Simon Thorn and the Wolf's Den

by Aimee Carter

  So that was it. He might never see his uncle again—not if Orion had anything to say about it—and if they didn’t find his mother before the rats handed her over to the Alpha . . . “You can’t make me stay here.”

  “I do not wish to do so, but I must keep you safe. It is my highest priority.”

  “Your highest priority should be finding my mother.”

  “I am doing everything I can—”

  “That isn’t good enough.” The urge to lash out at Orion overwhelmed him, and he backed away toward the spiral staircase, the glass windows spinning around him. “If you don’t find her, I’ll—I’ll—”

  “You will what?” said Orion gently. “Put your life at risk by leaving? Destroy everything your mother has worked for by letting the Alpha kill you?”

  Simon said nothing. Instead he stormed to the staircase and down the winding steps, nearly tripping over his own feet. He didn’t care about what the Alpha would do to him. He didn’t care about the five kingdoms or their wars or whether Orion kept control over the bird kingdom. Somehow, some way, he would escape. He would track down the rats. And as soon as he got them to tell him where his mother was, he would save her. It didn’t matter if it put his life in danger. If he didn’t do something, she would die, and he would never see Darryl again. No matter what it took, no matter what it cost him, Simon refused to let that happen.

  6

  BIRDS OF PREY

  The spiral staircase let out into a corridor that, like the floor above, nature seemed to have overrun. Even though Simon was short for his age, he had to duck to avoid several low-hanging branches that grew out of the leafy walls, and the ceiling swirled with animated clouds just as the lobby of Sky Tower had. Compared to the openness of the level above, however, Simon found himself feeling claustrophobic in the maze of hallways.

  It didn’t matter. He wasn’t staying. Reaching into his pocket, he scooped Felix out. “We have to get out of here.”

  “And do what?” said Felix, cleaning his whiskers. “You have no idea where your mother is.”

  “But the rats do,” he said, and Felix let out an annoyed squeak.

  “I thought the idea was to survive this,” he said. “They’ll kill you.”

  Simon ducked around the corner, narrowly missing another branch. “You heard Orion—he’s practically given up on finding her. I have to do something. So if you have any brilliant ideas, now’s the time to speak up.” They turned another corner, and at last he spotted the elevator.

  “Simon?”

  Orion’s voice echoed down the hallway, and Simon froze. He sounded close, and as Simon listened, he could hear the flap of wings. He hastily tucked Felix back into his pocket, muffling his squeaky objections, and pressed the down button.

  Nothing happened.

  He pressed it again. Still nothing. Was the elevator out of service? He examined the wall beside the door. There was a slot next to the buttons for a keycard like the one the elevator attendant had used.

  Terrific. He was trapped. The rustle of leaves grew closer, and Simon swore he could feel a breeze on his face.

  There had to be another way out of here. He searched the hallway, opening various doors one by one, his heart pounding as Orion called his name, his voice growing closer with each passing moment. He couldn’t stay here. He couldn’t let Orion keep him imprisoned while the Alpha killed his mother. There had to be a way.

  Two large closets and a bathroom later, Simon at last opened a door to find a dingy stairwell. Fluorescent lights flickered above the concrete steps, and he swung his backpack over his shoulder as he closed the door behind him and then bolted down the stairway. Twice he tripped, but he caught himself before he barreled headfirst down to the landing below. After that he took the steps more cautiously, straining his ears for any sign that Orion was following him. But as far as Simon could tell, he was alone. It was almost too easy, but he couldn’t afford to think about that right now. He had to get out of there and find his mother—that was all that mattered.

  Forty floors later, he reached the ground level and peeked through the doorway. The elevators were only a few feet away, and beyond them, a security guard sat at the front desk. Simon looked around, but he didn’t see any other way out. Sneaking past the desk wouldn’t work; the guard would see him in the open lobby. That left him with only one choice.

  Gathering his courage, Simon walked toward the exit with as much confidence as he could muster. He was Orion’s grandson. That had to count for something, and if the guard asked—

  “Fifteen minutes. I expected better from you, Simon Thorn. You’re a disgrace to seasoned runaways everywhere.”

  Simon stopped. Lounging in a plush armchair near the door was Winter, book in hand. She didn’t bother looking up.

  “You can’t stop me,” he said. “I’m leaving.”

  “You see that guard?” she said, nodding to the tall man behind the desk, who watched them out of the corner of his eye. “And the doorman who looks like he wrestles bears for fun? They’re not going to let you set foot outside Sky Tower. Even if you did manage to make it past them, there are a hundred rats swarming the sidewalk outside. You won’t get to the end of the block.”

  Simon glanced through the floor-to-ceiling windows looking out onto the street. Just as Winter had said, the rats were back, and so were the pigeons. They weren’t fighting alone this time though—a swarm of robins and sparrows had joined them, doubling the bird kingdom’s numbers in their attempt to defend their territory. His throat went dry. There was no way he would be able to get past all of them.

  “There has to be another way out of here, one the rats don’t know about,” he said, his voice cracking with desperation.

  Winter shrugged and climbed to her feet. “Wait until you grow wings, and then fly away. The rats won’t be able to touch you.”

  “That could take years,” said Simon. “Please, Winter. If it was your mother, wouldn’t you—”

  “My mother’s dead, too.”

  Simon’s heart sank. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry. Be smart. You’re not going to get around the Alpha’s guards, and she’s been trying to end Orion’s line for ages. Even if Orion’s right and your mother’s still alive, the Alpha won’t give her back just because you asked nicely.”

  “I have to try. I can’t let my mother die if there’s anything I can do about it.”

  “And what if there isn’t?”

  Simon opened and shut his mouth. What then? “I don’t know, and I don’t want to know. I have to try, Winter. She’s my family. Would you sit here locked in a tower if she had taken Orion instead?”

  Now it was her turn to hesitate, and she looked out the window again. “There are only so many places in the city where the Alpha would keep her, and Orion’s already scouting them out. If he can’t save her—”

  “The Alpha has to know he’s going after her,” said Simon, his mind racing. “But she won’t expect me to try, too. She’ll be ready for him, but she won’t know I’m coming. It’s a long shot, but it’s something.” He took a deep, shuddering breath. “Please, Winter. I need your help getting out of here.”

  Several seconds passed in silence, and Simon exhaled sharply. Before he could say anything else, however, Winter whipped back around to face him.

  “Fine, but you have to listen to everything I say. No arguing, got it?”

  He nodded, relieved. “We do this your way.”

  “The rats outside are soldiers—they just do what they’re told, and they won’t know where your mother is,” she said, her green eyes steely. “But I know someone who will.”

  “Who?” he said, gripping the strap of his backpack.

  “The Rat King.” At the confused look that must have been on his face, she rolled her eyes and added, “He’s not a real king—not like Orion or the other rulers of the kingdoms. It’s just what you call it when . . .” She shook her head. “Anyway. He’s a joke, and he smells terrible, but he knows ev
erything that goes on in the city. If your mother’s still in Manhattan, he’ll be able to tell us where.”

  Simon could put up with a stench if it meant finding his mother. “Where is he?”

  “Rat Rock Boulder in Central Park. It’s sort of hard for him to get around, so he doesn’t go too far.” She eyed him. “How fast can you run?”

  “Pretty fast. Why?”

  “Because I’m going to kick the guard in the knee, and you’re going to make a break for it.”

  “You’re what?” said Simon, but she was already halfway to the desk. “Winter—Winter!”

  “You get only one chance, Simon,” she said, and before he could react, she did exactly as she’d said she would and kicked the unsuspecting guard. Hard.

  His cry of pain echoed through the lobby, and Simon darted forward. He could do this.

  He rushed the glass door and threw his whole body weight against it. Part of him expected resistance and pain, but the door flew open, and Simon spilled out onto the pavement.

  “Hey!” yelled the doorman, but Simon was already running. The rats had nearly taken over the sidewalk, but seemingly oblivious pedestrians had formed a path through the battle, and Simon jumped from one clear spot to the next, narrowly missing several tails.

  He managed to get halfway down the block before a rat cried out, “Simon Thorn!” His name rose from the horde in waves, and before he knew it, the rats began to converge on him. Several people made sounds of disgust, and a nearby tourist screamed, but the rats ignored them.

  Simon’s heart hammered. The rats were coming from every direction—even the street—and now that he was there, they seemed to be multiplying. The birds screeched as they flashed their talons and ripped at the rats’ fur, but in seconds, they were vastly outnumbered.

  “Simon!” cried another voice—Winter. She waded through the rats, kicking several aside. “Ew, ew, ew! This is disgusting.”

  “Get back inside!” he called as he stumbled forward, the rats’ sharp claws scratching his legs as they tried to climb up his jeans again. Simon grew heavier and heavier as more rats joined them, and he became dizzy with panic. This had been a terrible idea. He should’ve listened to Winter and stayed in Sky Tower, or at least waited until the rats vanished. This time, his uncle wasn’t here to save him, and if any more rats appeared—

  A shriek filled the air, and Simon looked up in time to see a flock of hawks and falcons diving toward them from the top of Sky Tower. Leading them was the one-eyed golden eagle—Orion.

  Before Simon could move, talons ripped the rats off his clothing, and more vicious screams echoed in his ears as the birds and rats clashed. The rodents were no match for the larger raptors, and within seconds, they began to scatter.

  “Come on, before they force us back inside!” Winter grabbed his elbow and tugged him forward, away from the tower and toward Central Park.

  “But—you really don’t have to come with me,” he said as they raced down the sidewalk.

  “Someone needs to make sure you don’t get eaten by a pack of hungry wolves. Now come on, before they catch us.”

  Simon didn’t need any more prompting. He ran as hard and as fast as he could, and to his surprise, she matched him. Together they raced through the city streets, past vendors selling hot dogs and ice cream, past groups of tourists staring upward, past countless men and women who protested sharply as they went hurtling by. They zigzagged around corners and through crosswalks, always heading west. By the time they reached the edge of Central Park, Simon’s lungs burned, and his legs shook beneath him.

  “Not bad,” said Winter, who despite looking as if she had never run anywhere in her life, had barely broken a sweat. They slowed to a fast walk as she led him down the sidewalk along a street that cut through the park. “Rat Rock isn’t far, and the flock won’t expect us to go there, not now. We should be able to get in and out.”

  “Unless the rat army is waiting for us,” said Simon breathlessly, his skin crawling with the memory of vermin climbing all over him.

  “If that happens, then I hope you figure out how to shift before they eat you,” she said, turning onto a path that led south.

  That was comforting. It took Simon a minute to catch his breath, but once he did, he peered at her curiously. “Have you shifted?”

  She stared straight ahead, but Simon could see her brow furrowing. “You heard Orion.”

  “And I also saw the look on your face when he said it.”

  “I should have by now, but I haven’t, all right?” she said sharply. “It’s a sore subject.”

  Simon wasn’t so sure he believed her, but he let it drop for now. “Do you know what my father shifted into?”

  Winter shrugged. “A wolf, I guess, like the rest of his family. The mammals don’t like Hybreds.”

  “Don’t like what?”

  “Hybreds. The five kingdoms don’t exactly encourage mingling, but sometimes it happens, and that’s the result. A Hybred.”

  She said “Hybred” as though it were a particularly bad curse word, and Simon blinked, still not understanding. She must have sensed his confusion, because she stopped suddenly and faced him, her expression pinched in annoyance.

  “Most of the time, Animalgams know which kingdom they belong to before they shift. If you have two birds for parents, that’s what you’re going to be. Two mammals, there you go. Two fish, two insects, two reptiles—you get the picture. But you, for instance—your mother is an eagle. Your father was a wolf. No one really knows which one you’re going to be. You’re the product of two kingdoms, and that makes you a Hybred.”

  “I don’t see how that’s a bad thing,” said Simon.

  “Do you like knowing where you don’t belong?” she said, and he shrugged.

  “Haven’t really thought about it much yet.”

  “Well, believe me, everyone else won’t like it. Especially when, out of all five kingdoms, you’re half bird, half mammal. It’s dangerous, and no matter what you are, someone will always remember that your mother’s a bird and your father’s a wolf.”

  As far as Simon saw it, it wouldn’t matter what his parents were. He didn’t plan on sticking around long enough for anyone to care. But before he could say anything, Felix nudged his way out of his pocket, his whiskers twitching. “That was a rather bumpy ride, wasn’t it?”

  Simon frowned. “Sorry. At least the rats are gone now. Here—it’ll be safer for you in my backpack.”

  He set the little mouse on his shoulder, but before Felix could reply, Winter shrieked and scrambled backward, straight into a bench. “You brought a rat?”

  “Excuse me?” said Felix, his whiskers twitching. “I am not a rat—”

  “He’s a mouse, and he won’t hurt anyone,” said Simon, glaring at her.

  “Didn’t you listen to anything Orion told you?” she said. “Mammals are ruthless. They’re all working for the Alpha, and they all want to kill you.”

  “Felix is my friend,” said Simon. “He doesn’t even know who the Alpha is.”

  “You have to dump him,” said Winter, her eyes wide and wild. “Now.”

  “I’m not going to dump him! He’d die,” said Simon.

  “If you want a pet, get a canary or something. Not a rodent.”

  “I already told you, he’s not a pet. He’s my fr—”

  “Either he goes or I go,” said Winter. “Which is it?”

  Simon crossed his arms over his chest. “Then I’ll just go to Rat Rock on my own, and you can explain to Orion why you helped me escape in the first place.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “You’re seriously as brainless as a sea monkey. You’re going to get us killed.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. But if we die, it won’t be Felix’s fault.”

  With a huff, Winter stormed off down the path, and Simon paused long enough to unzip his backpack for Felix.

  “You can stay in here,” he said, setting Felix on top of his socks. “The Rat King will never know you’re t
here.”

  Felix’s nose twitched indignantly. “I don’t trust her.”

  “Well, I do. Make sure to find a soft spot so you don’t get squished.”

  Simon zipped up his backpack and scrambled after Winter. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Felix won’t get us into trouble, I promise.”

  “You better be right.” She veered off the path and ducked through a thin line of trees. “When we get there, let me do the talking. And whatever you do, don’t stare.”

  “I’ve seen rats before,” said Simon, following her across a patch of wood chips.

  “Not like this, you—”

  “Who goes there?”

  An angry hiss filled the air, and Winter jumped. Simon automatically stepped in front of her and looked around. Rocks at least twelve feet high loomed around them, casting shadows across an open space that smelled faintly like sewage.

  From the depths of the boulders came a strange dark shape that looked like nothing Simon had ever seen before. It lurched across the ground in a zigzag pattern that seemingly had no direction at all, as if something were holding it back. The closer it got, the tighter Simon gripped the knife hanging from his belt, until at last it stepped into the afternoon sunlight.

  A dozen rats the size of small dogs inched toward them, their razor-sharp teeth bared and their fur matted and dirty. Finally Simon understood why they moved so slowly: their tails were tied together, making it impossible for them to separate.

  “Is that—?” said Simon.

  “Yeah,” said Winter with a gulp. “That’s the Rat King.”

  7

  THE RAT KING

  Simon knew it was rude to stare, but he couldn’t help it as the tangle of rats stopped a few feet away. He had never seen anything like it. “Which one’s the Rat King?” he whispered to Winter.

  “None of them. It’s how rats punish one another—by tying their tails together and mocking them,” she whispered back. “I told you, they’re a joke, even to their own kingdom.”