Simon Thorn and the Wolf's Den

by Aimee Carter

  They didn’t seem like a joke to Simon. Even if they couldn’t move well, they were still what nightmares were made of.

  “Answer us,” one of the rats demanded. It was the biggest of them all, with an abnormally thin face and greasy, matted gray fur. “Who are you?”

  “I—I’m Simon,” he said. “This is Winter.”

  “Simon,” murmured the rats surrounding them. “Winter.”

  “Trespassers,” said the leader, and the murmuring grew. “We do not allow trespassers.”

  “We don’t exactly want to be here, either,” said Winter, and Simon elbowed her in the side. She glared at him.

  “I’m looking for my mother,” said Simon, sounding much braver than he felt, with his insides quivering. “A bunch of rats kidnapped her earlier, and I need to know where she is. Her name’s Isabel Thorn.”

  “Isabel Thorn, Isabel Thorn, Isabel Thorn,” murmured the rats in unison. “We know everything, for a price.”

  “I’ll give you anything you want.”

  “What could you possibly offer us that we do not have already?” said the Rat King.

  Simon glanced around, searching for anything they might be interested in. He had only clothes, books, and his mother’s postcards in his backpack, and all he had of any value was the pocket watch his mother had given him. He would rather cut off his right hand than let them have that.

  “My knife,” he said suddenly, pulling out the dagger Darryl had given him. “I’ll give you my knife.”

  The leader scoffed. “What need have we of a human weapon?”

  His desperation grew. There had to be something. His gaze fell on the Rat King once more, and an idea formed in his mind. “I’ll untie you.”

  The hissing stopped. “What did you say?” said the leader.

  Simon tucked his knife back into his belt. “It can’t be easy to find food or run around. I bet you haven’t been down in the subway stations in forever.” He couldn’t imagine all of them managing the steps at once. “Tell me where my mother is, and I’ll untie you.”

  The rats glanced at each other. Simon heard a few whispered words, and at last the leader rose on his hind legs. “Untie us, and we will consider your offer.”

  “How do we know you won’t just run away?” said Winter.

  The leader rubbed his paws together. “You trust us.”

  She snorted. “Please. I’d trust a pigeon before trusting a rat.”

  Immediately the Rat King shivered, and several of them eyed the blue sky. Simon had an idea.

  “I’ll untie you. But if you run away—if any of you run away before you tell us where my mother is, then I’ll tell all the pigeons in New York to hunt you down. They’re my friends,” he added. “And if you want to ever see your subway tunnels again, you’ll keep your word. Got it?”

  The rats whispered to one another, and several squeaked nervously. “Fine,” said the leader at last. “Untie us, and we will tell you.”

  Simon knelt on the ground beside them. “Hold still,” he said as he pushed aside their matted fur as best he could. The tangle of tails was much worse than he expected, forming a hard lump the size of a baseball. He made a face and began to search for a starting point. He’d never been very good at knots, but at last he found the pitiful end of a tail.

  “Just hold on and stop squirming,” he said, and he slowly began to undo the twisted mass. Minutes passed, and a bead of sweat trickled down his cheek. The stench coming from the Rat King was so bad that Simon had to breathe through his mouth, but even then he could taste the rot.

  “What’s taking so long?” said Winter, glancing at the late afternoon sky. “If the flock finds us, we’re sitting ducks out here.”

  “Do you want to do this instead?” said Simon. He had half a tail free and thought he’d spotted the end of another, but his fingers were already coated with grime and other stuff he didn’t want to think about.

  Winter knelt beside him and made a face. “That’s disgusting.”

  The rats’ mutterings grew louder, and Simon glared at her. “They can hear you,” he said. She huffed and elbowed him in the side.

  “I don’t care. Move over.”

  “Be my guest,” said Simon, and he wiped his hands on a patch of grass. “It’s not as easy as it looks.”

  “Maybe not for you.” Winter took a deep breath and dived in, her nimble fingers somehow unknotting the tails with ease. Simon stared, stunned. By the time he opened his mouth to speak, she’d already freed three rats.

  “How are you—”

  “I’m not a clumsy baboon, that’s how.” Another two tails slipped out of the knot. “Most of it is just fur and rat droppings. They’re all clumped together, and the tails aren’t as tangled as you think they are.”

  Simon watched as, one by one, Winter freed the members of the Rat King. Most of the tails were bent at odd angles, but the rats didn’t seem to mind; like Felix so often did, they clutched their tails lovingly. Simon couldn’t blame them.

  “How long have you all been knotted up like this?” he said to the leader.

  “Many moons, many moons,” he said, his eyes shining as Winter finally freed him. He gingerly took his crinkled tail and ran his paws over the angles. “How I’ve missed you.”

  Winter wiped her hands on the ground and stood without touching her outfit. “There. Disgusting, but done. Where did you take Simon’s mother?”

  “It wasn’t us,” said the leader. “It was the rat army. We were not allowed without our tails.”

  “So where did they take her?” said Simon, his frustration growing.

  “To the safest place in the mammal kingdom,” said the rat. “Where only the strongest may go.”

  Beside him, Winter muttered a curse under her breath. “You mean—?”

  “Yes,” said the rat. “The zoo.”

  Winter let out a screech so loud that half the rats surrounding them bolted. “Of course. Of course. Out of all the places the Alpha could’ve taken her—that’s just perfect, isn’t it?”

  “At least we know where she is now,” said Simon, standing. He didn’t see what was so dangerous about a zoo, but before Winter could elaborate, the former leader of the Rat King limped toward them.

  “If you follow, you will surely perish,” he said, his beady eyes flashing. “Beware the Beast King, Simon Thorn.”

  “Is that the leader of one of the other kingdoms?” said Simon. The last thing they needed was someone else hunting them, too, but the rat disappeared into the scraggly brush without an answer. Simon frowned, turning back to Winter. “Please tell me you know what he was talking about.”

  Winter laughed humorlessly. “The Alpha took your mother to the Central Park Zoo.”

  “That’s not what I—” He stopped. It didn’t matter. “So let’s go get her.”

  “Have you ever even been to the Central Park Zoo?” she said, and Simon shrugged.

  “I’ve seen parts of it from the street. But—”

  “But your uncle never took you inside. Orion doesn’t let me go near the zoo, either,” she added. “You want to know why?”

  “The lions aren’t very friendly?”

  Winter gave him a withering look. “The Central Park Zoo is really a cover for the L.A.I.R.—the Leading Animalgam Institute for the Remarkable. It’s the academy where the Alpha trains her army. She handpicks the smartest and deadliest Animalgam kids from the mammal, insect, reptile, and underwater kingdoms, and because they’re all under her control, they can’t say no. The Alpha brainwashes them and turns them into killing machines. After five years, the students are sent back to their kingdoms, completely loyal to her. Anyone who’s anyone in the five kingdoms trained there. Except for us,” she said sourly. “She stopped letting birds attend when she took over.”

  “I still don’t understand why she would take my mother to a school,” he said.

  “There are other places she could have taken her—the Alpha owns property all over the city, even a few isla
nds north of here. I thought . . .” Winter trailed off and shook her head. “But of course the Alpha took her to the L.A.I.R. instead. It’s the safest place in all five kingdoms. If anyone tries to break in, the wolf packs will rip them to pieces before they can get anywhere near the students. Not even Orion’s flock can get very far.”

  “But tons of people go to the Central Park Zoo every day,” he said. “You can’t tell me it’s impossible to sneak in when all we have to do is buy a ticket.”

  “That’s because the L.A.I.R. is hidden. It’s—”

  A soft trill echoed through the air, and Winter whipped around, her eyes searching the sky. The branches above them rustled, and her face drained of all color. “Orion’s coming.”

  Simon didn’t stop to think. He took off eastward down the path, toward the Central Park Zoo. If Orion already knew they were here, then it wouldn’t be long before he and every bird in the city came after them.

  “Simon—no!” yelled Winter, chasing after him. “We can’t.”

  He didn’t reply. Maybe she couldn’t go to the zoo, but if there was a chance his mother was there, he had to take it. Even if it meant a pack of wolves would probably tear him apart.

  “You don’t understand—Orion will kill me if I let something happen to you.” Winter ran up beside him.

  “Then go back to Sky Tower and tell him you tried to make me come back, but I refused,” he said. “I’m going to the zoo.”

  Winter let out another strange sound, this one more a cross between a huff and a strangled curse. “If you go, I go, too.”

  “Then stop complaining and keep up.”

  He could practically feel her stare burning holes in the back of his head. “You’re going to get us both killed.”

  “The only person I’m going to get killed is me,” he said. “If you want to come, that’s on you.”

  “I can’t just let you go off on your own, now, can I?” she said. “You wouldn’t know the Academy from a hole in the ground.”

  Simon said nothing. She could pretend all she wanted that she was coming along for his safety, but he had seen how much Winter loved Orion, and he knew the truth: she would rather have faced a pack of wolves than return to Sky Tower without Simon.

  He ran through the park as fast as he could, and Winter darted along beside him. By now three hawks circled above them, no doubt signaling to Orion exactly where they were. “This way,” he said, climbing up a rock face that separated the zoo from the rest of the park.

  Winter stopped beside him, her long hair tangled around her face. “What are you doing?”

  “What does it look like I’m doing? Sneaking in the back.” Simon peered over the edge. A brick wall surrounded the empty zoo; it must have been after closing time. He looked around. Directly below them was a pond that sparkled in the waning sunlight. If he jumped, the splash might make enough noise to alert someone, but there was no other way to get in. And—he glanced at the hawks circling them—no time to try to find one.

  “You’re crazy,” said Winter. “There could be piranhas in there.”

  “In a pond in the middle of New York? I don’t think so.” But as Simon pulled off his backpack and eased over the edge, his legs dangling over the water, his heart pounded. What if Winter was right? What if there was something in there that would be more interested in eating him than helping him? Or what if he broke his leg in the fall?

  An eagle’s cry pierced the air. Orion had found them. No time to think—taking a deep breath, Simon let go of the wall and fell into the pond. The water was deeper than he expected, and for a moment his whole body was submerged, his feet touching the bottom. Something thin and slimy brushed his leg, and he immediately pushed back up.

  “It’s all right!” he called when he surfaced. Above him, the hawks continued to circle, now joined by the one-eyed eagle. As he climbed out of the pond and onto a wooden bridge, he expected them to soar down, but none of them made a move. He held out his arms. “Throw my backpack down!”

  Winter tossed it to him, muttering inaudibly and eyeing the birds. He caught his bag and immediately checked the nest of socks he’d made for Felix. “Are you all right?”

  Felix was trembling, and his whiskers twitched nervously, but he was in one piece. “I cannot believe you went into the zoo. Your uncle would be furious.”

  “He isn’t here right now,” said Simon. “Besides, we aren’t staying long.”

  Winter fell into the pond with a splash. Within seconds she surfaced, sputtering. “Are—you—kidding me?” she screeched. “There are eels in here!”

  “Eels aren’t going to kill you. And the flock isn’t following us in,” noted Simon, offering her a hand. The birds still circled overhead, but they made no move to land.

  “Nothing they can do now. We’re stuck.” She ignored Simon and climbed out on her own, dripping wet. He had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. With her oversize cardigan and long hair soaked, she looked more like a half-drowned cat than a human being. “Orion isn’t the one we have to worry about, anyway. If your rat—”

  “Mouse.”

  “—bloodthirsty mammal squeals on us, I’m turning him into a rat-kebob.”

  Felix snorted. Figuring it was best to keep them separated, Simon zipped his backpack shut. “You don’t need to be so mean to him, you know. He’s my friend. He’s not going to give us away.”

  “Please,” said Winter. “Rodents are about as dumb as they are smelly.”

  “How many rodents have you ever talked to? Because I’ve talked to plenty, and they might not be geniuses, but they’re smarter than pigeons.”

  “Everything’s smarter than pigeons. They’re an embarrassment to the kingdom. Birds are supposed to be noble, loyal, intelligent—”

  “Stuck-up . . .”

  Winter sniffed. “We fly high. It isn’t our fault everyone else is grounded.”

  Simon pulled off his sweatshirt and wrung it out. “Come on. Show me where the L.A.I.R. is so I can find my mother and we can get out of here.”

  “We’re going to die,” she grumbled as she started down the stone walkway. Simon took one last look at the circling birds before he followed her.

  As they walked, he kept an eye out for anything that seemed out of the ordinary. The only other time Simon had ever been to a zoo was on a class field trip last year, and that had been the Bronx Zoo, where he’d spent the day trying not to laugh as the monkeys and elephants and giraffes made fun of the guests. The Central Park Zoo was tiny in comparison, and with its hills and hidden pathways, it looked more like a normal section of the park than a place full of exotic animals. He wasn’t even sure how there was enough room to fit them all, let alone an entire academy.

  He spotted a looming brick building on the other side of the zoo, close to Fifth Avenue and Sky Tower. “Is that it?” he said, pointing.

  “No, that’s the Arsenal,” said Winter. “It’s where—”

  A vicious snarl cut through the evening air, and Simon clutched the strap of his backpack. “Who’s there?” he called.

  With a low chorus of growls, half a dozen wolves emerged from the trees on either side of them. Simon grabbed Winter’s hand, but before he could drag her down the path, a massive gray wolf blocked their way, and the others closed ranks around them.

  They were surrounded.

  8

  THE L.A.I.R.

  Simon stumbled backward, his heart racing. Behind him, Winter stood frozen, her face drained of color. The leader, the big gray wolf, slinked toward them. “What do you think you’re doing out here?” he growled. A string of saliva dangled from his sharp fangs.

  “We—we were just—walking around,” said Simon lamely.

  The wolf moved closer until he was only a few inches away, and Simon felt his hot breath on his face. “How many times have I told you not to wander into the zoo?” said the wolf in a deep, dangerous voice that sounded more human than animal.

  Simon blinked. The only wolf he’d ever seen was
Darryl, but this one was smaller, with blue eyes that didn’t match his uncle’s. “I don’t—”

  The wolf snarled. “Enough.” Behind Simon, Winter let out a squeak that sounded remarkably like one of Felix’s. “The flock is everywhere. Unless you want me to inform the Alpha of your little adventure, you and your friend will follow me without another word.”

  “Y-Yes, sir,” managed Simon. But instead of calming down, the wolf bristled, bearing his teeth once more.

  “What are you playing at, pup?” He moved closer a second time, sniffing Simon’s damp sweatshirt.

  “His scent, Malcolm,” said a female wolf behind them. “It isn’t right. Neither is the girl’s. They reek of rats.”

  “Excuse me?” said Winter, but the massive wolf in charge—Malcolm—snarled again, and she shut her mouth.

  He continued to sniff Simon, moving from his clothes to his hands to his backpack. Simon stood as still as he could, barely daring to breathe. Who did the wolves think he was?

  “Impossible,” said Malcolm at last, and he gnashed his teeth half an inch from Simon’s nose. “Who are you? What are you doing here?”

  A dozen thoughts ran through Simon’s head. What lie could he tell to get them out of this without becoming an evening doggie treat?

  “Your Beta asked you a question, pup,” growled the female wolf behind them, and she snapped at his heels. Winter shrieked, but another snarl ripped through the air, making the hair on the back of Simon’s neck stand up.

  “You will not touch him,” said Malcolm. “Not until he answers me. Who are you, boy? What game are you playing at?”

  Simon hesitated. If the pack knew his uncle, there was a possibility they would let them go. “My name’s Simon Thorn,” he said. “I’m here because—”

  “Thorn?” Malcolm’s ears stood straight in the air. “Of what pack?”

  “I don’t have a pack. I live on the Upper West Side with my uncle Darryl.”

  This name seemed to send a shock wave through the pack, with several growling and backing away. Malcolm’s ears flattened against his head.

  “I will warn you only once, boy. I do not show mercy. You will tell me the truth, or I will rip out your throat.”