Simon Thorn and the Wolf's Den

by Aimee Carter

  Simon swallowed hard. “I’m telling you the truth. I’ve lived there my whole life. My uncle raised me.”

  “Impossible.”

  “Why?” demanded Simon.

  “Because Darryl Thorn is dead.”

  Simon’s insides clenched, and his eyes darted from one wolf to the next. “Are you sure about that? Because I know for a fact he’s still alive,” he said as boldly as he dared. The wolves were silent. “Go ahead and kill me. I’d hate to be you when he comes looking for me.”

  Malcolm stared at Simon for a long moment, and the others shifted around them. One word from their leader, and they would turn Simon and Winter into oversize chew toys in no time. Winter clutched Simon’s hand, and he squeezed back.

  “Malcolm,” said the female wolf. “Look. The knife.”

  The wolf’s narrowed eyes focused on the ivory-handled knife hanging from Simon’s belt. Simon’s heart skipped a beat. “My uncle gave it to me,” he said.

  “Quiet,” snarled Malcolm, and Simon shut his mouth.

  Heavy silence hung in the air. Simon expected the wolf to lunge at him at any moment. Instead Malcolm examined the knife, his snout a fraction of an inch from Simon’s hand. Beside him, Winter shook so hard that he was surprised she could still stand.

  At last Malcolm tilted his head back and howled. It was a lonely sound that made Simon ache. In the distance, he heard several dogs join in, but none of them were as haunting as Malcolm.

  Finally the howl ended, and the wolf lowered his head. “Both of you, come with us. Run, and you may not live to see sunset.”

  He trotted ahead, and the others formed a wall behind Simon and Winter, trying to force them down the stone path. Winter refused to move.

  “Trust me,” said Simon. “It’ll be all right.”

  “If you want to be their dinner, then fine,” she said, “but I’d rather not be eaten alive by a bunch of mangy mutts—”

  One of the wolves snapped at her ankles, and she yelped. “I don’t think they like being insulted,” said Simon. Winter grumbled, and at last trudged forward.

  As they made their way to the center of the zoo, Simon’s skin prickled. He had the strangest feeling they were being watched. When he looked around, however, all he saw was the empty path, surrounded by trees and the New York City skyline. There was something undeniably strange about the zoo. It was quiet—too quiet, especially for the city, and it took him several seconds to figure out why. Though the flock still circled high overhead as the pack watched warily, Simon didn’t hear any birds nearby. Not even pigeons.

  As Malcolm led them through the exit, Winter let out a muffled sob, and Simon glanced over his shoulder. For all her bravado, her eyes were red and her cheeks flushed, and she looked as though she was on the verge of a panic attack.

  “We’ll do anything you want,” she said in a choked voice. “Just please don’t eat us.”

  “Eat you?” said the female. “Look at you—runt of the litter. Runts don’t amount to much here, do they?”

  “I see plenty of potential,” said another, wearing a sadistic grin. “Fatten her up, and there might even be enough for leftovers.”

  Several of the wolves laughed, and Simon clenched his fists. “Stop it,” he said. “I don’t care what you do with me, but you will let Winter go.”

  To his surprise, the wolves grew quiet and glanced uneasily at one another. Finally they all seemed to focus on their leader.

  “What’s your name?” said Malcolm.

  “Winter Rivera,” she said, her voice shaking. The wolf cocked his head.

  “Rivera? As in Councilman Robert Rivera?”

  “He’s my grandfather,” she said with a hint of defiance, as if daring him to comment. Simon looked back and forth between them, trying to figure out whether Winter was telling the truth.

  “I see.” The wolf considered her for a long moment. “The flock has the zoo surrounded. For your own safety, we cannot let you go. However, if you follow my orders, both of you will be safe here.”

  “How are we supposed to trust you when we don’t even know who you are?” said Simon.

  “I am not asking you to trust me. I am demanding your cooperation. Now, if you will.”

  They stopped in front of the large, old-fashioned brick building that Winter had called the Arsenal. A stairway led up to a pair of wooden doors that looked firmly closed, and above them, a metal casting of an eagle spread its wings.

  “Is this the Acad—” Simon began, but suddenly the air around the pack leader shimmered, and Malcolm began to shift. His snout turned into a human face, and his thick fur wove together to form a crisp black uniform. Soon enough, a hulking man stood in front of them, and Simon tried not to stare. His hair was curlier and his face unscarred, but with his bulging muscles, chiseled jaw, and broad shoulders, he looked startlingly similar to Darryl.

  “No, it’s not. Give me the knife,” said Malcolm, holding out his hand.

  Simon bit the inside of his cheek and handed it over. Malcolm inspected the wicked blade and polished handle, and after several seconds he slipped the knife into his belt.

  “You will come with me, and you will not say a word unless spoken to.”

  “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me who you are,” said Simon.

  The man narrowed his eyes. “I am Malcolm Thorn, Beta of the mammal kingdom, leader of the Brotherhood of Wolves, and head of security at the L.A.I.R.”

  “Malcolm Thorn?” said Simon. “Are you and my uncle—”

  “Darryl Thorn was my eldest brother,” said Malcolm, and a muscle in his jaw twitched. “If he is still alive, then he has done an excellent job faking his own death. Even our mother believes him to be dead.”

  “Your mother?” said Simon faintly. Darryl had family in the city, and he’d never mentioned them?

  “Yes, our mother. The Alpha. I expect she’ll want to meet with you as soon as she returns.”

  Simon’s mouth dropped open. The Alpha was Darryl’s mother? Which made the Alpha his grandmother, he realized. But why—

  “Meet with us?” said Winter, who had apparently regained some of her confidence now that they were facing down a human instead of a wolf. “No way. I’m not going anywhere near that—”

  “I would choose your next words very carefully if I were you,” said Malcolm. “Nothing inside is going to bite you. Yet. But I can’t guarantee my pack won’t get hungry.”

  Turning away, he climbed up the stairs, and Simon followed. If Darryl was the Alpha’s son, then why had he faked his death? To protect Simon from his own family? Malcolm might have been afraid of what the birds would do to them, but Simon knew the real danger wasn’t the flock. It was whatever lay inside the Arsenal.

  He couldn’t turn back now though, and he wouldn’t have even if he could. His mother was inside, and no matter what it took, he was going to find her.

  Malcolm led them into the entrance hall, and the wooden floor squeaked beneath their feet. Weak light filtered through the window above the door, and Simon examined a mural as they passed—falcons and wolves and rattlesnakes and bears and even a swarm of wasps, all united against an enemy Simon couldn’t see. Instead of leading them up the nearby winding staircase as Simon expected, Malcolm turned right and ducked through a door in the corner of the hall, guiding them down a narrow stairway that led deep below the Arsenal.

  As they descended the steps, Winter found Simon’s hand again and clutched it. His fingers started to ache, but he didn’t pull away. The other wolves must have stayed outside, because when the three of them reached the bottom, Simon noticed they were on their own. And standing at a dead end.

  “Where—” Winter began, but Malcolm shushed her and flipped open a wooden panel in the wall, revealing a keypad. He punched in a code, and for a moment, nothing happened. Grumbling under his breath, Malcolm kicked the wall, and suddenly a grinding sound filled the air. A sliver of light appeared, slowly growing larger.

  Simon stared, his mout
h agape. The hidden door slid open, revealing a cavern that housed a brick structure even larger than the Arsenal—so large, in fact, that Simon was pretty sure it took up all the space beneath the entire zoo. It looked a lot like any normal building in the middle of the city, other than the fact that it was deep underground, had no windows, and happened to be surrounded by a moat. A narrow bridge swayed over the dark water, leading to a set of double doors on the other side. Malcolm started across, and Simon followed nervously. What was this place?

  Before he could ask, he spotted a silhouette in the murky water, one that looked disturbingly familiar. “Uh, there’s a shark in your moat,” he said.

  “Security is our first priority,” said Malcolm. He nodded to the shark. “Captain.”

  The captain rose to the surface. “Malcolm,” he said in a gravelly voice, and Simon had to tighten his grip on Winter’s hand to keep her from darting back into the Arsenal.

  “I thought sharks needed salt water,” said Simon, sneaking Winter a reassuring look. She didn’t look terribly convinced.

  “As most of our students from the underwater kingdom come from the ocean, the Aquarium is specifically designed to house saltwater creatures,” said Malcolm.

  Simon kept his eyes glued to the water as they crossed the bridge. As soon as the shark sank back into the depths, a smaller silhouette appeared.

  “There’s another one?” moaned Winter, but as the shadow grew larger, Simon realized it wasn’t a shark at all. Instead, a dolphin surfaced.

  “Hello!” said the dolphin, waving a fin. “You must be new! I’m Jam.”

  “I’m Simon,” he said warily. Were dolphins always this friendly, or was Jam really an Animalgam?

  Instead of replying, Jam cocked his head toward him, looking confused. It was then that Simon realized the dolphin hadn’t been talking to him—he’d been talking to Winter. “But—” Jam began.

  “Fluke,” said Malcolm sharply. “Back to your lessons.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Jam. Though he still looked as uncertain as any dolphin could, he bobbed his head. “See you, Simon!”

  “See you,” said Simon faintly.

  The dolphin disappeared back into the water as they reached the other side of the underground bridge. Apparently not very pleased that Jam had seen them, Malcolm muttered a curse under his breath and pushed open the heavy door, revealing a dark hallway that looked more like the entrance to an old castle than a school. The walls were made of stone, and a wrought iron chandelier hung above them. The low light gave the building an eerie feeling, and a chill crept down Simon’s spine. Worse, while framed paintings of all kinds of animals, from mountain lions to vipers to a dolphin that looked like an older version of Jam, lined the hallway, there weren’t any portraits of birds. Simon shoved his hands into his pockets.

  “I’m guessing this isn’t an official part of the Central Park Zoo,” he said.

  “No, it’s not.” Malcolm paused in front of a painting of a wicked-looking spider with a red hourglass on its abdomen. “This is the Den—the temporary home of the L.A.I.R., which is the most prestigious academy for our kind in North America, catering exclusively to the future rulers of our world. The L.A.I.R. is the only school of its type that is interspecies—meaning we teach students from all kingdoms.”

  “Except birds,” said Simon, and Malcolm’s expression darkened.

  “The bird kingdom lost the right to attend when their leader ordered an attack on the original L.A.I.R. and destroyed half the school.”

  Simon fought to keep his expression neutral as he glanced at Winter. She didn’t react, seemingly too busy examining a portrait of a wolf that looked strikingly similar to Malcolm. “Why would they do something like that?”

  “Up until a decade or so ago, the Bird Lord was the head of the L.A.I.R. When the kingdoms voted the Alpha as his replacement, he didn’t go quietly,” said Malcolm, gripping the handle of Darryl’s knife. “Afterward, it was too dangerous for us to stay beneath the open sky, so we had to hide underground like a pack of moles. The middle of the city is far from an ideal location to host a school of Animalgams, but the flock can’t attack us down here. Not easily, at least.”

  Malcolm pushed open another door at the end of the short corridor and ushered them through. As soon as Simon saw what was on the other side, he nearly tripped over his own feet in shock. It seemed like they’d stepped into a glass tunnel in the middle of the ocean. Surrounding them on all sides was the kind of marine life Simon had only ever dreamed of seeing. Colorful schools of fish swam in tight formations among the coral and seaweed, as if doing military exercises. Sharks weaved among them, showing off rows of sharp teeth. Spotting Jam the dolphin, Simon gave him a weak wave.

  “This is the Aquarium,” said Malcolm. “The underwater kingdom’s section.”

  Simon wasn’t in the mood for a guided tour, but the more he knew about this place, the easier it would be to find his mother. “So each kingdom has a section, then.”

  “Yes,” said Malcolm, his voice tinged with annoyance. “The Den is shaped like a pentagon—five sides, five sections. This hallway goes all the way around. The outer ring consists of the dormitories, where the students sleep. That’s where that trapdoor leads—to the underwater barracks,” he said, gesturing to a door beneath their feet. “The inner ring of the Den contains the classrooms, and the pit is in the center of it all.”

  “If birds aren’t allowed here, then what’s in the fifth section?” said Simon as he pictured the layout in his mind. If he were the Alpha, where would he keep his mother? No place the students could accidentally find her, which ruled out the dormitories.

  “The fifth is for members of the Alpha family,” said Malcolm flatly. “It’s where you’ll be staying.”

  He opened a door on their left, and Simon blinked, taken aback. This hallway looked to be straight out of an ancient forest. Fully grown trees with leaves as green as the ones in Central Park grew around a dirt path, and the lights were dimmed to make it look like twilight.

  “The mammals’ section,” said Malcolm. “Why aren’t you in the pit, Tomas?”

  A massive grizzly bear peeked out from his poorly chosen hiding spot behind a pair of trees. He shrugged sheepishly. “Don’t want to die.”

  “You’re not going to die.” Malcolm opened a wooden door that blended in so well with the rest of the forest that Simon would have never noticed it on his own. “Pit—now. And don’t forget, you’re bigger than her.”

  The grizzly bear—Tomas—shuddered and ambled through the door. Simon craned his neck to see past Malcolm, and he spotted a long hallway that led to the center of the Den. Before he could see what was at the other end, Malcolm closed the door and grunted, gesturing for Simon and Winter to follow him through the rest of the mammals’ section. At the end of the hallway, he pushed through a curtain of ivy. They must have been near the very back of the Den now, as far from the entrance hall as possible.

  “The Alpha quarters,” said Malcolm, and Simon frowned. The walls were painted sky blue, and branches grew out of the walls, low enough that he had to duck to avoid walking into them. If he hadn’t known better, he would have guessed they were back in Orion’s penthouse.

  Even more confusing, Malcolm turned halfway down the corridor and led them into an atrium decorated exactly like the top level of Sky Tower, with lush grass, trees rising several stories high, and a glass spiral staircase in the back leading upward to three other levels. The Den must have been built before the bird kingdom had been banished, Simon realized. This was supposed to be their section.

  “You’ll wait in here,” said Malcolm as he herded them into an office. Simon stumbled after Winter, and Malcolm closed the door, locking them inside. With red walls and leather furniture, the room felt comfortable and warm, almost like his and Darryl’s apartment. A huge mahogany desk took up most of the space in the back of the room, and near the door stood a bookcase overflowing with worn books about every species of animal he could th
ink of. The higher shelves were crammed with titles like The Great Bird War of the Seventeenth Century, The Ancient Order of Animalgams, and A Brief History of the Insect Migration—titles that, if Simon weren’t staring right at them, he would never have believed. His fingers itched to flip through the pages, but he stopped when he spotted another title: The Rise and Fall of the Beast King.

  The rat’s warning echoed through his head, and Simon reached for the book. If nothing else, maybe he could find out what the rat had been talking about.

  “So that’s what she looks like,” said Winter, her voice cutting through the silence. Startled, Simon dropped his hand. Winter was examining a portrait of a woman with straight dark hair, icy blue eyes, and a narrow nose. Another one of a young man with sandy hair and a playful smirk watched them from behind the desk.

  “If that’s the Alpha, then who—” Simon began, turning around, but he stopped short. A third portrait hung on the wall beside the door, and this time he knew exactly who the young man with dark hair and even darker eyes was.

  Darryl.

  “That’s my uncle,” he said. “He really is Malcolm’s brother.”

  “What, did you expect the slobbering mutt to lie to you?” said Winter, collapsing on a leather couch. Her eyes were still red and puffy from crying. “We have bigger problems to deal with right now. If Malcolm really thinks the flock was trying to attack us, then he must not know the Alpha ordered the rats to go after you, or that Orion protected you. But once he catches on . . .”

  “We’ll leave as soon as we find my mother,” said Simon, wandering around the office, searching for any clues that might indicate where she was being kept. But he saw nothing out of the ordinary—nothing that screamed “kidnapping,” at least.

  “The Alpha could have moved her by now,” said Winter.

  “She’s here. You heard the rats.”

  “But how do you know for sure? We could be risking our lives for nothing—”

  “This is the only lead we have,” said Simon. The hot knot settled back in his chest and burned. “She has to be here, all right? If she’s not, then—then she’s gone, and I can’t think like that. Not right now.” His mother was counting on him.