Free The Menagerie by Tui T. Sutherland Page B

drink?”
    â€œMe?” Logan said. “I’m okay.”
    â€œLet’s put a temporary delay on that,” said Mr. Kahn. Zoe looked oddly pleased at this answer. “Matthew and I and your mother will head to the bank. You get Blue and take Logan to the library. See if he can hear the griffin there. With luck we’ll get two more cubs back here before dinner.”
    Squorp poked his head out between his dad’s wings. Dinner? Fish! Want fish! Me, fish, me!
    For heaven’s sake, said Nira, opening her eyes. I’m trying to get my first decent sleep in four months. Could you all take this noisy conversation elsewhere? Especially you two. She clacked her beak at Riff and Squorp.
    Let’s go find you a fish, Riff said with dignity, carrying Squorp away. The cub twisted his neck around to look back at Logan.
    Good luck finding brothers and sisters! Come back soon! Bring cow!
    Mr. Kahn turned and strode out of the enclosure, leaving Logan and Zoe staring at each other.
    â€œDid he say dragon toothbrushes?” Logan asked.
    â€œIsn’t that lame?” Zoe dropped the pieces of her branch and stood up, dusting off her hands. “The SNAPA agents said we’re neglecting the dragons’ ‘dental hygiene.’ There’s no record of dragon toothbrushing anywhere in Kahn Menagerie history. They’re wild animals! Plus their teeth are in great shape from all the volcanic rocks they eat. I swear the agents are just hoping we’ll get our heads bitten off.”
    â€œWhat is SNAPA?” Logan asked, following her to the gate.
    â€œThe SuperNatural Animal Protection Agency,” Zoe said. “Government, top secret, in charge of all the menageries. We had a surprise inspection visit from them last Sunday, and they gave us a giant list of things to fix before they come back this Sunday. So this is basically the worst possible time to be dealing with runaway griffin cubs, too.”
    â€œWe’ll find them,” Logan said confidently. “I’ll help. Don’t worry.”
    Five missing griffin cubs in a small town like Xanadu.
    How hard could that be?

TWELVE
    Z oe wished Captain Fuzzbutt was out and about so she could hug him. That always made her feel better, but this was his exercise time with the yeti.
    Had she really left the gate unlocked? Was this all her fault?
    She glanced at Logan again. Part of her liked showing him around; it was fun to watch him quietly freak out about everything. But she knew it was dangerous for anyone to know about the Menagerie, and it made her nervous that her dad thought finding the griffins was a bigger problem.
    â€œSo where does Blue live?” Logan asked as they came out of the griffin enclosure. “You can use my cell if you need to call him.” He reached for his pocket and stopped. “Oh, no, sorry, I left it back with my bike.”
    â€œI don’t need a phone to call Blue,” Zoe said. She pulled the whalebone whistle out of her hip bag and blew into it.
    Logan winced, touching his ears. “You use a dog whistle to call Blue?”
    â€œIt’s not a dog whistle,” she said. “Or else you wouldn’t be able to hear it.” She crossed the lake circle road and paused at the edge of the water, her sneakers sinking into the sandy gravel. “And don’t say anything like that where Blue’s family can hear you. They will seriously drown you.”
    â€œAre you joking again?” Logan asked. He rubbed his arms nervously. “Are they, like, the Mob? Does the Mob have something to do with unicorns and griffins?” He paused. “Okay, if not, I am totally writing that movie.”
    Zoe noticed that his arms were covered in goose bumps. She’d forgotten he must be cold without his jacket. “They’re not the Mob,” she said. “Well, not the Mob. They’re kind of a mob. You’ll see.”
    A head poked out of the water suddenly a few