Imogen sped as we left the zoo. I didn't blame her for rushing, but watching the gates my Familiar was locked behind disappear into the distance hurt more than I cared to admit.
"I should warn you," Imogen said after a few minutes. "The Maples are a little... strange."
"How are they strange?"
She sighed. "In a way that's hard to describe. They might seem detached or uncaring, or maybe just distracted."
I thought about Olezhka stuck in his enclosure. "They'll help us though, right?"
"Yeah, definitely." Imogen tapped her fingers on the steering wheel nervously. "Definitely."
I did not find this answer particularly reassuring.
We eventually pulled up outside of a syrup farm about two hours north of the city. The woods around us were tightly packed and old, trees towering up like skyscr
