by Aimee Carter
Jam balled up the wrapper of his now-eaten sandwich and said slowly, “That’s all right. You don’t have to know.”
“But what if Orion isn’t in Arizona?” said Simon, and he glanced at the bruises on the side of Winter’s face. “Or what if someone gets hurt again?”
“We all know what could happen. We’re here because we want to help you find your mom, not because we think you have a foolproof plan.” Jam gave him a wry half grin, his glasses falling down the bridge of his nose. “Besides, it’s more exciting this way. I never got to be spontaneous before I met you.”
Simon sighed. “I just . . . after what happened to my uncle . . .”
“That wasn’t your fault,” said Jam. “And that kind of thing isn’t going to happen this time. We’re in this together, and you can trust us, Simon. We’ll watch your back.”
“That’s kind of what I’m afraid of,” he said miserably.
Jam straightened and pulled his padlock from the pocket in his jeans, fiddling with the lock pick still stuck inside. “The general planned my whole life for me,” he said. “I’ve had a daily schedule since I could walk. That’s just how we do things underwater—if you leave no room for error, there won’t be any. But there’s no room for fun, either, or figuring things out on your own, and that’s what I like to do. I like swimming off in the wrong direction to explore a cave I’ve never seen before, and I like having an hour or two where I can do anything I want. But our kingdom is so big that if everyone did their own thing, nothing would ever get done, so I always feel like I’m stuck in a routine I can’t stand.”
From what he had seen of the underwater section at the Den, Simon had always had the impression that Jam didn’t fit in with the rest of his kingdom. Hearing him talk now only confirmed it, and he frowned. “It’s okay to be different. It’s good to be different.”
“I know it is,” said Jam. “But when you’re supposed to be the leader of the whole kingdom one day . . .”
“Maybe it’s time you shake things up,” said Simon. “Change isn’t always a bad thing.”
“I know. I like change. I like being different. And I like not always knowing what’s going to happen, even if that means I get into trouble more than I should. But the general hates it when I’m someone he doesn’t think I should be.”
“I like who you are,” said Simon firmly. “And I’ll explore as many caves with you as you want.”
Jam turned pink and tugged on the padlock, but it refused to open. “Thanks, Simon. You’d be surprised what sort of stuff you can find. Plus, knowing our way around the caves will come in handy if we ever have to hide from a hungry shark, right?”
Simon didn’t want to think about being chased by any creature with that many teeth, but he nodded. “It’s good to be prepared.”
“The general does always say preparation is the key to success,” said Jam with a small grin. “That’s why I’m trying to learn how to pick this stupid lock. Because maybe one day, I’ll be stuck in a cage, and this will be my only way out.” He offered it to Simon. “Do you want to try? I have an extra set of lock picks you can keep, if you want. Ariana gave me two just in case I lost one.”
Simon took the lock and studied it. Right now, he had to prepare himself for a lot of things. He had no idea what they would be facing in Arizona, and he needed to be ready for the possibility that his mother wouldn’t be there. For the possibility that Orion and the flock would capture him. For the possibility that, despite his best efforts, he would fail miserably and never see his brother or Malcolm again.
There was a possibility he would succeed, too. That was the whole reason they were doing this, after all—because if there was even a chance Simon could save his mother, he had to give it everything he had.
For the next hour, Jam showed him how to jiggle the two long metal tools in order to trick the mechanism into opening. It wasn’t too difficult once Simon got the hang of it, and after he and Jam had opened the lock several times, Simon slid the second set of lock picks into his pocket beside his father’s watch, and they settled into their chairs for the night. Jam’s soft snores began almost immediately, but with the way Simon’s thoughts raced now that he had nothing to hold them at bay, he was sure he would never fall asleep.
He must have at some point, however, because later—much later, judging by the quiet of the train car—his eyes snapped open. His forehead was pressed against the cold window, and he could feel a small trail of drool down the corner of his mouth. Wiping his face with his sleeve, he glanced at the others, but they were all sleeping, too.
Annoyed at himself for waking up, he shut his eyes again and tried to fall back asleep, but after a minute of this, he gave up and made his way to the bathroom instead. After he had done his business, he stared at his reflection in the mirror as he washed his hands. The harsh fluorescent light overhead made him look paler than usual, and there were dark circles beneath his eyes that he had never seen before. It was no wonder—they had been on the run for more than two days now, but it felt much longer.
He braced himself as the train pulled to a stop at one of the many smaller stations between Chicago and Arizona. After drying his hands, he slipped out of the bathroom and closed the door quietly, not wanting to wake any of the sleeping passengers. The car was dark and quiet, and Simon hoped the lull of the train would help him get back to sleep.
As he took a step toward his seat, however, a hand clamped over his mouth. Simon’s eyes widened, but before he could protest, he was pulled through the door and off the train, spilling out onto the cold, dark platform.
Stone Fox
Simon fought his abductor with all his might, kicking and yelling into the warm palm stifling his cries for help. He struggled against the unyielding grip that held him in place on the platform, but it was no use. Whoever had him was much stronger than he was, and despair filled him as he watched the train start to move once more. His friends wouldn’t realize he was missing until morning, and by then—
“Would you hold still?” his captor demanded in a deep, unfamiliar voice, but Simon wasn’t about to let him win that easily. He tried to yank his arm from the man’s grip, and a shot of pain ran through his shoulder.
“You’re going to hurt yourself,” said another voice. A young woman stepped into the light, her copper hair flaming. She looked Simon up and down, as if deciding whether he was big enough to serve as an entrée, or if he would have to do as an appetizer. “You can let him go now, Keval. He has nowhere to run.”
The meaty hand over his mouth disappeared, as did the arm holding him upright. Simon stumbled forward, and the woman held out a hand to stop him from plowing into her. “I need to get back on the train,” he sputtered. “My friends—”
“Which friends? Those friends?” The woman pointed across the train tracks. Simon whipped around. On the other side of the platform stood Jam and Winter with their bags at their feet. More goons crowded around them, blocking any chance they had to escape, and one held a plastic container half the size of a shoebox.
“Jam! Winter!” he called. Neither of them struggled against their kidnappers, but Winter looked especially pale, while Jam’s glasses were askew and he kept glancing nervously at the box.
“Simon, we’re okay,” he called. “They trapped Ariana.”
“She’s fine,” said the copper-haired woman. “We’ll take good care of her, don’t worry.”
Simon shivered in the cold night air, and he wrapped his arms around himself. “You have to let us go. We don’t have any money—”
“I don’t want your money.” She started to walk the length of the platform toward a staircase, and the man—Keval—nudged Simon forward, forcing him to follow. Simon dragged his feet, keeping an eye on his friends on the other side of the tracks.
“Then what do you want?” said Simon.
“A vintage motorcycle. World peace. A decent partner in crime.” She turned back to look him up and down once more. “Admittedly I wouldn’t say no
to a billion dollars, either, but you’ll do for now, Simon Thorn.”
In that moment, as his pulse raced and the world around him tilted, it took everything Simon had not to shift and fly away. Of course the flock wouldn’t be the only birds after them. Orion had agents all around the country. It was only a matter of time before others tracked him down, too.
Once they were all at the bottom of the platform, the two groups merged, and Simon snatched his backpack from one of the goons that surrounded them as they marched down a dusty sidewalk. He wasn’t sure where they were headed—from the few streetlights nearby, the town didn’t look very big at all.
“You don’t have to do this,” he said. “Whatever Orion told you—”
“Orion?” The woman laughed. “You think we have anything to do with that molted birdbrain?”
Simon frowned. “But—”
“We’re the good guys, Simon,” she said, twisting around to grin at him.
“Yeah?” said Winter in a shaking voice. “Last time I checked, good guys don’t kidnap people.”
“And last time I checked, children aren’t allowed to travel across the country without parental approval,” she said easily. “I take it you’re Winter Rivera.”
The loss of her anonymity seemed to startle Winter into silence, and she sniffed, neither confirming nor denying.
“And you . . .” The woman looked at Jam. “You’re Benjamin Fluke, son of General Fluke. The spider in the box is Ariana Webster, daughter of the Black Widow Queen. If we weren’t on your side, we could make a good chunk of that billion off the ransom alone.”
“Lucky us,” muttered Simon. None of this was making him feel any better. “How do you know who we are?”
“I know everything,” she deadpanned. “And the Alpha offered a reward for your safe return. I’m surprised you got this far, considering every mammal community in the country is keeping an eye out for you.”
So Malcolm was looking for them. This shouldn’t have surprised Simon, but for some reason, it did. He hadn’t thought about what his uncle would do once they escaped from the Den. Then again, he hadn’t thought much of this through at all.
“Hold up,” said the burly man who had snatched Simon from the train. “We have company.”
On instinct, Simon looked up toward the twinkling night sky. A pair of hawks circled overhead, and soon several more raptors joined them. Simon stiffened, ready to run, but the woman stood her ground.
“Really? That’s all you brought?” she called. “I thought your kind was supposed to be smart.”
“You will release the boy into my custody, or you will face the consequences,” said an all-too-familiar voice. Simon blanched. So Perrin had managed to follow them after all. But if the flock had known where they were the whole time, why hadn’t they tried to grab them?
Because they were on a train headed to Arizona anyway, Simon realized. Why would they risk losing them again when Simon was running straight for Orion?
“This is my territory, and in case you haven’t heard, birds aren’t welcome,” said the copper-haired woman as the flock circled lower. She was thin and didn’t look very strong, but she moved like a predator—like she was enjoying the challenge of facing down a dozen birds. “So unless you’re in the mood to die, I’d recommend leaving.”
The hawk puffed up, and Simon could practically feel the indignation radiating from him. “You have no idea who you’re threatening.”
“Oh, I have some,” she said with a wicked smile. Around her, the others elbowed one another and seemed to position themselves in some sort of formation, and the birds flew close enough for Simon to see their sharp talons.
“I will give you one last chance,” said Perrin. “Release the boy, and we will leave you to your fleas. If you do not do as I command, I will slaughter every last member of your pack and wear your furs as trophies.”
The woman sighed theatrically. “Is that how it’s going to be?” she said, her eyes dancing. “All right, if you insist. I could use a good fight, and it has been a while since I’ve had chicken for dinner.”
A hair-raising screech filled the empty street, and a chorus of cries followed. Before the flock could attack, however, the humans formed a ring around Simon and his friends, and the adults began to shift. One man turned into an opossum; another shifted into an armadillo. Dogs, gophers, beavers, even a donkey—Simon could barely keep track.
The birds dived toward the mammals, screaming threats and curses. Winter shrieked while Jam ducked his head, and the three of them huddled together in the center of the melee. Talons clawed at fur, teeth ripped out feathers, and in the midst of it all, Simon saw the woman leap from the dusty street toward Perrin, shifting into a red fox midair.
The hawk was too quick for her, though, and by the time she had shifted completely, Perrin had already flown far out of reach. The fox snarled and weaved between the legs of a coyote, darting toward them.
“Come on, while they’re distracted,” she said, nodding toward an opening in the circle. Simon hesitated for a fraction of a second. The mammals had kidnapped them, after all, but he hastily shook off his doubts and followed her.
As they hurried through the fighting Animalgams, Simon bent down to snatch the discarded plastic box. “Are you okay?” he said to the spider inside. If Ariana responded, he couldn’t hear her, but she managed a wave with one of her legs.
“Catch them!” cried Perrin from above, and the few birds that weren’t tangled up with the mammals soared toward them. Simon raced after the others, tucking the box underneath his arm.
The fox swore. “If you could all run a little faster, now would be the time to do it.”
“Sorry we don’t all have four legs,” shot Winter as they raced down the street toward the darkness. “Please tell me there are more of you somewhere.”
“If it’ll make you run faster, sure,” said the fox. Simon broke out in a sprint.
“Where are we going? There’s nothing out there,” said Jam, already breathless. “It’s just desert.”
The fox dropped back behind them and snapped at his heels. “You can either trust me, or you can get abducted by birds. Your choice.”
If Jam was right and they were heading toward nothing, then Simon wasn’t so sure it was much of a choice at all. He searched the sky. Three members of the flock, Perrin included, still followed them.
“Keep going,” he said to the others, skidding to a stop and setting the box and his backpack down. By the time their protests reached his ears, he had already shifted into a golden eagle and was climbing through the air toward the flock. Maybe it was stupid—maybe it was reckless. But they were only chasing his friends because of him. This way, they might have a chance to escape.
He swooped toward Perrin and the falcons that had followed them. The only bird of prey Simon had ever gone up against was his grandfather, Orion, who was also a golden eagle, so he expected that the members of the flock would be as big as he was. But immediately he realized how wrong he was.
Simon, despite being young, was already twice Perrin’s size. His wingspan dwarfed the hawk’s, and as he barreled toward Perrin, the other members of the flock screeched and fled back toward the fight on the ground.
“Leave us alone,” shouted Simon, and with his outstretched talons, he caught Perrin’s wing and dragged him back toward the brawl in town. “If you ever lay a feather on one of my friends, I’ll make sure you never fly again.”
With strength he hadn’t known he possessed, he flung Perrin’s delicate bird body toward a waiting coyote. The older hawk spiraled toward the ground, and for one heart-stopping second, Simon thought he’d accidentally snapped his neck. But at last Perrin spread his wings, catching a current before the coyote could take a bite out of him.
“Brothers!” he shouted, tumbling through the air toward Simon once more. “With me!”
But no one joined him. The rest of the birds were too busy battling the mammals, and the feathers that littered the g
round made it clear who was winning the fight. Somehow, despite being nowhere as big as the wolves and bears that populated the L.A.I.R., this ragtag bunch of mammals was holding its own against the flock.
Perrin was halfway to Simon when he realized he was alone. With a furious shriek, he flashed his talons at Simon. “This isn’t over,” he cried, and at last he circled back toward the skirmish. “Retreat!”
The remaining members of the flock soared upward to join him, leaving the growling mammals behind. Simon stayed in the air as he watched them turn sharply to follow the train tracks, disappearing into the darkness.
He’d done it. He’d really scared Perrin off. Dazed and amazed, he flew back toward his friends, diving through the air until he reached them.
“The flock’s gone,” he shouted. “You don’t have to run anymore.”
Simon landed beside his discarded backpack, and as soon as he shifted back into a human, he opened the box that held Ariana. She crawled onto the ground and shuddered. “That was fun,” she muttered.
“Sorry,” said Simon, kneeling on the crumbling dirt. It wasn’t quite a desert, but it wasn’t exactly grass, either. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” In a split second, her human form reappeared. “I guess we’ll have to find another way to Arizona.”
“Guess so,” said Simon as Jam and Winter joined them, trailed by the red fox.
“Why did he fly away?” said Jam, staring up at the starry sky with his mouth hanging open. “The flock never gives up like that.”
“I don’t know,” said Simon, still shocked. “I guess I’m bigger than he is.”
“Or he didn’t expect you to attack him head-on,” said the fox. She shifted back into a human and examined a shallow cut on her forearm. “Nothing like a good brawl to get the blood flowing. Good work, Simon.” She stuck her hand out, and Simon noticed it was decorated with smaller battle scars. “I’m Zia Stone, by the way. Thanks for your help. That was brave of you, attacking Perrin like that. If you were older, I’d buy you a drink.”
