her hips.
Logan’s dad was already inside the cell. He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her right off her feet, which was an accomplishment since they were almost the same height. Mom hugged him back for a long moment, and then she reached out and pulled Logan in to join them.
She didn’t leave us, Logan thought, closing his eyes. She does love us. She meant it when she told me she’d always come back.
The door banged open and Mrs. Kahn came in, followed by Zoe and Jasmin.
“Holly!” Logan’s mom said, spotting them over Logan’s shoulder. Logan and his dad let her go and she ran over to hug Mrs. Kahn. “I am so sorry I never showed up with Xiang. You must have been so disappointed in me.”
“Try worried,” said Mrs. Kahn. “We knew something must have happened.”
“Just a minor kidnapping,” Abigail said with a shrug. “Nothing awful.”
Jasmin had been staring at Logan’s mom with enormous confused eyes. “Wait,” she said now. “What?” She whirled around to look at Zoe. “Kidnapping?”
“We weren’t sure,” Zoe said quickly. “I didn’t want to freak you out.”
“Then you failed, Zoe Kahn,” Jasmin cried. “I am INCREDIBLY FREAKED OUT. Kidnapping, are you serious? Of a person? Of his mom?” She jabbed one finger toward Logan.
“Oh, it was accidental kidnapping, really,” said Abigail. “They just wanted Xiang. They thought I’d take the two million dollars and disappear, but I’m afraid they got the wrong Tracker. I wouldn’t leave him, so they were s
tuck with me.” She turned and whistled a low, shivery series of notes. The creature under the blanket rolled over with another growl.
“But couldn’t you have pretended to take the money?” Mrs. Kahn said. “And then come to us for help?”
“I couldn’t risk leaving Xiang—we might never have found him again. And he needed taking care of.” Logan’s mother crouched and whistled again.
A tiny, lionlike face poked out of the blanket. It had bushy white eyebrows, long curling whiskers, and small horns like antlers on the top of its head. A shaggy white lion’s mane surrounded its gentle face, and as it crept forward, Logan could see shimmering reddish-pink and gold scales all along its serpentine body. Sharp little talons dug into the mattress nervously.
“Oh,” Jasmin whispered, pressing her hands to her chest.
“It’s all right, Xiang, these people are all safe,” Abigail said quietly.
Xiang looked up at Logan, who tried to hold very still. With a small ripple of motion, the dragon threw aside the blanket and flowed off the bed, scurrying across the floor into Abigail’s arms.
“His pearl,” Mrs. Kahn breathed. She knelt down beside Logan’s mom. “Oh no. How did they know?”
Logan’s mom expertly held the dragon in a way where he looked comfortable and she could tilt him to show Mrs. Kahn his chin. “They must have done their research,” she said. “They took it first thing, before I could stop them. You see why I couldn’t leave.”
“Of course,” Mrs. Kahn said.
“I don’t,” said Logan’s dad.
Abigail brought the dragon over to show him and Logan. “Chinese dragons normally have a pearl here, fitted below his chin,” she said. She pointed to a small depression under the dragon’s jaw. “It’s the source of their power—with it, they can be any size, they can call down storms from the sky, they can walk on clouds, and they can bring luck and protection to their friends. Without it, they lose all their magic.”
Xiang made a sad cooing noise.
“It’s all right,” Abigail said gently. “I don’t need luck. I have a brilliant husband and son, see?”
Krakens and Lies Page 18