The Hero and the Hunter

“Yes, what you’ve heard is true. Gabe left the zoo.”

“Professor! What did you do?”

“Me? Nothing Madame P., I assure—”

“I told you to promote him.”

“It was too soon.”

“Well, where has he run off to?”

“I don’t know. But fear not! I’m sure we’ll recover him s—”

 

“Professor M, Professor M!”

I am aware Gabe has left the zoo.”

“No, that I already knew.”

“Then what is it?”

“Gabe’s gone—gone to—”

“Out with it, Ajax!”

He’s gone to see the Great Bane.”

“Sphinx tits!”

 

Gabe watched the butlers bring out silver trays of fresh faun, peppered phoenix, whisked kraken bisque, and wedges of grilled cheese. He was hungry, to be sure, and would kill for some bisque, but the thought of ladling lumps of sentient creatures into his mouth made Gabe’s gut pitch.

 

On the other side of the table sat Ralph the Great Bane. The gargantuan man was digging out a dragon’s scale from between in his teeth, going on about “that featherbrained Professor M” and his “frivolous” zoo. When he was through, he inquired if Madame P. was still putting up with “that brutish rat” or if she had resumed her quest to manufacture an elixir for everlasting life. Oh, and did Ajax tame that manticore?

 

Gabe remained silent, soaking in the room. The walls were crammed with kraken skulls and phoenix feathers, yeti claws and roc beaks, centaur hooves and satyr pelts. Cedar plaques sported stuffed hydra heads—seven in all. Ashes of imps and gnomes, ghost-green basilisk venom, and mysterious eggs were sealed in jars.

 

“So then,” the Great Bane boomed, “why have you come?”

 

“Because,” Gabe paused, taking one last look at the room. “Because it seems that without you, the zoo might be doomed.”

 

To be continued.