Traps and Specters (15 page)

“That's cheating!” Richie said. “They can't win like that!”

Mr. Darby rose from the bench, stepped up to Blizzard, and stroked the bear's head. He turned his smile to the scouts. “I'm afraid they can. The Descenders—they are very resourceful. They will always be tough to beat.”

“But—” Richie stammered. “The flag was like …
right there
!”

Mr. Darby said, “Closer than anyone expected, I assure you.”

As Sam folded his wings across his back, he wordlessly walked past the scouts and clapped hands with Tameron. Blizzard growled in bitterness.

“It's … not fair,” Richie added.

Hannah plucked the flag from the vase, walked up to the scouts, and tossed the flag to Richie. “Here. Something for those tears.”

Richie clenched the flag in his fist and shook it toward Hannah. “I got a
better
idea!”

Hannah smirked and smacked her gum. “Yeah?”

“Why don't I …” His eyes shifted back and forth. “How about I …”

The scouts watched Richie with hopeful expressions. Maybe he could find words that might ease the terrible sting of this moment.

“I …” A long pause. “Forget it. I can't think of a single witty thing to say. It's like someone parked a truck on my brain.”

Hannah smiled. “Maybe next time, kid.” She playfully punched his leg and walked off, adding, “But probably not.”

Ella leaned back toward Richie. “Thanks a lot, dude. I feel
way
cooler now.”

The Descenders joined Tank and Mr. Darby and then retracted their gear. As Tameron's armor spread apart and slipped away, his tail coiled back into his canvas pack.

“It still blows my mind,” Megan said as she watched the Descenders. “It's like they're superheroes.”

“And it's like we're super
zeroes,”
Ella groaned.

Tank and the Descenders walked off together. As Mr. Darby turned to leave, he waved his hand for the scouts to follow. “Come—we have something to show you.”

“Show us?” Richie muttered.

Noah glanced at his friend and shrugged his shoulders. “Guess we'll find out.”

“Don't we always?” Ella asked.

Blizzard plodded forward into the new unknown.

CHAPTER 23

N
ear the middle of the zoo, the group reached the Forest of Flight, a forty-feet-high birdhouse with a domed roof made of glass. Overhead, starlight sparkled on the clear, curved panes. As the Descenders pushed through the entrance, they held open the doors for the scouts, who were still perched high on Blizzard. All the scouts thought to duck except for Richie, who clunked his head on the doorway's metal frame.

The open exhibit allowed people to walk among freely flying birds. The air was scented with the earthy aroma of soil and tree bark. Trees and flowery plants helped fill the space, and waterfalls spilled down rocky walls, bursting into mist along the way. Birds flew overhead and wove among branches. A medley of sounds ricocheted off the hard walls—water splashing, streams rumbling, and birds chirping and squawking.

“This way, everyone!” Mr. Darby called as he headed down a misty path that ran beside a tall rock formation made of concrete.

As Blizzard rounded the turn, the scouts came upon an incredible sight. A crowd of animals was gathered around a series of picnic benches. Covered with decorative cloths, the tables held cakes and cookies and ice cream. Ribbons and pennants dangled from the heights, and helium balloons were tied to benches, beams, and branches. Birds pulled long, colorful streamers through the air. Tied between two trees, an overhead banner read, “Congratulations, scouts!”

Ella turned to Mr. Darby. “Uhhh … in case you haven't heard, we lost.”

“Only the lesser contest,” Mr. Darby said.

Ella scrunched up her face. “Huh?”

“You've been members of the Secret Society—Crossers—for a full year!”

With DeGraff moving on the Clarksville Zoo, Noah hardly thought it was a time for a celebration, and he told Mr. Darby so. The old man nodded in understanding, but said, “We must celebrate our triumphs—even more so in the face of such danger.”

“Makes sense to me,” Richie said as he eyed the treats on the tables. “Especially when there's cake involved.”

Mr. Darby continued, “Besides, the zoo is fully guarded tonight, and we must give our trust to others in the Secret Society—our success depends on it.”

Blizzard lowered his rump and the scouts climbed off. As they headed down the path, the Descenders stepped up to congratulate them.

“Nice,” Sam said to Noah, clapping him on the shoulder as Noah walked past.

“Good work, kid,” Tameron said.

Hannah popped a bubble and playfully pushed the side of his head.

When Noah reached Solana, she winked at him. Noah thought to wink back and nervously decided against it. Instead, a smile found his lips.

Just beyond the Descenders was Tank. As the scouts walked by the big man, he held his fist out to each one of them, saying, “All right … all right, now,” and the four friends took turns punching his knuckles.

Most of the animals were ones the scouts had adventured with in the Secret Zoo. Dozens of prairie dogs raced about, curiously sniffing at things in their erratic paths: the grass, the tree trunks, the posts of steel railings. Chickadees weaved through streamers and perched along the interior landscape. Hummingbirds zipped back and forth and hovered, their needlelike beaks probing at flowers. Among several otters was Louie, with whom Noah had shared a Wotter Tower slide a year ago. And Marlo was in attendance, perched on a jug of lemonade.

Noah felt something poke his shoulder and turned to find Podgy, his flippers pressed flat against his bulbous body. Noah reached out and patted the emperor penguin's large head.

“Come!” Mr. Darby said as he waved the scouts over to the picnic tables. “Please, let's have dessert.”

Their group stepped cautiously through the prairie dog coterie and took seats at the tables. From across one bench seat, a portly prairie dog scampered up to Richie. P-Dog.

“Hey, you,” Richie said. He scooped him up and set him on the tabletop so the other scouts could take turns scratching his head.

“Is he still hurt?” Noah asked no one in particular.

Ella shrugged her shoulders and not-so-gently poked his side. “Seems okay to me.”

Tank cut the cake, Hannah scooped ice cream, and Mr. Darby passed out the plates. The scouts dug in. As Richie crammed cake into his mouth, he smeared chocolate across his face like war paint. This was much to the distaste of Ella, who wrinkled her nose and asked if he'd be more comfortable with a bowl on the ground. The Descenders also found seats. Noah couldn't get over how strange it felt to see the teenagers eating cake and ice cream when, just minutes ago, they'd chased the scouts across the Secret Zoo in their magical forms. As they ate, Mr. Darby asked about the game, and the Crossers shared their stories, sometimes breaking into laughter.

As Ella served herself a second piece of cake, an unexpected visitor crawled onto the bench and took a seat beside her. Ko. The koala pointed her beady eyes and coal-black snout at Ella.

“What's up, Ko?” Ella said with a smile as she scratched the spot between the koala's round ears. Then she sliced off a piece of cake with her fork and poked it toward the animal. “Want some?”

Ko gave her fork a sniff, then wrinkled her nose and promptly pulled her head away.

“No worries,” Ella said. “I feel the same way about eucalyptus leaves.”

Solana was sitting on the opposite side of the table from Noah. He saw her high cheekbones, her dark eyes, her full lips. As he watched, Solana lifted her long hair off her shoulders and tossed it onto her back, revealing the skin of her neck like a secret. Her eyes suddenly shifted over to Noah, and she caught him staring at her. Noah quickly looked away, blushing.

After the cake was gone, the scouts left the table to spend time with their animal friends. Ella invited Ko to climb on her back, and the two of them broke off from the group to roam the exhibit, walking through streamers as they gazed around. Richie spent time with the prairie dogs, wrestling with them on the ground like a giant litter of puppies. Megan strolled through the trees, inviting hummingbirds and chickadees to perch on her fingers.

Noah played a version of tag with Louie that he only half understood. He'd chase the otter around until Louie decided he didn't want to be chased anymore, at which point he'd run after Noah. Marlo kept perched on Noah's shoulder the entire time.

When Noah chased Louie around a big boulder, he came upon Solana. She sat on a bench beside the winding walkway. Across from her was a concrete wall with holes that provided places for the birds to build nests—and to get to the Secret Zoo. When Solana saw him, he immediately stopped chasing Louie and straightened up. He suddenly felt like a fool—Solana had just caught him goofing around with an otter.

Solana said, “This is really the place that started it all for you, isn't it?”

“Huh?”

“The holes.” She tipped her head toward the wall. “The time when the birds came out and surrounded you. That was when this all started—for the scouts, I mean.”

Noah thought about this. “Yeah, I guess so. But how do you know about that?”

Solana grinned. “The Secret Zoo … it's really not such a big place. Word spreads pretty quick.”

With Marlo still on his shoulder, Noah stood in silence, feeling stupid and not understanding why. Solana glanced at him. Twice. Three times.

“Why don't you sit down?” she said at last, her stare fixed on the wall. “You're making me nervous just standing there.”

Noah looked around for a place to sit. The only vacant spot was the one next to Solana. Was she inviting him to sit beside her? So …
close
?

Solana glanced back again. “I don't bite,” she said. “Not often, anyway.”

Realizing how foolish he was acting, Noah rushed over and dropped down on the bench—a bit too firmly, however, as Solana shook, and Marlo chirped and ruffled his feathers in surprise.

“Oops,” Noah said. “Sorry.”

Solana smiled. “You talking to me or the bird?”

He didn't know what to say. He turned to her and smiled back.

Solana lifted her gaze to the top of Noah's head. “Where did you get that thing?”

“Huh?” Noah asked. “My … head?”

Solana's smile widened. “Your
hat
.”

“Oh,” Noah said. “The Secret Zoo. Arctic Town. The animals … they gave it to me.”

Solana continued to stare at the hat. Her silence made him uncomfortable.

Noah said, “Is there something wrong with it?”

Solana shook her head. “It's just kind of goofy. It makes you look like a little kid.”

The thought worried him. He could suddenly feel the hat on his head—its weight, the press of its poofy insulation, the dangle of its droopy earflaps. He'd never cared about what it looked like; he'd simply appreciated its warmth and comfort. Now he hated it. He wanted to rip it off his head and chuck it into a hole in the wall, sending it back to the Secret Zoo.