My biggest thanks are due to someone I haven’t met. For years I had only a vague sense of Jane Goodall’s awesomeness. I knew she’d been somewhere in Africa working with the chimpanzees, and that she’d helped a bunch of them. But then I read her memoirs, and her world swallowed me up.

Goodall’s writing is as observant and nuanced and elegant as the best fiction. What was most striking, though, was its breadth. She followed chimp families for decades. Kings and queens rose and fell at the hands of heroes and villains. Promising infants found greatness or died early, whether at the whims of nature or the schemes of conniving aunts. Her characters lived lives worthy of Shakespeare; only they were real, and they were apes.

I still owe immense gratitude to Claudine André and the staff of Lola Ya Bonobo in the Democratic Republic of Congo for hosting my visit to the “pygmy” chimpanzees, the bonobos. The chimps may have won me over far more than I expected, but bonobos will remain my first love.

I typically spend a quarter of my writing time drafting and three-quarters revising. I’d be blind to Threatened’s early rough patches without my contingent of savvy readers. Maggie Stiefvater: I may have played it cool, but I teared up when I realized you were really going to spend some of your talent on me. Justin Deabler, you’ve got one of the sharpest minds I’ve known. Marie Rutkoski, I was jealous of your Skyped-in brioche but grateful for your insights. Donna Freitas, same goes for you and your Manchego. My writer’s group, Jill Santopolo, Betsy Bird, and Marianna Baer: You da best.

Eric Zahler, my partner: My first gauge of a book is how late you keep the bedside light on. Thank you for helping me see that animals don’t need to talk or sing or wear hats or secretly be people inside to be worthy of our compassion. Thank you for helping me find my heart and cut through my excess. Thanks, too, for Chester, Ludovic, Little Bonobo, and Little Pook.

David Levithan, my editor: You may claim you’re not an animal person, but no one could tell it by the amount of attention and empathy you’ve given the chimpanzees of this book. I consider myself so lucky to have you in my corner, and I know I’m not alone: You might be the most thanked person in young adult literature. If this genre is experiencing a golden age, you’re its emperor. (The benevolent Augustus kind, not the icky Caligula kind.)

Scholastic Press is more of a bonobo culture than a chimpanzee one, I have to say; that is one strong alliance of powerful females! Lizette Serrano, Ellie Berger, Lori Benton, Stacy Lellos, Tracy van Straaten, Candace Greene, Emily Heddleson, Erin Black, Rachel Coun, Bess Braswell, Emily Morrow, Rachael Hicks, Jazan Higgins, Sue Flynn, Nikki Mutch, Chris Satterlund, Barbara Holloway, Terribeth Smith, and many more: Thank you. (John Mason, Alan Smagler, Charlie Young, and Antonio Gonzalez — being favored males among powerful females isn’t so bad, is it?) Kate Hurley, you are a champ. Whitney Lyle, your designs are museum-worthy. Becky Amsel, you are a miracle of a publicist, and with rocking glasses to boot.

Richard Pine, my agent: You are one stand-up guy, and way more bonobo than chimp. Thanks.

Thank you also to my mom, my first editor and a great writer, who tirelessly explains the difference between a monkey and an ape to the various residents of Clearwater, Florida.

And to the librarians and booksellers who have worked so hard to get good stories into the hands of young readers, thank you. We are the blacksmiths and you are the knights.