Read Simon Thorn and the Wolf's Den Page 22


  Bryan’s grin turned into a scowl. Malcolm and the others closed in around them, but Simon shook his head. He had to take care of this without their help.

  “I’m more important than you’ll ever be, fart face,” said Bryan. “I actually have friends.”

  “What do you think we are?” said Ariana.

  He eyed her pink hair. “Freaks, that’s what. Just like Simon.”

  Bryan took a threatening step toward him, and Malcolm closed in. He may not have been as big as Darryl, but he was just as intimidating.

  Bryan narrowed his eyes. “Where’s your uncle, Psycho? Did he finally see what a pathetic loser you are and leave you like your mom did?”

  The mention of Darryl was a knife to Simon’s gut. He tried not to react—after all he’d faced lately, Bryan Barker was nothing—but Colin piped up.

  “Leave him alone, Bryan,” he said. “He’s not bothering us, and I want to get home.”

  “Stop being such a baby,” said Bryan. “Unless you want to be next.”

  A pigeon cooed overhead, and Simon glanced up. An entire flock nestled in the branches, watching the action unfold. One brave bird flew down, landing on Simon’s shoulder, and an idea formed in his mind. He whispered a few words to the pigeon, which bobbed its head and flew back into the tree.

  “Stop talking to the birds, Psycho,” said Bryan. “Or are they the only ones who talk back?”

  “Sorry, what did you say? I don’t speak cockroach,” said Simon.

  Bryan’s face turned bright red. “Who are you calling a cockroach?” He took another menacing step toward them, but before he could reach him, Simon cried out. “Now!”

  A hundred pigeons exploded from the trees. The first pigeon dived toward Bryan, but just before it reached him, it pulled up and—

  Splat.

  Splat. Splat, splat. Splat.

  Pigeon droppings rained from the sky, landing squarely on Bryan. On his clothes, in his hair, on his face—everywhere. He screamed and danced around, trying to avoid them, but they kept coming. His gang burst into laughter, and Simon crossed his arms.

  “I might be a psycho, but you’re the one eating pigeon poop,” he said. “If you ever call me or Colin or anyone a freak again, I’ll send every pigeon in the city after you. Got it?”

  Bryan shrieked and ran down the path, looking like a giant moving pile of pigeon droppings. Still laughing, his gang took off after him, leaving Colin behind with the backpacks.

  “You should leave them here,” said Simon. “They deserve it.”

  Colin shrugged and shifted one onto his shoulder. “Maybe next time. Thanks, by the way.”

  “You’re welcome. Just don’t let Bryan tell you what to do anymore, all right? He’s not worth it.”

  Colin smiled sadly. “We’re not all as brave as you are, Simon. See you around.”

  Simon watched him trudge down the path. Maybe he would see Colin, maybe he wouldn’t. Simon’s life was changing too rapidly for him to predict anything anymore, and all he could do was try to keep up. One thing he did know for sure though: a week ago, he hadn’t been this brave, either.

  26

  HOWL AT THE MOON

  One evening in the middle of September, after Nolan had left for the dining hall, Simon settled on the sofa with his favorite book. Ever since his uncle’s death, he’d been eating his meals in the Alpha’s section, too numb to join the others. It had worked out so far, but this time, Malcolm appeared. “My brother wouldn’t have wanted you to mourn him forever.”

  Ten days wasn’t forever, but even if it had been ten years, Simon couldn’t imagine pretending everything was all right. “I’m not hungry.”

  “I remember what it was like to be your age, and I was always hungry.” Malcolm eased down onto the couch beside him. “It might not seem like it now, but you’ll wake up one day and remember what it felt like to be happy. Until then, all you can do—all any of us can do—is go through the motions.” He clapped his hand on Simon’s shoulder. “You’re not alone, Simon. I hope you know that. Now go join your brother for dinner.”

  Simon dragged himself down to the dining hall, fully prepared to eat as quickly as possible. When he arrived, he spotted Nolan in the buffet line. Before he could join him, however, Garrett and a handful of other mammals surrounded Simon.

  “Oh, look, it’s pigeon boy,” said Garrett with a snicker. Nolan must have told him about the incident in the park. “I’ve been meaning to ask—why did they call you Psycho Simon? Is it because you have bird-turd brains?”

  Simon sighed. So the taunts wouldn’t end whether he was at Kennedy Middle School or the Leading Animalgam Institute for the Remarkable. At least they were familiar. “You want to know why they call me Psycho Simon? Find me in the pit, and I’ll show you.”

  A chorus of oohs erupted from the mammals, and Nolan walked up beside Simon, holding a tray full of burgers and fries. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing,” said Garrett with a grin.

  Simon shrugged. “Your goons think I’m crazy because I’m Orion’s heir.”

  Nolan scowled. A few boys seemed to shrink beneath his glare, but Garrett stood his ground.

  “You will apologize to my brother, and you will treat him with the respect he deserves,” said Nolan with surprising authority. Though the fact that he was the Beast King’s heir was still a closely guarded secret, finally shifting had done him a world of good. Simon only wished the same had been true for him.

  Garrett’s mouth puckered as if he had swallowed a lemon. “But—”

  “No buts.” Nolan raised his chin, and even though Garrett was almost a full foot taller, he took a nervous step back. “If you want to stay in the Den, you’ll apologize to my brother right now, and you will bow to him. And call him Your Highness.”

  Garrett paled, and Simon shook his head. “It’s fine,” he said, not wanting to cause more trouble for himself. “I’m used to it.”

  “You’re a prince, and my brother,” said Nolan. “No one’s ever going to insult you again, and if they try, there will be consequences. What’ll it be, Garrett?”

  With a clenched jaw, Garrett bowed stiffly. “Your Highness,” he muttered, sounding vaguely like he was trying not to choke. “I’m sorry if I offended you.”

  “You didn’t,” said Simon. He clutched his book and looked at his brother. “I’m going to get some food. I’ll see you around.”

  “You’re not sitting with us?” said Nolan, and Simon was surprised by the hint of hurt in his voice. He glanced at Garrett, whose face was turning the color of ketchup. If Simon sat with them tonight, he’d be dead before dessert.

  “Maybe for breakfast,” he said. “Or you could sit with me.”

  One look at Nolan’s expression told Simon what he thought about that idea. “Breakfast, then,” said Nolan. He wandered off toward his friends, and Garrett followed closely behind.

  Once Simon filled his plate, he sat down at an empty table and opened his book. He could feel others sneaking furtive glances at him, and he slouched in his seat. By now, thanks to Nolan’s big mouth, the whole school knew about what had happened in Sky Tower, but Simon didn’t care. They could look all they wanted as long as no one tried to tell him he didn’t belong because he had sprouted feathers instead of fur.

  He was halfway through a chapter when Jam pulled up a chair across from him. “Is this seat free?” he said.

  “Only if you’ll eat my fries for me,” said Simon.

  Ariana dropped her tray onto the table and plopped down beside Simon. “I guess I’ll sit with you, too, as long as you promise not to get any of your bird nerdiness on me.”

  “What, you mean like this?” said Jam, and he reached across the table and rubbed his book on her shoulder.

  “Or like this?” said Simon, doing the same. Ariana squirmed.

  “Gross! What is wrong with you two?”

  It might have been his relief at not sitting alone; it might have been the look on Ariana’s face a
s she tried in vain to push them away. But the dam inside him burst, and for the first time since the day Darryl had died, Simon laughed. It felt good, and across the room, he caught Nolan’s eye. His brother was sandwiched between Garrett and another boy, and he flashed Simon a grin. Simon returned it.

  “Maybe tomorrow, we can get Nolan to sit with us,” he said. Ariana and Jam exchanged a look.

  “He’s the prince,” said Jam. “He always sits with the mammals.”

  “I’m a prince, too,” said Simon. “So are you. And you’re a princess, Ariana.”

  She twirled her knife between her fingers. “Call me that again, I dare you.”

  He pulled his hands away from her. “He’ll sit with us tomorrow,” he said firmly. “We’re all going to be the leaders of our kingdoms someday, and it’s about time we all started to get along.”

  “Hear, hear,” said Jam.

  “To crazy ideas that are never going to work,” said Ariana. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  Simon knew it would take some adjustment for all of them, but as he watched his brother talk animatedly to Garrett and the other mammals, he was sure that one way or another, they would both be the princes the Animalgam world needed them to be, and the five kingdoms would be better for it.

  Simon spent the rest of the evening taping his mother’s postcards to his bedroom wall, working well into the night to get the order right. Seeing the colorful pictures of the places she’d been gave him hope he would see her again, and right now, he needed that.

  “Where’s that one from?” said Felix as he nibbled on an apple slice. After Malcolm had discovered Felix sleeping on Simon’s pillow, Malcolm had eventually agreed to let Felix stay, with the caveat that he remain in Simon’s room at all times. Felix wasn’t happy about missing the television Simon had promised him, but there wasn’t much either of them could do about it.

  Simon peered at the postcard of a venomous viper. “It’s from Phoenix, Arizona. Lots of sand.”

  “Lots of snakes,” said Felix, shuddering.

  “Bet Winter would hate it even more than you do,” said Simon, and he hopped off his desk. All he had left to put away was his pocket watch. He picked it up off his bed and examined the silver face. Now, instead of being the only connection he had to his father, it was also a constant reminder of what had happened on the roof of Sky Tower, and Simon couldn’t stand it. He placed the watch in his dresser drawer, nestling it between two of his thickest pairs of socks. “Have you seen her tonight?”

  “She’s in her room,” said Felix. “Threatened to feed me to the sharks.”

  “At least she didn’t actually try,” said Simon. “She’s okay though?”

  “She’s stopped blubbering so much,” said the mouse, and Simon supposed that was all he could hope for.

  A wolf’s mournful howl echoed from somewhere aboveground, where the pack was patrolling the zoo, and Simon tensed. “I’m going out. If Malcolm comes in, tell him I went to the pit to practice. I’ll be back before midnight,” he said before slipping out of his room and into his brother’s. It was empty, and Simon was grateful for it. There were some things he needed to do alone.

  He pushed aside the panel that hid the secret tunnel, and soon enough, he emerged into the night air. A cool wind blew, and he closed his eyes and concentrated. Malcolm had talked to him about the finer points of controlling his transformations, and while he’d done it only a couple of times since the day Darryl had died, he thought he had the hang of it. A few heartbeats later, his body began to shift, and soon he had morphed into an eagle.

  Simon spread his wings and took flight, soaring over the dark zoo. With his eagle vision, the full moon was more than enough for him to see the smallest details, including where each member of the pack roamed. He circled the area until Vanessa, in her wolf form, moved her patrol to a different spot. Finally, with little more than a soft scrape, he landed on the stone path beside his uncle’s grave.

  In the days since the funeral, someone had erected the second statue—a giant wolf that was an exact replica of his uncle. He even had a scar running down his furry cheek. The wolf’s muzzle was raised as he howled silently at the moon, and a shiver ran through Simon. Shifting back into his human form, he stood beside his uncle’s grave.

  “Hi, Darryl,” he said, searching for the right thing to say. How was he supposed to tell him how sorry he was? How much he missed him? The words didn’t exist. But they struggled to escape him anyway, and the knot in his chest throbbed with unbearable pain.

  “You’re the best family I’ve ever had,” he whispered, and he touched the stone wolf’s muzzle. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen. I’m sorry I left you, and I’m sorry I never told you how much—” His throat swelled up until he could barely speak. “Most of all, I’m sorry for what I have to do now. I have to find the pieces of the Predator before Orion does. It’s the only way Nolan will ever be safe. If I can destroy the weapon, then maybe he’ll have a chance. Maybe we both will. And maybe—maybe we’ll be able to save Mom. You would do the same thing, I know you would. And—and you’re not here anymore, so it’s up to me now. I’ll protect them, no matter what it takes. I promise.”

  He took a shaky breath as a mountain of emotions built up inside him. Guilt, anger, regret—each one more excruciating than the last, until finally he couldn’t take it anymore. The fire in his chest exploded, and the familiar sensation of his limbs twisting overtook him.

  But this time it was different. Instead of feathers, fur sprouted from his skin. His hands and feet shifted into paws, and his face contorted into a muzzle. A tail grew from the base of his spine, and at last, when it was done, Simon sat trembling beside his uncle’s grave.

  Somehow, impossibly, he was a wolf.

  The moonlight caught his eye, and Simon threw his head back and howled.

  This electronic edition published in 2016 by Bloomsbury Publishing Plc

  Copyright © 2016 by Aimée Carter

  All rights reserved.

  You may not copy, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (including without limitation electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, printing, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

  First published in the United States of America in February 2016 by Bloomsbury Children’s Books

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  Bloomsbury is a registered trademark of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc

  For information about permission to reproduce selections from this book, write to Permissions, Bloomsbury Children’s Books, 1385 Broadway, New York, New York 10018 Bloomsbury books may be purchased for business or promotional use. For information on bulk purchases please contact Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at [email protected]

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Carter, Aimée.

  Simon Thorn and the wolf’s den/by Aimée Carter.

  pages cm

  Summary: Simon Thorn, twelve, is able to talk with animals, but when his mother is kidnapped by a herd of New York City rats he learns he, his mother, and his uncle are all Animalgams—able to change into an animal at will—and that Simon may be able to save the beleaguered Five Animal kingdoms.

  ISBN 978-1-61963-704-7 (hardcover) • ISBN 978-1-61963-705-4 (e-book)

  [1. Human-animal communication—Fiction. 2. Shapeshifting—Fiction. 3. Animals—New York (State)—New York—Fiction. 4. Adventure and adventurers—Fiction. 5. Kidnapping—Fiction. 6. New York (N.Y.)—Fiction.] I. Title.

  PZ7.C24255Sim 2015 [Fic]—dc23 2014032526

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  Aimee Carter, Simon Thorn and the Wolf's Den

 


 

 
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