Krakens and Lies

by Tui T. Sutherland

  “I got a message from Jasmin five minutes ago,” she said. She held it out to Logan.

  Mom’s fre

  That was all it said.

  “I’m worried,” Zoe said. “Something happened in the middle of her sending this. I don’t know whether to text her back. What if her mom took her phone? Logan, what are we going to do?”

  He sat down beside her and awkwardly rubbed her shoulder. “Let’s think about this,” he said. “If they knew everyone was out, it must have been from their contact inside the Menagerie. Whoever has been sabotaging you.”

  “The mermaids,” Zoe said halfheartedly. “Maybe?”

  Or maybe someone else, Logan thought, not ready to put it into words yet.

  “Oh my God,” Blue said, bursting in the front door. “What happened? Zoe! Zoe, are you all right?”

  “They took Captain Fuzzbutt,” she said, tears spilling out of her eyes again.

  “Oh no,” he said. He sat down on the other side of her and put one arm around her. “Zoe, he’ll be all right. He made it all the way here from Siberia when he was a baby. He’s tough.”

  “Hey, Blue,” said Abigail. “You’ve grown like six inches since I saw you last.”

  “You found her!” Blue cried. “Hi, Abigail. I’m glad you’re okay.”

  “Me too,” she said. Logan’s mom got up suddenly and came over to them. “Zoe, let me see that picture on your phone again. The one in Russian.”

  Puzzled, Logan watched Zoe pull up a photo of a word in blocky dark letters, printed on the corner of stationery with other Russian words all over it.

  “I’ve seen this before,” Abigail said. “When I rescued the Captain from that cloning lab in Siberia. This is the same company.”

  “What?” Zoe said. “How? Jasmin said her dad just bought it . . .”

  “Which means he’s now officially Captain Fuzzbutt’s original owner,” Abigail said darkly. “I think I see where he’s going with this. Logan, I have to talk to your dad for a minute.” She got up and went into the kitchen, where Logan’s dad had gone to make tea for Miss Sameera, who still seemed a little woozy.

  “We have to figure out who’s working with the Sterlings,” Logan said. “They’ll know where Mr. Sterling is taking the mammoth, don’t you think?”

  “But how do we do that?” Zoe said. “Blue, do you know if any of the mermaids have left the Menagerie recently?”

  He shook his head slowly. “I’m not sure, but they usually don’t once it’s this cold out.”

  “Maybe we figure out the motive first,” Logan said. “I have a really strong feeling that it all comes back to Scratch. Everything else was sort of easy—cutting a hole for the griffins to escape, or tampering with the fire extinguisher that set Basil loose. Even getting the mermaids riled up enough to strike, if that’s connected.”

  “Yeah,” Blue agreed. “That wouldn’t take much effort.”

  “But the whole Pelly plan . . . making it look like she was dead and going to all the trouble of framing Scratch . . . why would someone do that?” Logan asked. “Why not just make the goose disappear, if they only wanted to cause trouble?”

  “Can we find out more about Scratch’s mom?” Blue said. “We know that Scratch’s sister went crazy. Maybe she did, too.”

  “Or maybe someone made it look like she did,” said Zoe. She wiped her eyes and stood up. “Let’s see if Melissa’s computer has any archives on Scratch’s family.”

  They stepped around the mess of destroyed pillows and overturned chairs and went into Melissa’s office, at the far end of the room.

  It was neat and orderly as usual. Nothing indicated where she had gone off to.

  “Do you know where your mom is?” Logan asked Blue, not quite as casually as he was trying to.

  Blue shrugged. “I haven’t heard from her today, but she’s probably doing something for SNAMHP. Or SNAPA. Most likely it involves forms.” He grinned at Logan and Logan tried to smile back.

  Something small moved in the corner of his eye, and Logan turned to see the deflector creeping quietly into the office behind them. Bob clambered onto a filing cabinet in the corner and plucked a chocolate kiss out of a bowl of candy on top of it. She sat down, unwrapping the silver foil with slender, clever fingers, and noticed Logan watching her.

  The huge dark eyes stared back at Logan for a long moment. Logan blinked first, then nodded, trying to convey It’s okay, I won’t say anything.

  Bob turned the chocolate between her hands thoughtfully for a minute, looking ready to spring away. But when Logan didn’t move, she slowly settled her paws in a yoga position and began to nibble contentedly on the kiss.

  She’s getting used to me, Logan thought.

  Zoe sat down at the computer and started clicking on files. “Lacewing,” she said. “That was his mom’s name, right? Oh, here.” She clicked on a folder labeled “DRAGONS” and then one inside that which said “SCRATCH.” About a hundred documents popped up, and she started scrolling through them.

  “There,” Logan said, leaning forward to point. “Parental History.”

  Zoe clicked, and a newspaper headline filled the screen.

  HIKERS KILLED BY FOREST FIRE OR MYSTERY ANIMAL?

  The bodies of a young couple were found in a remote corner of the Rocky Mountains today, several miles from the nearest hiking trail. They appear to have been mauled by some large beast, perhaps a grizzly bear. Identification could take weeks, as the bodies were also apparently caught in a forest fire and are charred beyond recognition.

  “What the . . .” Zoe murmured. She clicked on the next page, which turned out to be an internal SNAPA report on Scratch.

  “Father unknown,” she whispered, scanning through it. “Mother part of a trial program to allow hatching in the wild. A lot of dragon eggs don’t make it in captivity,” she said in an aside to Logan. “No one’s sure why.” She went back to reading. “Program canceled due to unfortunate fatal incident.” She stopped with a small gasp. “Oh! That’s so sad!”

  “What?” Blue asked, craning around Logan.

  “The animal in the woods—the one who killed those two hikers. That was Lacewing,” Zoe said. “She was watching over her eggs . . . it says here she testified that the hikers came too close and she thought they were a threat. Oh, those poor people. And poor Lacewing.”

  Logan didn’t want to imagine it, but the images filled his mind before he could stop them. A dragon in a secluded spot, curled up with her two eggs, thinking they were safe. Two hikers exploring the wild, coming around a bend, and stumbling over the nest by accident. The dragon, terrified and protective—the hikers, trying to escape but failing . . .

  “So SNAPA exterminated her?” Logan said in a hoarse voice. “For protecting her eggs?”

  Zoe pressed her eyes like she was trying to shove the tears back inside them. “It’s SNAPA policy for any creature who kills a human,” she said. “They have to, or the government might decide to exterminate all of the mythical creatures, just to be safe.” She sighed. “But that poor dragon. Scratch and Scritch must have been in those two eggs. No wonder he feels like the world is against him.”

  “And no wonder he chose invisibility for his glamour,” Logan pointed out. “It was childhood trauma.”

  “How is this related, though?” Blue asked. “What does this have to do with Scratch now, or everything that’s happening in the Menagerie?”

  Zoe leaned forward and started scrolling through the files again. There was a series of forms and reports related to Lacewing’s trial and extermination. And then another newspaper article:

  DECEASED HIKERS IDENTIFIED

  The hikers who were found dead in the woods three weeks ago have been identified as Brad and Missy Strong, a married couple from Albuquerque, New Mexico, who were known for their love of hiking off-trail and nature photography. Mystery still surrounds the incident, however, as they were apparently traveling with their only daughter, Brigid, age ten. No other bodies were found at
the scene, and there have been no lost children found matching her description. Emergency crews are searching the surrounding areas, but there is little chance a ten-year-old could have survived on her own for this long, even one known to be an accomplished hiker.

  The article went on, speculating about the bear and the forest fire, which was suspiciously confined to a small area.

  Zoe frowned at the screen. Without saying anything, she clicked to another file—a report on SNAPA’s own unsuccessful search for the missing Brigid. Lacewing claimed she hadn’t seen the girl with the two hikers, but in her state of panic she could easily have overlooked her. They searched for months . . . but never found any trace of her.

  “That’s it,” Logan said suddenly. Pieces were starting to fly together in his head.

  “What’s it?” Blue asked.

  “Brigid.” Logan pointed to the screen. His mind was racing. “That’s your saboteur. She’d be in her thirties now. Old enough to come looking for revenge on the family of the dragon who killed hers.”

  “But how?” Zoe asked.

  “You think she changed her name,” Blue said, catching on. “And it’s someone we know.”

  Logan hesitated, meeting Blue’s eyes. How could he say this out loud? How could he point the finger at someone who was such a part of the Menagerie family?

  How could he accuse Blue’s mom?

  “Miss Sameera?” Zoe guessed in a whisper. “Do you think she’s been playing us this whole time?”

  Logan slowly shook his head. “I—I think—”

  “Wait, there’s a picture,” Zoe said, leaning toward the computer. She clicked on an attachment under the article and a photo popped up of a smiling couple with a young, dark-haired girl. Brigid looked serious and a little worried, as if she sensed something terrible coming.

  Logan stared at the screen.

  Brigid did look familiar.

  But she didn’t look like Melissa.

  Zoe sucked in a sharp breath. “I’ve seen this photo before,” she said. She jumped to her feet, shoving the chair back from the desk in a violent clatter. “I know who Brigid is.”

  There was a knock at the office door, and the three of them turned to see Abigail standing there—with Agent Delia Dantes.

  TWENTY-THREE

  “It’s her!” Logan and Zoe cried at the same time, pointing at Agent Dantes.

  “What’s me?” she said with alarm. She took a step back, her gray eyes wide and shocked.

  “Mom, don’t let her go,” Logan said. “She’s the one who’s working with the Sterlings.”

  “What?” the SNAPA agent yelped.

  “Delia?” Abigail said. “What are they talking about?”

  “I don’t know, I—” Agent Dantes looked up at Logan’s mom for a tense, humming moment—and then turned and bolted across the room.

  Abigail shot after her, but Delia didn’t get far before she tripped over a pillow and went sprawling. Logan’s mom hauled her up and sat her firmly on one of the armchairs.

  “That was a silly thing to do,” she said, crossing her arms. “Now I know they’re right.”

  “Why—I didn’t—why would I—” Delia stammered.

  “What’s going on?” Logan’s dad asked, coming in from the kitchen. Miss Sameera was also watching in bewilderment from her position on the couch.

  “Wait,” Abigail said, hearing the rumble of the garage door. “Holly and Matthew are back. They’ll want to hear this, too.”

  Logan saw the desperate hope in Zoe’s eyes as she turned toward the door. A moment later, Zoe’s mom appeared. Her face was pale with worry, and it went even paler when she saw them all standing over the SNAPA agent.

  “No sign of Mrs. Sterling or Jasmin or anyone at their house,” she said. Zoe’s shoulders sagged. “They’ve all vanished—probably hiding until the election party tomorrow. What—what’s happening here?”

  “Delia is the one who’s been sabotaging us,” Zoe said fiercely. “She helped the griffin cubs escape. She stole Pelly. She framed Scratch.” Her hands were shaking, and Logan knew she was thinking of Captain Fuzzbutt and what he must be going through right now.

  Everything was starting to click. Logan ran through the sabotage in his head. Agent Dantes could have done all of it—she’d had access to everything during that first inspection. She could easily have tampered with Scratch’s anklet and his electric collar, and the fire extinguisher in the Reptile House. She could have talked to the unicorns about how they deserved their enclosure back; she almost certainly had told the mermaids they weren’t safe so close to the basilisk and dragons, and she’d probably planted the idea that she could get them moved to Hawaii. She also could have picked up golden goose feathers at another menagerie to use at the scene of Pelly’s “murder.”

  “The dragons wouldn’t have set off the alert for her,” he pointed out. “She knew she could climb in and steal Pelly, even if Scratch did stay on watch.”

  “And that’s why she wiped Miss Sameera’s memory so fast,” Zoe added. “I bet Sameera did see her, and the story about following a strange young man in a van was a lie Delia made up.”

  Another realization hit Logan. “And she’s probably responsible for what happened to Scritch, too. I bet if we check we’ll find out she was inspecting the Amazon menagerie when Scritch’s rampage happened.”

  Delia closed her eyes and shuddered, but didn’t deny it.

  “Why would she do any of that?” Mrs. Kahn asked, spreading her hands.

  They all looked at Delia, who buried her face in her hands.

  “It’s Brigid, isn’t it?” Zoe said. “You’re Brigid Strong.”

  Everyone looked confused except for Logan’s mom, who stared at Delia with dawning horror.

  Delia nodded and her shoulders began to shake. “No one’s called me that in so long,” she said, her voice muffled by her hands.

  “Were you there?” Abigail asked, dropping to a crouch beside Delia’s knees. She put one hand gently on the agent’s shoulder. “Did you see it happen?”

  “I see it every night,” Delia said in a cracked, hopeless voice. “Every night when I fall asleep, if I can sleep at all. Every night I see that dragon kill them.” She sat up suddenly, brushing away tears. Her face was lit with anger. “I figured it out, you know. That dragon had a tag in her ear, like the kind for tracking endangered birds. Someone knew it was out there, running wild, ready to kill people. And then I read the papers and saw the cover-up. I knew someone was protecting that dragon.” She said “dragon” the way most people would say “giant hissing cockroach.”

  “But how did you survive?” Zoe asked. “And how did you end up in SNAPA?”

  “I made it as far as I could through the woods and got picked up by a woman who was living in a cabin, off the grid,” Delia said. “She didn’t care where I came from, and she didn’t believe what I told her about the dragon, of course. But she took care of me for a while, until everyone had stopped looking for me. I learned to tell people I had amnesia, didn’t remember my parents, couldn’t remember where I came from. I wound up in the foster care system until I was able to get a scholarship to college.”

  She took a deep breath. “I read all the rumors. I wanted to find a way in, so I made myself into the perfect candidate. I majored in zoology and did my thesis on the potential link between the bones of extinct species and the tales of mythical creatures. I became an expert on wildlife protection, endangered animals, cryptozoology, anything I could think of that might make me the right person for a job with whoever was hiding dragons. And then it happened. SNAPA approached me, just as I’d planned.”

  “All of that,” Logan’s mom said, “your whole life, dedicated to getting your revenge?”

  Delia lifted one shoulder, staring at her hands. “My parents were worth it,” she said. “But once I was in, once I had access, I found out that the dragon I wanted was already dead.” She frowned, then glanced out at the Menagerie. “So I went looking for the dragons w
ho hatched from those eggs.”

  “Scratch and Scritch,” Logan said.

  “What did you do to Scritch?” Mrs. Kahn asked.

  Delia hunched forward. She looked brittle and easy to snap in two. “I gave her a shot of a kind of dragon PCP. Like a drug to make her go crazy.” She took another deep, shuddering breath. “But I didn’t know how bad it would be. I didn’t think she would . . . I didn’t mean for her to kill anyone. That’s why I came up with a new plan here,” she added quickly. “Something safer. I just had to make it look like the dragon had escaped and done something bad. And I put a sedative in the toothpaste so he couldn’t actually get free and hurt anybody.” She passed one hand over her eyes. “Of course, I thought you would use it.”

  “I’m guessing you’ve never tried to brush a dragon’s teeth,” Matthew interjected.

  Delia shuddered from head to toe as if she couldn’t imagine anything worse.

  “Did you also tamper with the fire extinguisher in the Reptile House? How is letting the most deadly creature in the world out of its enclosure a ‘safer’ plan?” Mrs. Kahn asked pointedly.

  Logan’s hands went to the scarab beetle under his shirt, his skin prickling at the reminder of how close to death he’d come.

  “That was an accident,” Delia said. “Honestly, I never meant for the basilisk to get free! I thought the damaged fire extinguisher would be up by Scratch’s cave and if everyone thought he’d set it off, it would just be extra ammunition for having him exterminated. In all the chaos of the trial, I forgot to check on where it ended up.”

  “So the night Pelly was stolen—” Logan said. “You weren’t monitoring Agent Runcible as a werewolf?”

  She shook her head. “He just thought I was. I drove him to the reserve, waited until midnight when he was definitely stuck in wolf form, and then came to get the goose.”

  Logan remembered the night he, Zoe, Blue, and Keiko had snuck into the woods to look for a werewolf—the night they’d seen Marco change into a rooster. There had been a car in the parking lot at the reserve that night. An empty car, where Delia should have been sitting, watching the tracking monitor to make sure Runcible stayed within the woods.