by Aimee Carter
“I don’t—he isn’t conscious.” Jam’s voice caught, and nausea washed over Simon. All too clearly he could picture Darryl on the rooftop of Sky Tower, surrounded by a pool of blood as he took his last breath. He couldn’t let that happen to Jam. He wouldn’t.
“Come on,” he said. Taking the injured dolphin gently in his mouth, he began to swim, but Jam let out another anguished cry.
“The piece! It’s gone—Simon, the piece—it was in my mouth, and then—”
Another flash of Darryl. Simon swallowed his dread and screwed up as much courage as he could muster. “We’ll find it later,” he said, his words muffled around the General. “Let’s go.”
As they swam from the scene of the fight, the water began to clear, and Simon kept his eyes to the ground, hoping against hope to spot the crystal piece the underwater kingdom had protected for five centuries. Even if he returned once the General was safe, that would give the sharks plenty of time to search for it first.
The piece or the General’s life. It wasn’t really a choice at all. Beside him, he heard Jam choke on a sob, and without hesitating, Simon sped up and away from the cloud of ink. He had sworn to himself no one else would die because of his hunt for the pieces of the Predator, and with a heavy heart, he didn’t look back.
In order to get the General up the slippery tunnel, Simon had to shift into a bear, and together he and Jam hoisted the injured dolphin onto his back. Once the General was situated, Jam held his father in place while Simon carefully navigated his way up to the basement of the compound.
It was a risk, but he only shifted back into his human form once they reached the elevator. As soon as they were safely inside, Jam pressed the button, and Simon knelt beside the General, searching for a heartbeat. He’d lost so much blood—too much, Simon thought. Especially for a dolphin. But while he had no idea where to check for a pulse, he did see his body move as he breathed.
“Is he …?” said Jam, his voice shaking.
“He’s alive,” said Simon. But the movement was faint, and he silently urged the elevator to rise faster.
The doors opened on the first floor, near security. “Help!” yelled Jam as loud as he could. “Someone, help!”
A pair of guards came running, and as soon as they spotted the injured dolphin, they too began to shout. Before Simon knew it, a crowd of soldiers had arrived, including several with red medic armbands. While Jam watched their efforts to help his father, Simon stood beside him, trying not to think the worst. But he didn’t have to know much about dolphin anatomy to know the General was in rough shape.
“Benjamin?” Rhode appeared in the crowd, her face ashen. Rather than bark at her brother, she immediately swept him up in a tight hug. Simon stepped back and stared at his feet. “What happened? The General said—he said he was taking you for a swim—”
“To move the piece of the Predator,” said Jam. His eyes were red, and somewhere in the chaos, he had lost his glasses. Both his and Simon’s outfits were stained with blood. “We were attacked by sharks. The General—he was hurt—”
Rhode swallowed. “He’ll be okay,” she said, but they all knew she couldn’t promise him that. With her arm wrapped around her brother’s shoulders, they all watched as the medics lifted the bleeding dolphin onto a stretcher and rushed down the corridor. Rhode and Jam began to follow them, and Simon automatically tagged along, trailing behind to give them space.
“What are you doing?” said Rhode as she stopped suddenly, her gaze fixed on Simon. “Why are you here?”
“I—” Simon faltered and took a step back, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I just—”
“He helped me get the General up here,” said Jam, slipping out from his sister’s embrace.
Rhode narrowed her eyes. “How did you know where they would be?”
“I didn’t,” said Simon, lying as smoothly as he could manage. “I was looking for Felix, and—”
“He probably saved the General’s life,” interrupted Jam.
Rhode stared at Simon long enough to make his insides squirm, but he refused to look away. If she sensed the slightest weakness, he had no doubt she would attack, and he’d had enough of that tonight.
At last she turned away, instead leading her brother down the hallway past a cluster of guards. “Soldiers, alert the rest of the family about what’s happened. And see to it that Mr. Thorn makes it back to his room without any further side trips.”
The soldiers saluted, and Simon didn’t argue as one of them took his arm and guided him down the hallway. But as soon as they stepped toward the elevator, Simon dug in his heels. He could still see smears of blood on the floor. “We’re taking the stairs,” he insisted.
The soldier huffed, but didn’t force the issue. Instead they took the long way through the mirrored corridors to the staircase, and by the time they arrived in the guest area, Malcolm was pacing back and forth in the hallway. “Simon!” he shouted, hurrying up to them and pulling Simon into a tight hug. “Where have you been? We’ve been looking all over for you.”
“I was looking for Felix,” said Simon, sticking to the lie he’d told Rhode. “The General—”
“I’ve already been updated. The colonel’s called an emergency summit meeting.” Malcolm let him go, and much to Simon’s dismay, he was scowling. “You shouldn’t have gone anywhere without telling me first, Simon. You know how dangerous it is down here.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I couldn’t sleep,” he said miserably. Ariana and Winter appeared in their doorway, both looking worried. From the corner of his eye, Simon could see into his and Nolan’s room. His brother leaned against the wall, his arms crossed and his face like thunder.
Malcolm crouched down, studying him and his blood-stained clothing. “You’re all right?” said his uncle in a dubious voice.
Simon nodded, but that wasn’t true. Now that his adrenaline was fading, he could feel the deep ache of the sharks’ bites in his side and leg. His heart sank. Even without looking, he could tell the wounds would need stitches. How was he supposed to explain that?
Malcolm didn’t look entirely convinced, but he must have passed it off as shock from seeing the General injured. “Ariana and I have to go. Nolan, will you keep an eye on Simon until I get back?”
Nolan huffed. “Now he wants my help?” he said, but one look from Malcolm, and he clammed up.
“I’ll keep an eye on him,” said Winter, also not appearing terribly convinced Simon was all right. Malcolm cast one last look at him before hurrying a bleary-eyed Ariana down the hallway. Simon wasn’t sure what time it was, but judging by her yawn as she stumbled away, it had to be nearly midnight. With any luck, the emergency summit meeting would last until dawn, giving Simon time to figure out what to do—about both the piece and his wounds.
“If you were going to look for your stupid mouse, I could have helped,” muttered Nolan once their uncle was out of earshot. “You never trust me.”
“I’m sorry,” said Simon. “Next time, okay?”
Nolan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure. Next time,” he said before slamming the door in Simon’s face.
“Ignore him. He knows as much about what’s going on as a brain-dead amoeba,” said Winter coldly, glaring as if she could see him through the wall.
“Amoebas don’t have brains,” said Simon, though he didn’t protest as she took his hand and led him into her and Ariana’s room.
“Precisely.”
As soon as the door was closed, he collapsed on the nearer bed, wincing and pulling up his sweatshirt. There was a semicircle of teeth marks in his hip and abdomen, and the shirt underneath his hoodie was stained with his blood.
“What—Simon!” Winter grabbed the sheet and pressed it against his side, her bitterness blossoming into panic. “What happened?”
“You should see the other guys,” he said, trying to sound lighthearted, but it was difficult when Winter looked so frightened. He wilted. There was no use not telling her. She would find out e
ventually. “We lost the piece on the ocean floor. Orion probably has it by now, and if he doesn’t, he will soon.”
“I don’t care about the stupid piece. I care about the fact that you nearly got turned into sushi. What were you thinking?”
“A bunch of sharks attacked Jam and the General,” said Simon defensively. “If I hadn’t jumped in, they would have died.”
Her lips thinned. “You need to see a doctor.”
“Later. I need to go back in the water and find the piece before Orion does. Can you patch me up?”
Winter stared at him, stunned. “You’re crazy. Insane. Out of your mind.”
“I’m desperate,” he corrected.
“Same thing.”
He winced as she touched an especially painful spot. “I promise as soon as I get back, I’ll make up a story and see a doctor. Please, Winter.”
“But—”
“We can’t wait. If Orion’s convinced sharks to work for him, there’s no telling who else might be, too.”
She groaned. “I hate you right now,” she said, digging through her bag. “I have clean socks and duct tape. That’ll have to do.”
Simon didn’t ask why she had duct tape with her, and she didn’t offer an explanation. Winter wrapped the clean socks over his wounds like bandages, securing them in place with the tape. When he undressed to look at the wound on his leg, she was all business, never once making fun of him for sitting there in his underwear while she wrapped another pair of socks around the bite mark in his thigh. It was deeper than the other, and a few of his toes had gone numb. He didn’t mention that, though.
At last, once he’d gingerly pulled his jeans back on, he started toward the door. “If anyone checks on me—”
“I’ll tell them you’re asleep,” said Winter. “Be careful, all right?”
“I will,” he said, and he offered her a small smile. “Thanks, Winter.”
“Don’t thank me. Just don’t die.”
Simon didn’t make any promises. Ignoring the pain, he shifted into a fly and soared through the mirrored hallways, his new vision giving him a fractured, kaleidoscope view of everything around him. This might be the only chance he had to recover the underwater kingdom’s piece, and he couldn’t waste it.
11
BIRD’S-EYE VIEW
As Simon buzzed through the hallways, he quickly discovered he’d chosen wisely by shifting into something small. The compound was crawling with soldiers carrying weapons, and while steering clear of them completely was impossible, Simon made a point to keep his distance.
Getting caught wasn’t the only thing he had to worry about. As soon as he retraced his and Jam’s steps through the basement, he saw another pair of guards stationed at the mouth of the General’s secret exit into the ocean. With a sinking feeling, he buzzed as close as he dared and eyed the door. It was sealed shut around the edges. He had no way to sneak inside without someone noticing.
He flew around the corner and clung to the wall, trying to think. What were his other options? The planetarium? It was a good idea, until he remembered Al and Floyd, the great white sharks guarding the tunnel. This late, there was a chance they wouldn’t be there, but the thought of facing them without Jam acting as a buffer made a trickle of fear run through him. He was too injured to get into another skirmish and win no matter what he shifted into.
There had to be other ways out of the city. Entire armies were stationed here. There must have been some kind of hatch or door—
The submarine dock. Simon pushed off the wall and flew as fast as he could to the nearest stairwell. If there was a way out of Atlantis, it had to be near the dock.
Within minutes, Simon reached the edge of the city, where they’d arrived the day earlier. It was mostly quiet now, with half a dozen vessels docked in a tunnel beneath the glass floor as a handful of workers went about their business, but there was no clear way out. No signs, no labels, no doors—nothing.
Time to get creative, then. Landing near one of the airtight seals, he made sure no one was looking and then shifted into a tuna crab. The small red creature was impossible to miss, and as Simon scuttled across the floor, the nearest worker called out.
“Hey, how’d you get in here?” The worker crouched down and caught him. For one horrifying moment, Simon thought the worker would try to crush him, but instead he stood and headed toward a hatch in the floor that was easily the size of an elevator. “Jimmy, caught another one,” he called. “I thought you said you’d cleared that exit.”
“I did,” came a distant reply. “Must’ve wandered in with some cargo.”
Muttering, the first worker opened the sealed door and dropped Simon inside. He landed on his back, and by the time he’d figured out how to roll over, the worker had slammed the hatch shut, and an odd whooshing sound filled the airtight room.
Simon was on the verge of admitting that maybe this hadn’t been the best idea he’d ever had when a loud siren went off, and the door on the bottom of the hatch opened. With no warning, seawater rushed into the compartment, and Simon was carried off with the current into the cold ocean.
He wasted no time celebrating. Swimming away from the city, Simon shifted into an orca as soon as he was sure nothing was close enough to spot him in the dark water. Most of the other sea creatures gave him a wide berth as he swam toward Santa Catalina Island, and he used the killer whale’s echolocation to return to the area near Chum Bay where Jam had dropped the piece. Thanks to the orca’s size and speed, he arrived shortly after, not even out of breath. The ink the octopus had released had mostly dissipated by now, but there was still a hint of cloudiness in the water.
Despite that, it wasn’t hard to find the exact spot he was looking for. The sand where the General had been attacked was brown with blood, and Simon searched for any sign of the piece. It had dropped out of Jam’s mouth here—he had seen it. But no matter how hard he looked, there was no trace of it.
The octopus must have been working with the sharks, Simon reasoned. It had saved the sharks’ lives by releasing the cloud of ink, and that had also given the octopus time to snatch up the piece and bring it to Orion. Nauseated at the thought of his grandfather getting his hands on another piece of the Predator, Simon fought to stop himself from spiraling into despair. It wasn’t too late. The bird army would probably still be there—Simon could steal the piece back, and he would be gone before they found out.
Though he was dizzy with exhaustion and pain from the wounds on his side and leg, Simon pushed on and swam toward the cove. Every flip of his fins felt like hot knives sinking into his torso and thigh, and in his head, he could hear his mother’s voice warning him how dangerous this was. Winter’s joined hers, though her choice of word was stupid. Simon didn’t disagree with either of them, but what else was he supposed to do? This was what they had come to Atlantis for. He couldn’t give up now because it was harder than he thought it’d be.
As he approached the surface, he once again checked to make sure no one was watching. It was a dark, moonless night, and if anyone could see him from the beach or the sky, he couldn’t see them. Taking his chances, he shifted from an orca into a seagull and bobbed to the surface. They weren’t the fastest or most impressive of birds, but they would blend in, and right now, that was what he needed.
He took flight and soared toward the beach, where the bird army was camped out. Before arriving, he’d assumed everyone would be sleeping, but to his dismay, a bonfire crackled on the sand. Worse, as he grew closer, he spotted Orion and his lieutenant, Perrin, standing above what looked like a lumpy rock.
“… did it go?” said Orion, his voice low enough to blend in with the soft crash of waves. Simon flew closer, landing on a nearby branch.
“We don’t know.” The rock wasn’t a rock at all, but a man hunched over on the sand as he groveled. “Our allies were intercepted—”
“By what?” said Orion. “What could possibly defeat a gang of the toughest sharks on the coast? Or did you l
ie to me when you told me I could trust them?”
“No, no, not at all!” said the man. “The sharks want to see the seas returned to them, and they will do whatever you say, your lordship. They trust you.”
“And I trusted them, but here we are.” Orion limped across the sand, pacing in front of him. “How many were there?”
“How—how many what, your lordship?”
“How many attacked the sharks?”
“I—” He hesitated. “It was the General and his son, and—”
“How many were there?” Orion stopped in front of the man and, with the help of a long stick acting as a makeshift cane, knelt down so he was only a few inches away. “It’s a simple question. You were there, weren’t you?”
“I—yes, your lordship, but only from a distance—”
“Did someone betray me? Or was there security we did not anticipate?”
The man swallowed so hard his Adam’s apple bobbed. “There was an orca, your lordship. A savage beast that chased away the sharks and inflicted grave injury on several of our comrades.”
Orion straightened. “An orca just happened to be there, did it?” He glanced at Perrin before refocusing on the informant. “You’re dismissed.”
He didn’t argue. Standing on trembling legs, the man made a beeline back for the ocean, and as he ran into the water, he shifted into something long and slithery. An eel.
As soon as he disappeared, Orion turned to Perrin. “The twins are in Atlantis with the others, aren’t they?”
Perrin nodded and opened his mouth to speak, but a woman’s voice interrupted him.
“Nolan is a twelve-year-old boy. Even if the General did know about his … talents, Malcolm would never let him serve as security like that.”
Simon’s heart began to race. His mother. She was in the shadows, and he quietly flew toward her, landing in a closer tree. Farther from the bonfire, he could make out her silhouette sitting on a log. Now that he was hidden in the branches and away from other members of the flock, he shifted from a seagull into a great horned owl. Instantly the darkness that came with the seagull’s vision disappeared, and he could see every individual hair in his mother’s braid, along with the young blond man standing beside her—Rowan, Perrin’s son, who had chased Simon and his friends through Penn Station only a few months ago.
