Simon Thorn and the Wolf's Den

by Aimee Carter

  “I am telling you, I will escort him back to the Den,” said Malcolm, a warning in his voice.

  “You are not my Alpha,” said Vanessa, reaching for Simon. “I have to obey—”

  A thunderous cry ripped through the square, and Darryl pounced, tackling Vanessa. The other members of the pack jumped into the fight, and several people around them screamed.

  “Go!” yelled Malcolm, shoving Simon away from the brawl. “We’ve got this.”

  “But—” Simon began. His uncle could barely stand on his own.

  “We’ll find you,” promised Malcolm. “Just go.”

  Ariana grabbed Simon’s hand and took off, and he had no choice but to follow. With Jam close behind, they darted down the stone pathway and through the exit. Only after they had crossed Fifth Avenue did they finally slow to catch their breath.

  “Where’s Sky Tower?” said Jam, craning his neck.

  “Stop that. You look like a tourist,” said Ariana.

  “It’s the tall building there with the glass dome at the top,” said Simon.

  “Oh.” Jam paled. “That’s really high.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of heights,” said Ariana, grinning.

  “You’re the one who refused to get into the water,” countered Simon. Her smile faded, and they walked half a block in silence.

  “Are you sure you want to go there?” she said at last. “You saw what Orion’s birds did to your uncle.”

  Simon raked his hair from his face, keeping his eyes open as they approached the entrance to Sky Tower. He couldn’t pretend to forgive the flock’s attack against Darryl, but logic overrode his unease. The birds and the mammals had been at war for as long as Simon had been alive, and his uncle had taken Orion’s eye.

  “The Alpha’s the one who wants to kill us, not Orion,” he said firmly. “He thinks Darryl was helping her. Once I tell him what really happened, he’ll understand.”

  “Even if he does, Orion won’t let you leave, you know,” she said.

  “Where would I go? Out here, the Alpha’s after us. In there, my family can be together.” And more than anything, that was all Simon wanted. “If you’re scared, you don’t have to do this, you know.”

  “I’m not scared,” said Ariana, sounding offended by the very idea.

  “And I’m not leaving, either,” said Jam, though his voice trembled ever so slightly.

  Simon tried to flash them a grateful smile, but it felt more like a grimace. “Then when we get inside, let me do the talking.”

  He pushed open the glass door. The lobby was eerily dark and cold. “Hello?” he called. Something wasn’t right. Orion would never let security lapse like this.

  A figure stooped behind the desk. Simon moved closer. A security guard was slumped in his chair, and dark liquid dripped from his neck.

  Simon recoiled and whirled around. “The guard, he’s—”

  He froze. Near the doorway, two members of the pack had seized Jam and Ariana, hands clamped over their mouths.

  “Dead?” supplied a man with a wicked grin. Ariana’s eyes were wide with panic, and Jam’s glasses dangled precariously from one ear.

  Fear pulsed through Simon, turning his insides to ice. “Let them go.”

  “I’m afraid we can’t do that,” said a low female voice. Out of the shadows stepped a wolf, her teeth bared, and Simon knew instantly who she was.

  The Alpha.

  23

  ENEMY TERRITORY

  The Alpha approached slowly, her claws clicking on the marble floor. Simon’s chest tightened. One slash of her paw, and it would all be over.

  “Where are the pieces?” rumbled the wolf. She was smaller and her fur was darker than the others’, but she radiated ferocity and danger.

  “I don’t have them,” said Simon. “Let my friends go.”

  She snarled and leaped into the air, landing hard on Simon’s shoulders and sending him crashing to the floor. “Give them to me, or I swear I’ll—”

  A roar echoed through the lobby, and a pair of enormous wolves tackled the Alpha, heaving her off Simon. They tangled in a blur of fur and teeth, and Simon pulled himself to his feet. Darryl and Malcolm.

  “Run!” shouted Ariana. She elbowed her assailant in the abdomen and twisted out of his grip.

  Simon hesitated. Jam wrestled with the other man, and though he was several inches shorter, somehow Jam was holding his own. No, more than holding his own—Jam had his attacker’s arm wrenched to an unnatural angle. “I’m sorry, if you’d just let me go, I wouldn’t have to—” Jam caught Simon’s eye. “What are you waiting for? Get out of here!”

  Simon dashed across the lobby and hit the elevator button. The doors opened. The elevator guard was gone, but a bloody keycard lay on the floor.

  “Wait for me!” squeaked Felix, darting across the lobby of Sky Tower, zigzagging between the wolves, and diving into the elevator at the last second.

  “Felix! What are you doing here?” said Simon, scooping him up.

  “You’re the one who left the Den without me,” he accused. “What else was I supposed to do?”

  “I’m sorry,” said Simon, guilt pooling in the pit of his stomach. How had he forgotten Felix?

  The little mouse sniffed. “Let me watch television again, and I’ll consider forgiving you.”

  “Yeah, all right,” said Simon. “Now that Darryl knows about you, there’s no reason to hide.”

  Satisfied, Felix sat back on his haunches. “Good. Now, what’s the plan?”

  “The plan is for you to stay safe,” said Simon. “Besides, I thought you didn’t like birds.”

  Felix shivered. “I don’t, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you waltz up there on your own, either. Orion won’t let you leave again.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “All of us—Orion, Mom, Nolan, Darryl, Malcolm, me—now we can go someplace safe where the Alpha will never find us.”

  “You’re forgetting that Orion and Darryl hate each other,” said Felix, and Simon hesitated.

  “I know.” But they both wanted to protect him and Nolan. Surely that counted for something.

  At last the elevator opened, and Simon stepped out into the forest that was Orion’s penthouse as Felix scampered off to hide. Above him, birds chirped in human voices, their murmurs discontent, and Simon spotted Orion’s silhouette in the tree house far above him.

  “Simon!” His mother’s voice echoed throughout the atrium, and he tensed.

  “Mom? Mom!” He sprinted toward the spiral staircase. “Where are you?”

  “You need to run!” she called, but he didn’t understand. Run from what?

  “Ah, Simon. There you are.” His grandfather peered through the leaves. “Come join us.”

  Simon quickly ascended the staircase that led to the upper level. Orion leaned against the railing, an oddly triumphant smile on his face, while Winter sat in an armchair nearby, staring resolutely out the window.

  His mother was nowhere to be seen.

  “Please, Simon—go,” she begged, and he looked down. On a thick branch hidden halfway between the tree house and the lower level of the atrium hung a cage, and inside was a golden eagle. His mother.

  Cold horror crashed through him, and he looked back and forth between the cage and Orion. “She shouldn’t be locked up. She hasn’t done anything wrong,” he said, slowly taking a step back toward the staircase. A pair of falcons fluttered down and shifted back into humans, blocking his way.

  “Unfortunately, we seem to have a difference of opinion on that,” said Orion. “Search him for anything the Alpha may have planted on him.”

  The guards’ rough hands patted Simon down and dug through his pockets. He fought against their grip, but they were too strong. The first guard fished the pocket watch out of Simon’s sweatshirt, and when he handed it to Orion, Simon felt a keen wrench in his gut.

  “That’s mine,” he said hotly.

  “Is it?” said Orion as he examin
ed the back. “The symbol of the Beast King. How curious that something this valuable fell into your possession. Where did you get it?”

  “I found it in the Den,” he lied, certain that telling Orion the truth—that his mother had given it to him—would only make it more valuable.

  “I see.” Orion clipped the chain of the watch to his lapel as the guards backed off, satisfied that Simon wasn’t armed. “How did you escape on your own? I was about to send the flock back to the Den to rescue you.”

  Simon looked at the caged golden eagle. He wasn’t so sure he wanted Orion’s help, not anymore. “I ran. The Alpha’s downstairs, along with half the pack,” he said, fuming. “If we don’t leave now—”

  “I’m aware,” said Orion, “and I very much hope she makes it up here. Because when she does, I will have a surprise waiting for her.”

  Something on the desk glinted, and Simon’s mouth fell open. The pieces of the Predator. He’d put them together, forming the shape of a five-pointed star. “You—you’re going to kill her?” he said.

  “It’s the only way to ensure peace,” said Orion, following Simon’s gaze and picking it up. “Absorbing the ability to shift into the Alpha wolf will allow me to seize control of the mammal kingdom and right her wrongs.”

  “But—the pieces are useless on their own,” said Simon.

  “Indeed,” he said. “Which is why I asked my dear Winter to retrieve the scepter from the library and leave it in the cave, where my lieutenants were able to fetch it.”

  At first Simon wasn’t sure he’d heard Orion right. But Winter refused to meet his eyes, and when his grandfather revealed the familiar silver staff on the desk behind him, he knew there had been no mistake.

  “This—this was all a setup?” said Simon, and he turned to Winter. Betrayal unlike any he’d ever felt wrapped around his insides, and for a second, he couldn’t breathe. “Going to the L.A.I.R. never had anything to do with finding my mother, did it? All you wanted was the stupid Predator.”

  “You are the one who decided to rescue your mother,” said Orion gently. “I tried to keep you safe, knowing the Alpha was after you, but you made that quite difficult, venturing into the Den as you did. Once you were inside, there was little my kingdom could do to help you. I have feared for your safety every hour, every minute, every second since you ran away from Sky Tower. However, with Unity Day approaching and the Alpha so close to assembling the weapon, we could not waste such a golden opportunity to stop her. Winter was able to communicate with the flock and update us on your status, and in return, I gave her the information she needed to retrieve the stolen pieces of the Predator and ensure our future.” He smiled kindly, his good eye crinkling. “Don’t you see, Simon? You two have saved us. The Alpha will never be able to use the Predator against you or our family now.”

  Simon knew he should have been relieved, but fear and anger boiled inside him, and the knot in his chest burned unbearably. “You swore no one would have the whole weapon,” he said through gritted teeth, glaring at Winter. “You lied to me.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice breaking. “I had to. Stealing the Predator is the only chance we have at stopping the Alpha. The pack killed my father, and if we don’t fight back, if we don’t find a way to win, they’re going to kill us, too. They’ll kill every Animalgam in the bird kingdom until there’s no one left to fight them.”

  “Then what are you so worried about?” he blurted. “Seeing as how you’re a snake.”

  Everything went silent. Even the birds in the trees stopped their murmuring, and the blood drained from Winter’s face.

  “That’s—he’s lying,” she said, and she looked at Orion desperately. “I haven’t shifted. You know I haven’t.”

  “She turned into a cottonmouth and bit Perrin when he tried to rescue me,” said Simon, fury clawing at him from the inside out. “She’s been able to shift for months.”

  “Is that true?” said Orion quietly. Winter’s eyes shone with unshed tears, and she gulped.

  “Please—”

  “Is it true?”

  At last, wiping her cheeks, she whispered, “I’m sorry.”

  Orion took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. “I will deal with you later,” he said. “For now, you are dismissed.”

  Winter stood and stumbled toward the staircase, her eyes red and her lower lip trembling. She shot Simon a venomous look, and even if she’d deserved this for betraying him, he couldn’t help but feel guilty.

  “There,” said Orion once she was gone. “None of the other kingdoms can be trusted, not in this delicate time. Once the Alpha is dead and I control the mammals, perhaps then we can re-form the bonds of trust we all once shared, but until then—”

  “Enough with the lies,” said Simon’s mother, her voice tight with anger. “Killing the Alpha for peace may be the first step in your plan, but you’re really no better than her. You want to become the Beast King. You want to kill my sons.”

  Orion frowned, the lines in his face deepening, and he toyed with the star in his hands. “I have no desire to become the Beast King if there are other ways to ensure peace, my dear. And I’m certainly not fond of the idea of killing my own kin. I will not allow any harm to come to whichever boy is my heir. But I am bound to protect the Animalgam kingdoms whatever way I can. Ending the Beast King’s line before it can rise up again is, of course, the best option, and I would have succeeded last time if you hadn’t given Luke heirs.”

  “Last time?” His mother said nothing for a long moment, and suddenly she gasped. “It was you?”

  Simon blinked, confused, and Orion grimaced. “As long as the line continued, our world would always be in danger. I did what had to be done.”

  In the cage, his mother was breathing rapidly, and even from a distance, Simon could see her tremble. “I knew it was someone from our kingdom, but—he trusted you. He confided in you. He was trying to help you negotiate peace for our world, and you turned around and murdered him?”

  Nausea washed over Simon, and as the pieces clicked into place, he was sure he had misunderstood. “Wait. You—you killed my father?”

  “A necessity I deeply regret,” said Orion. “He was a good man, but as I said, I am bound to protect those who are unable to protect themselves. He had the power to destroy us all—”

  “Luke never would’ve hurt anyone,” said his mother, and Simon opened his mouth to agree, but nothing came out. All this time, he’d trusted his grandfather, too. He’d put his life—and his mother’s life—in the hands of the man who had killed his father.

  “He was under the Alpha’s thumb, and you know as well as I do that she was already beginning to gather the pieces,” said Orion. “It is not the Predator we must fear, but the one who wields it. If there was a chance the Alpha could use it against us . . . my hands were tied.”

  “We were trying to find the pieces before she could,” said his mother. “If you had only helped us, we could have assembled it and destroyed it completely before she could—”

  “My lord!” cried a hawk, landing on a branch nearby. “The pack has taken the bait. They should be arriving in the stairwell momentarily.”

  “Finally.” Orion straightened, and his hands trembled as he slipped the Heart of the Predator onto the scepter, pushing it into place with a sharp click. “Let her come.”

  Simon backed away until he hit the railing, his pulse pounding in his ears. He had to get the weapon before Orion could use it to absorb the Alpha’s powers and seize control of the kingdoms. Simon knew that without a doubt, no matter how many alternatives there were, one day Orion would kill either him or Nolan—whichever twin was the Beast King’s heir. For his own power, or to stop the Beast King’s line from rising again—it didn’t matter. One of them would still be dead.

  “Take him downstairs to join his brother,” said Orion to the guards behind Simon. “Protect them at all costs.”

  They reached for him, but Simon darted out of the way and kicked the
nearest guard in the shin. Startled, the guard stumbled backward down the spiral steps, plowing into his partner and sending them both tumbling down head over heel.

  “Simon!” shouted a small voice, and he looked around. Felix crouched beside Orion, and before his grandfather realized he was there, Felix bit him on the ankle.

  Orion cried out, doubling over as his grip on the weapon slipped. Simon dashed forward and snatched the scepter, prying it from his grandfather’s gnarled fingers and dancing back out of his reach. Now that it was assembled, he could destroy it, and there was only one way he could think of to make sure it wound up in so many pieces that Orion would never have the chance to use it.

  Simon spotted the opening at the top of the atrium. If he could only get up there—

  A hair-raising screech echoed through the trees. Orion had shifted, and he flew after Simon, catching up in seconds. His talons scratched Simon’s neck and shoulders, and he shoved the bird away, using all his might to tear a handful of feathers from Orion’s wing. The eagle screamed and disappeared into the tree.

  Dozens of birds exploded from the branches and began to descend on Simon, but Orion called out, “Do not harm him! He is trapped—there is nowhere for him to go. I will handle this.”

  As they flew back into the trees, Simon looked around, searching desperately for a way to get up to the roof. But there was no ladder. There was no staircase. The only way up was—

  He gritted his teeth. Climbing onto the railing, he balanced precariously on the edge and tucked the Predator into his belt. Here went nothing.

  “Simon—no!” cried his mother, but it was too late. He leaped across the open air, barely managing to grab on to one of the few branches thick enough to hold his weight. Pain shot through his arms, and he struggled as he pulled himself up. At last he made it, and he scurried toward the trunk and began the shaky climb to the highest branches, where he would be able to reach the opening in the roof.

  “Simon—come back down,” called Orion. “If you fall . . .”