“Yes. Remember, Lenora, you are not alone in this fight, even if it will feel like that sometimes. You have allies, and you can rely on them to help you with the battles you are not yet ready to fight. Now, if I might ask a favor: Can you help out in Zoology? It’s just next door. A pocket shark and a bonsai tree have a bet to settle.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Lenora Leaps into Action

In the Zoology section, the pocket shark swam eager circles in its little tank while the bonsai tree looked on from its clay pot with breathless anticipation, or what passed for breathless anticipation, from something that neither looked nor breathed, exactly. Neither creature was much bigger than Lenora’s outstretched hand, but they were both full of personality.

“Sharks,” said Lenora, pointing to an open page in a book, “have been around for four hundred twenty million years. A very impressive number, I have to say.”

The shark splashed its water proudly.

“Sorry,” said Lenora to the bonsai. “But it says here”—she pointed to another large book open before her—“that Wattieza, the first tree, lived three hundred eighty-five million years ago.” The bonsai wilted with disappointment. “Sharks are definitely older than trees.”

The shark leapt from its tank, waving its fins in delight as the crestfallen bonsai’s branches drooped.

“No one likes a sore winner!” Lenora admonished the shark, who wasn’t listening. She sighed deeply, hoping the shark and the bonsai would both someday learn to take their losses and victories with more grace.

“Next!” Lenora called. She heard sniffling and tears. She looked around but didn’t see anyone. Then she peered over the edge of the Help Desk. There she saw a very small boy in a very blue sweater with very sad tears streaming down his cheeks. “Oh my!” said Lenora, quite concerned. “How may I help you?”

The little boy looked up tearily. “I lost my kitten,” he sniffed. “I had him in my arms and then he jumped out and ran away and his name is Mister Sparkles and—”

“Slow down, dear,” said Lenora. “Whyever did you bring a kitten to the library?”

“He likes books about mice and I was gonna let him pick out his favorite and maybe some books about fish, too, and—”

“All right,” interrupted Lenora. “A lost kitten is a serious matter, and we must begin the search right away. Never fear, however. We shall venture forth boldly and find Mister Sparkles.”

Lenora took the boy by the hand. Encouraged by Lenora’s confidence, he stopped crying. Together they searched up and down among the stacks. They looked high and low, then low and high, in front of and behind every shelf. They crawled underneath tables.

There was no sign whatsoever of Mister Sparkles, or any other stray kittens for that matter.

“Tuna,” said Lenora.

“What?” sniffed the boy. He was ready to resume crying.