Simon Thorn and the Wolf's Den

by Aimee Carter

  “Exactly,” said Winter. “She already has four. Orion’s piece is the only one she’s missing. That’s what he’s really trying to do—stop her from gaining the power to kill every last one of her enemies. Including us.”

  A horrible sinking feeling came over Simon. It made sense. If the Beast King had been as powerful as everyone said thanks to the Predator, then reassembling it would mean the Alpha would gain instant control over the entire Animalgam world. “There’s no way the rulers would hand their pieces over.”

  “I don’t think they did,” she said. “Orion said the Alpha sent a representative to negotiate an alliance and steal the pieces from right under their noses. They probably don’t even know they’re missing.”

  As unsettled as Simon was by the idea of anyone hunting down the pieces of the Predator, an even more troubling thought dawned on him, and he stared at Winter. “This is why you agreed to help me find my mom. So you could come here and steal the scepter.”

  Winter hesitated. “No. Of course not. I just thought that while we’re here . . .”

  A bitter taste filled Simon’s mouth. “Put it back.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. Put it back.”

  “Don’t you get it?” she said. “If the Alpha finds all five pieces and the scepter—”

  “But she won’t,” he said. “Orion isn’t going to hand his over.”

  “He will if it means saving your life,” said Winter hotly. Simon faltered. The idea of his grandfather risking all five Animalgam kingdoms in order to protect him wasn’t something he’d been prepared for, and it hit him right over the knot in his chest. He knew Darryl and his mother loved him enough to do crazy things to keep him safe, but Orion . . .

  “It won’t matter,” said Simon. “Not if she doesn’t know where the real scepter is. Put it back. Hide it. Make sure she can’t find it, and even if Orion hands over his piece or someone steals it, the Alpha will never be able to assemble the Predator.”

  Winter glowered. “But—”

  “Simon? Winter?” called Jam from several shelves away. Simon lowered his voice.

  “She won’t look for it down here, and the door’s blocked now, anyway. Even if she did find the passageway, she’d never be able to get through.”

  “But the second tunnel—”

  “We’ll worry about that when we find it. Put it back, Winter.”

  She clenched her jaw, but at last she relented and returned the scepter to the pile of junk, burying it deep within the books and frames. By the time Jam caught up to them, she’d restacked the crates, leaving no sign that they’d been disturbed.

  “What are you two doing?” said Jam.

  Simon shrugged. “Nothing, just—”

  “Simon!” Felix appeared at the head of the aisle. “You have no idea how lucky you are. I think I found the way out.”

  Jam’s expression fell. Clearly he’d wanted time to explore the books. Simon said quickly, “I’ll make sure it’s safe. You both stay here.”

  Winter didn’t seem too eager to leave the scepter, anyway, and Simon gave her one more warning look before following Felix down the aisles. The mouse led him to the back corner of the cavern, where another tapestry hung. When Simon pushed it aside, he revealed a second wooden door.

  “How do you know it leads out?” said Simon, but Felix darted under the door. Steeling himself for another cave-in, Simon gingerly pushed it open. It was lighter than he expected, and though the hinges creaked, they didn’t protest nearly as much as the ones on the first door.

  Simon found himself in a much smaller antechamber. It also had modern lights flickering overhead, and the majority of the room was taken up by a wooden table covered in open books, piles of yellowed parchment, and, much to Simon’s surprise, several spiral notebooks and pens. Nearly everything was covered with a thin layer of dust.

  “There’s another door through here,” said Felix, but one of the notebooks on the table caught Simon’s attention. The handwriting—he had only ever seen it on the postcards taped to his wall, but he would have recognized it anywhere.

  It was his mother’s.

  He picked up the notebook and examined it. On the top page, his mother had drawn a pair of family trees. The first he recognized: Celeste Thorn was at the top, with lines leading down to Darryl, Luke, and the youngest, Malcolm. Celeste must be the Alpha’s real name, he figured.

  But his father’s name, Luke, had an arrow pointing to the second family tree. It was longer than the first, outlining multiple generations, but there was only one name at the bottom:

  Luke Thorn.

  His brow furrowed, Simon turned to the next page. It was a time line that started in 1537. A series of dates roughly twenty to thirty years apart ran down the page, each with a name written beside it—some male, some female. But as Simon followed the list, he realized what he was looking at.

  It was the second family tree, expanded into a single, unbroken line. And at the very bottom, once again, was his father’s name.

  “Felix—did you see this?” said Simon.

  “I can’t read,” said the mouse, climbing up the table leg to join him. “What does it say?”

  “I think—I think my father was adopted.” It made sense, he supposed. His father didn’t look anything like Malcolm or Darryl. But he didn’t understand why no one would have told him, or why his mother would have been investigating it in the first place.

  Simon took a harder look at the open books on the table. Some were as thick as dictionaries, with tiny, cramped handwriting that was difficult to read, but they all had one thing in common: they were open to chapters about the Beast King. What did that have to do with his father?

  He flipped to another page in his mother’s notebook. Horse. Iguana. Jellyfish. Sparrow. Wasp. Tiger. Crane. Butterfly. It was a list of every animal Simon could think of, each with a small checkmark beside it.

  “She must have been researching what the Beast King could shift into,” he said. But it wouldn’t matter anymore, not when the Beast King had been dead for centuries.

  Unless—

  A bead of sweat formed on Simon’s forehead, and he searched the open books. Most of them were vague about the Beast King’s history, but at last, underneath another massive leather book, he found a thin biography. Holding his breath, he flipped through the brittle pages until he found what he was looking for.

  Though no one has learned the Beast King’s true identity or from which of the five kingdoms he hailed, scholars have concluded he was born in the year 1537 . . .

  Simon turned back to the page in the notebook with the unbroken family line. The very first date listed, the only one without a name, was—

  1537.

  “Would . . .” Simon’s throat went dry. “Would the Beast King’s powers have been passed down the way normal Animalgams’ are? Parent to kid?”

  Felix blinked. “How am I supposed to know? They don’t cover that on Animal Planet. Besides, there’s only ever been one Beast King.”

  His mind whirling, Simon skimmed every open page, looking for any sign that his hunch was wrong. But he couldn’t find any. The conflicting family trees. The time line that began with the Beast King. The animals his mother had listed, and the checkmarks beside them—she hadn’t been researching the Beast King’s powers at all.

  Simon had finally discovered why Darryl had hidden him. Why his mother had risked everything to keep him from the Alpha. Why his entire life up until now had been one giant lie.

  His father was the Beast King’s heir.

  Simon felt as though Bryan Barker had punched him in the gut. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he was connecting dots that weren’t there. But he would have bet every single one of his mother’s postcards that he was right.

  “Is there a way out through here?” said a voice. Winter. Simon jumped and hastily shoved the notebook into his backpack before turning around to face her.

  “Felix thinks so,” he said lamely. Jam lingere
d behind Winter, peering at the open books on the table. “We should go before Malcolm tears apart the whole Stronghold trying to find us.”

  Walking away from that table full of answers—and more questions than Simon could ever have dreamed of—was one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do. But as the hot knot burned in his chest, he did exactly that, following Felix through another wooden door and into a narrow cavern. Jam walked beside him, but it wasn’t until Simon looked over his shoulder and saw Winter sulking over her abandoned scepter that another piece of the puzzle clicked into place.

  The Alpha must have known. That was why his mother had never been able to leave with Nolan. Because the Alpha knew exactly who Nolan was—and now, who Simon was.

  If she assembled the Predator, she wouldn’t have to kill countless Animalgams in order to gain their powers.

  She would just have to kill whichever one of them was the Beast King’s heir.

  14

  DOGFIGHT

  After a long, winding walk through a narrow cavern that seemed never to end, they emerged from the mouth of a cave into the shallow ocean near shore. Jam was delighted about their discovery, talking endlessly about the titles he’d glimpsed and how old and rare the books must have been, and while Simon remained silent, Winter eventually snapped.

  “I thought birds and reptiles were supposed to like reading, not fish.”

  “I’m not a fish. I’m a dolphin,” said Jam. “We’re mammals, you know—we just live underwater. That’s why the general leads us instead of the Alpha.”

  “Mammals aren’t exactly known to be big readers, either,” said Winter.

  “Why do any of us have to be defined by our kingdoms? You don’t exactly seem like a typical snake,” said Jam, and they spent the rest of the walk back to the Stronghold arguing.

  When they were halfway there, Simon heard a faint chirp. Only then did he remember Malcolm’s warning about the bird flock, and he quickened his pace, hoping Orion didn’t choose that moment to rescue them. Now, more than ever, it was imperative that he find his mother before the Alpha returned. And somehow he had to talk Nolan into going with them. If the Alpha managed to assemble the Predator after all, they had to be as far away from her as possible before she had the chance to kill one of them.

  As they made their way up to the entrance with the familiar crest, Malcolm stormed out of the Stronghold, even more furious than he had been when Nolan had left. “Where have you been?” he growled, grabbing Simon by the collar of his shirt.

  “We just—the walls were rumbling—we thought the Stronghold was going to collapse,” he sputtered. It took several minutes and a chorus of agreements from Jam and Winter, but at last Malcolm ushered Simon back inside to rejoin Nolan.

  Simon was impatient to read the rest of his mother’s notebook, but after their separate escapes, Malcolm didn’t let them out of his sight. They stayed in the library until the ceremony following the hunt, when Malcolm marched them side by side to the throne room. Simon watched, fascinated, as the winning team—led by Garrett—presented the glass star to Vanessa. She broke it into five pieces and offered one to each member, keeping the last for herself. That star must have symbolized the second part of the Predator, Simon realized—the part the Alpha was trying to put together. The part that would get either him or Nolan killed if she succeeded.

  They arrived back at the Central Park Zoo late that evening, most of the students still talking wildly about the hunt. As everyone headed into the Arsenal and down the staircase that led to the Den, Simon, who was at the very back of the group, shoved his hands into his pockets. His fingers brushed up against something metal—the pocket watch his mother had given him.

  Simon stopped halfway across the front hall of the Arsenal and pulled it out. Flipping it over, he examined the back. There it was—the same crest that he’d seen at the Stronghold. The same five animals, all drawn together.

  The symbol of the Beast King.

  “Simon,” said a gruff voice, and his head shot up. Standing in a corner, mostly hidden by shadow, was Darryl.

  He dashed over, and Darryl caught him in a hug. His uncle still wore the same clothes he’d had on the day before, and Simon made a face. “You smell.”

  “Good to see you, too,” said Darryl with a chuckle, his scar crinkling. His humor was short-lived though, and he gripped Simon’s arm. “We need to get out of here. It isn’t safe.”

  “I’m not leaving,” said Simon, and the joy of seeing his uncle dissolved. “Mom’s here somewhere. The Alpha took her, and I’m not leaving until I find her.”

  “Even if your mother is here, I can’t let you stay. It’s too dangerous. We’ll find some other way—”

  “There is no other way. The Alpha’s coming back in twenty-four hours.”

  Darryl’s expression grew pinched. “Simon, I’m sorry, I really am, but you have to understand—”

  Something inside him snapped. “No, you have to understand. I’m not going with you. I have a brother, and you never told me. Mom’s been in the city my whole life, and you never told me. I’m part of this—this world where people can turn into animals, and you never told me. You let me go on thinking I was weird or crazy, and all this time—I had a right to know who I am. Now Mom’s been kidnapped, my brother hates me, and the Alpha is after a weapon I don’t understand, but I know that if she gets it, a lot of people are going to die, and I have to find Mom before that happens. If you’re not going to help me, then—then you need to go.”

  The accusations tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them, and his face grew hot once he realized what he’d said. Darryl stared at him for several long seconds, and at last he cleared his throat.

  “Your mother wouldn’t want you to risk your life for her,” he said quietly. “You or Nolan. And I’m sorry I never told you about all of this, Simon—it’s a discussion your mother and I have had countless times, but ultimately we both decided it was safer if you didn’t know. Not until you absolutely had to.”

  “I absolutely had to yesterday,” said Simon. “I absolutely had to when the rats started chasing us.”

  “And we were going to tell you. Your mother had already started to,” said Darryl.

  “It was too late by then.” Simon hesitated. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not leaving Mom or Nolan.”

  The scar running down his uncle’s face twitched. “Simon—”

  An infuriated roar filled the entrance hall. A hulking wolf stood at the top of the stairwell, his hackles raised and his teeth bared.

  “I was wondering when you’d show your face,” said Malcolm in a dangerous voice as he advanced on them. “I see you’re not nearly as dead as you wanted us to believe.”

  Darryl’s grip on Simon tightened. “We were just leaving.”

  Simon opened his mouth to protest, but Malcolm cut him off. “You’re not going anywhere—either of you.”

  “And how do you plan on stopping me?” The dangerous rumble in Darryl’s voice made Simon shiver. “Twelve years or not, I can still take you.”

  A chorus of low growls echoed through the entrance hall, and at least a dozen wolves appeared from the shadows, surrounding them. Three gathered at the exit, blocking their only escape route. Simon’s heart raced.

  “Both of you, into the Den,” said Malcolm. “I’ll let the Alpha decide what to do with you.”

  Behind him, Simon could feel his uncle shuddering with the effort not to shift. “You have no idea what’s going on, Brother. If you did—”

  “Then I guess it’s a good thing you’ll have plenty of time to tell me, isn’t it?” Malcolm jerked his head, and the other wolves moved closer, gnashing their teeth. “Stairwell. Now.”

  “And if I don’t?” said Darryl.

  “Then I hope your pup doesn’t get in the way while we rip you to shreds for treason.”

  “Please—listen to him,” begged Simon. The last thing he wanted was for the Alpha to sink her claws into Darryl, too, but there was no esca
ping without a fight his uncle would lose. And maybe, just maybe, Darryl knew where she might have hidden his mother. It was becoming painfully clear that Simon couldn’t save her by himself, and they had only one more day before the Alpha returned. He needed all the help he could get.

  At last Darryl nodded tersely and headed down the staircase, taking Simon with him. The rest of the students had long since disappeared into the Den, and part of Simon was grateful. An audience wouldn’t help his uncle’s temper.

  “If I find out you’ve touched a hair on Simon’s head—” said Darryl as they passed over the bridge.

  “Why would we want to hurt him?” said Malcolm, nipping at their ankles. Simon hurried along, but Darryl kept the same slow, languid pace, as if he were daring them to try to rush him. “Now explain. What’s going on?”

  “Not here,” Darryl growled. “Not in front of everyone.”

  “Then walk faster, Brother. I expect you remember the way.”

  The corridors were strangely empty, and when Simon smelled food, he remembered it was dinnertime. The brothers said nothing as they entered the Alpha’s section, and it wasn’t until the door shut firmly behind them that Malcolm shifted back. The members of the pack who had escorted them remained outside, and for one horrible second, as Darryl stared at his brother with clenched fists and shaking shoulders, Simon thought he was going to attack Malcolm.

  “Now tell me,” said Malcolm, not taking his eyes off Darryl. “Why did you abandon the pack? Why did you fake your death and leave me to—” Malcolm stopped, and the cords in his neck stood out.

  While Simon perched anxiously on the sofa, Darryl began to pace through the trees. “Had you been in my position, you would have done the same. Luke was dead. Isabel was pregnant with his potential heirs. With the war brewing between Mother and Orion, there was no safe place for Isabel within the kingdoms.”

  Malcolm glanced at Simon. “Orion didn’t know,” he muttered, ducking his head as if it would somehow stop Simon from overhearing. “He would’ve had no reason—”

  “He knew. He caught Luke shifting. Why do you think he suddenly began to support Luke’s relationship with his daughter after years of fighting it?”