by Aimee Carter
Despite the fact that they vastly outnumbered him, the snakes in the pit anxiously squirmed as far from him as they could get, with several abandoning their posts and hurrying to the safety of the moat above instead. Those that remained looked back and forth between Simon and each other.
“But—Your Majesty, we have sworn to protect it,” said a coral snake with red, yellow, and black bands.
“By giving it to me, you are protecting it,” said Simon. The vipers and cobras still hesitated, and he added, “Rivera ordered it. He’s waiting now.”
Reluctantly the snake shifted aside, and the ones beneath it did the same. Layer after layer of serpent moved until at last, at the very bottom of the pit, Simon spotted a triangular crystal glinting against the stone. It glowed from within as if calling to him, and he took a deep breath. The reptiles’ part of the Predator.
“For you, Your Majesty,” said the coral snake in a trembling voice, though it made no move to touch the piece. Knowing he had no choice, Simon slowly descended into the pit and over the waiting serpents, trying not to wince at the dry sound of scales against scales.
With no hands to carry the crystal, he grabbed it in his jaws and slithered back up. By the time he reached the top of the pit, he felt sick and dizzy with fear, but the flat faces staring back at him looked even more terrified.
“Simon!” shrieked Ariana from above, and his entire body went cold. Fast as he could, Simon slithered toward the exit, his heart racing.
Right before he reached the moat, he shifted back into a human and shoved the reptiles’ piece into his sock. It burned against his skin like his father’s watch, but he didn’t care. He didn’t have time to hide it, and he couldn’t risk carrying it in his pockets, not when that would be the first place someone would look for it. His sock would have to do for now.
“Ariana, what—” he began as he stepped into the harsh light, shielding his eyes.
“Hand it over, or your friends will die,” said a cold voice. Rivera. He stood at the foot of the glass bridge, and he grasped Ariana’s and Jam’s elbows. Both struggled against him, but their movements were sluggish.
“What did you do to them?” demanded Simon. He had seen Ariana and Jam take on fully grown adults and win; there was no way Rivera, with his skinny frame and the cut on his forehead spilling blood into his eyes, could have possibly held them both off without help.
“I bit them. As did several of my friends,” said Rivera, as if discussing nothing more than what he was going to have for breakfast. “If I don’t give them the antidote soon, well—we can only hope they don’t suffer. Now hand it over before I lose my patience.”
Simon’s vision swam, blurring around the edges. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do,” he said. “I don’t know how you got it, and I don’t know how many of my brave guards are dead down there—”
“I didn’t kill anyone,” said Simon, and Rivera sniffed.
“Hand it over.”
“I don’t—”
“Hand it over.”
“Are you deaf or just extremely stupid? He said he doesn’t have it,” said a new voice, and Rivera began to turn.
“Who—”
Thwack.
Rivera’s expression went blank and, seemingly in slow motion, he crumpled to the floor. Winter stood behind him, clutching the handles of her new designer purse like a weapon, her face pale but her eyes fiery.
“I really hate bullies,” she muttered, and she looked at Simon. “You have it, right?”
He nodded numbly, rushing forward to help Jam and Ariana sit. “We need to find the antidote.”
“It’s in his pocket,” said Winter, and she dug through Rivera’s jacket until she found several syringes. “Last night he told me he keeps multiple doses on him at all times, in case someone tries to assassinate him.”
“Wonder who would ever want to do that,” grumbled Simon. Uncapping a needle, he winced as he stuck it in Jam’s arm and pushed the plunger. “What do you have in that thing, anyway? A bowling ball?”
“Books,” said Winter as she tried to administer another dose to Ariana, but she batted Winter’s hand away and took the syringe shakily.
“I can do it.”
Ariana’s words were slurred, and Simon could have sworn she’d gone cross-eyed, but after fumbling a moment, she managed to inject the antidote into her arm. “Are you okay?” he said.
“I’ll live,” she said woozily. “We need to get out of here.”
Even if Simon believed her, one look at Jam’s vacant gaze told him neither of them was going anywhere right now. “You two stay here. I need to go help my uncle.”
“And what am I supposed to do? Babysit?” said Winter.
“Unless you’d rather go out and fight a bunch of alligators and cobras,” he said.
She blanched. “Don’t be ridiculous. There aren’t any real cobras in the United States,” she said, making no move to join him.
“Tell that to the dozens I just saw in the moat. Help Jam and Ariana onto the couches in the council’s chambers. I’ll be back soon,” he promised, but before he left the room, he approached the serpents huddled together at the far end of the moat. “You know who I am?”
“The Kingsnake,” they murmured, inching away.
“Exactly,” said Simon. “I need your help.”
A minute later, he ran past the elevators and into the lobby with at least a hundred snakes slithering after him. The fighting had mostly stopped now, and several mammals and reptiles nursed their injuries off to the sides of the room. In the center, amid broken furniture and torn artwork, two gray wolves circled each other.
Simon’s breath caught in his throat. Malcolm’s fur was matted with blood, and he limped heavily, favoring his front leg. Celeste, despite being ambushed, looked strong and whole as she bared her long teeth, saliva dripping from her muzzle.
“Don’t make me kill you, son,” she growled, her claws clicking against the marble floor.
“I’d like to see you try,” said Malcolm.
It was the rooftop with Darryl all over again, and Simon bit the inside of his lip so hard he tasted blood. Though the council members were giving the pair of wolves a wide berth for now, he had no doubt that if Malcolm managed to overcome his injuries and strike down Celeste, the reptiles would join the fight once more, and Malcolm would be too spent to make it out alive.
Fire filled Simon’s veins, and his skin felt as if it was bubbling while he fought the burning knot in his chest with everything he had. He was half an inch from losing control, but part of him wanted to. He wouldn’t stand by and watch another uncle die, and if that meant the entire Animalgam world knew his secret, fine.
“Now!” he cried, and the snakes that had followed him shot forward toward the pair of wolves. Malcolm danced out of the way, but Celeste stood there, bemused as the serpents surrounded her.
“What’s going on?” she demanded. “Rivera!”
“He’s a little busy right now,” said Simon, flexing his hands as his fingers threatened to once again curl into claws. “If you don’t leave immediately, these snakes are going to bite you. And they’re going to keep biting you until I tell them to stop.”
Celeste stared at him. “How—”
“They’re my friends,” he said. “And none of them will let you hurt Malcolm.”
“What is the meaning of this?” said an alligator near the edge of the room. “The snakes are under our command—”
“We follow the boy. The small wolf must leave,” said a diamondback with a shake of its rattle, and the other snakes hissed in agreement.
Slowly Celeste backed away. “This isn’t over,” she growled, and a handful of mammals stepped aside, leaving her a clear path to the door.
“Sure about that?” said Zia, still in her fox form. Celeste snarled, but made no move to attack as she saw herself out.
The remaining members of the council all watched silently, seemingly d
umbfounded as the vipers and cobras drove Celeste through the exit and closed the door firmly behind her. Even Simon was stunned it had actually worked, and it was only when his uncle shifted back into a human that he managed to speak.
“Celeste isn’t the Alpha anymore. Malcolm is,” he said. “And you’re going to respect that, all right?”
Several council members shifted back, including the alligator who had spoken out. They whispered to one another for a moment, their heads bent, and finally the alligator Animalgam spoke. “If the mammal kingdom recognizes Malcolm Thorn as their Alpha, then so shall we,” he said grudgingly. “However, we had a deal with Celeste that we request the Alpha upholds.”
“Orion’s on the mountain,” said Simon to his uncle. “He’s been threatening the council. Celeste promised to take care of it for them.”
“I’ll send members of my kingdom to help. The flock will be out of your hair in a few days,” said Malcolm. His shirt was torn, there were deep scratches on his neck, and he cradled his right arm to his chest, but he still radiated strength and power.
“Thank you,” said the councilman. “The sooner they are gone—”
“The piece!” A shrill voice rang from the corridor. Rivera stumbled toward them, running his hand over the wall to keep himself upright. A purple lump had formed on the side of his head. “The brat has the piece!”
Immediately all eyes turned to Simon, and the heat in his sock seemed to grow. “I don’t have anything,” he lied. “I have no idea what he’s talking about.”
“You took it.” Rivera lurched past the elevators and reached for the edge of the front desk, barely managing a grip. “I know you took it.”
“I was rescuing my friends,” said Simon as the members of the council inched toward him. Several of the mammals began to growl. “I don’t know where your piece is, but I do know you poisoned Ariana and Jam. They’re okay now,” he added over his shoulder to Malcolm, who limped to Simon’s side. “Winter and I gave them the antidote.”
“Is that true?” said Malcolm to Rivera. “You tried to kill the general’s son and the Black Widow Queen’s daughter? I suppose angering my kingdom wasn’t enough for you, then?”
“I—” Rivera’s face went white. “They were getting away—”
“I’m sure their parents will understand,” said Malcolm, setting a hand protectively on Simon’s back. “Now may we go, or do we have to fight our way out?”
“But he has the piece!” wailed Rivera, and he pushed off against the desk, staggering toward Simon. “You cannot allow him to leave—”
“As a matter of fact, I have just seen our piece with my own eyes,” said Crocker in his low, rumbling voice. Leaning heavily on his cane, he walked toward them, his tortoiseshell glasses perched on top of his head. “It is exactly where it belongs, Rivera.”
Simon tried not to let his shock show. If Crocker had really looked, he would have known the piece was no longer at the bottom of the snake pit. Whatever Crocker’s reasons for helping Simon were, though, he wasn’t going to argue.
“But . . .” Rivera looked wildly from the council to Crocker to Simon. “He has it—he must—I saw him—”
“The piece is safe,” hissed the diamondback, shaking its rattle from its spot on the marble floor. Though the snakes continued to keep their distance from Simon, he felt an enormous swell of gratitude for their loyalty.
“It seems to me, Rivera, that you have sustained a significant head injury in this unfortunate misunderstanding, which has muddled your memory and clouded your judgment,” said Crocker. “We will have a doctor examine you, and once you are well, we will discuss your place within the council. I doubt the general and the Black Widow Queen will take kindly to hearing about your treatment of their children, and the last thing we need is to risk endangering our peace treaties with the underwater and insect kingdoms.”
The members of the council murmured among themselves, several nodding in agreement. Rivera’s eyes widened, and it may have been the concussion or the shock of losing everything in one fell swoop, but either way, he sank to the floor and buried his face in his hands. Crocker limped around him as if he were nothing more than furniture.
“I will make sure the doctor sees to the injured mammals as well, and you are welcome to stay for as long as your recovery demands,” he said to Malcolm, bowing his head. “My deepest apologies. Now that we are aware of the shift in power in your kingdom, I assure you such mistakes will not happen again.”
“Thank you,” said Malcolm, bowing his head in return. “You have our continued friendship. Now, Simon—bring me to Mr. Fluke and Miss Webster. I must insist a doctor see them first.”
“Of course, of course,” said Crocker, and he gestured down the hallway. “Ronnie, have the receptionist call the doctor immediately.”
The bearded dragon appeared from behind a framed painting that had fallen off the wall. “Aye, mate,” he said in his thick accent, and he ran off at an impressive speed, clearly eager to get as far from the mammals as possible. Or maybe it was the vipers. Simon couldn’t tell.
Simon led his uncle to the council’s chambers, where Ariana and Jam already looked far better than they had before. Simon filled them in on everything that had happened in the lobby, and while Ariana looked decidedly smug at Rivera’s fate, the color drained from Jam’s face all over again.
“There are how many snakes loose in the hotel?”
“Don’t worry,” said Simon. “They’re back in the moat now, and I don’t think they’re ever going to bother you again.”
“I should hope not,” grumbled Malcolm. “Come on—let’s get you back to your room. As soon as the doctor clears you two, we’re taking the first flight back to New York.”
This time, Simon didn’t argue. After everything that had happened, he wanted nothing more than to put as much distance between him and Paradise Valley as possible. Part of him—a much bigger part than he wanted to admit—ached at the thought of leaving his mother behind, but she had left him, he reminded himself. She had chosen to stay with Orion.
As they shuffled out of the council chambers, Simon spotted Crocker and Zia speaking quietly in a corner, their heads bent together and Zia’s hand on his arm. Did she have something to do with why Crocker had lied for him? It was crazy, but after the past three days, Simon wasn’t willing to rule anything out.
The doctor insisted Jam and Ariana would be well enough to travel the following day, but in the meantime, he ordered them both to rest. Though Ariana argued, swearing she felt fine, Jam disappeared to take a long bath, claiming the desert air had dried him out.
“So,” said Malcolm over lunch in the living room of their suite. “Are you coming with us, Winter, or have you decided to stay with your grandfather?”
“He’s not my grandfather,” she said, wrinkling her nose as she took a sip of tea. “I mean, maybe biologically, but blood isn’t everything.”
“No, it isn’t,” agreed Malcolm quietly. “Sometimes the family you choose is far better than the one you’re born into.”
“Yeah, sometimes it is,” she agreed, catching Simon’s eye. He quickly looked away, tearing off a piece of roll for Felix to eat. The little mouse had spent nearly an hour berating him for leaving in the first place, and Simon couldn’t blame him. If Felix had disappeared like that, he would have worried, too.
“Does that mean I should buy another ticket to New York, then?” said Malcolm, and Winter nodded.
“Actually—” Simon paused, his gaze drifting to the purse sitting at Winter’s feet. “I need to talk to Zia first, but do you think we could stop in Chicago?”
“Chicago?” said Malcolm. Winter groaned.
“Simon, no—”
“You know it’s the right thing to do,” he said, and to Malcolm he added, “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t really important.”
His uncle sighed and took a bite of his burger. “If it means that much to you, I can make sure our flight connects in Chicago.”
“Probably,” said Simon, but he had to try. Even though he couldn’t have his mother, he could make sure another family had each other. Safe and sound.
City Mouse
The next morning, they all gathered in the lobby at dawn. Several members of the council joined them to say their good-byes, and Crocker patted Simon on the head, insisting he keep up the good work. Simon’s curiosity nearly got the better of him, and twice he had to stop himself from asking Crocker why he had lied to the council. Maybe Crocker hadn’t realized he was lying, Simon rationalized; maybe he thought he really had seen the piece of the Predator in the snake pit.
Zia waited near the door, her arms crossed and her foot propped up against the wall as she watched Simon approach. Four stitched-up claw marks ran down her exposed shoulder, and every time Simon looked at her, he was reminded once again of what she had risked to give him the chance to save his friends.
“So, back to the big city,” she said. “Knew you weren’t much of a country mouse.”
“The desert’s a little sandy for me,” said Simon, and she grinned. Pulling a card from her pocket, she offered it to him.
“If there’s ever anything you need, call, all right?”
Simon took it dubiously. “Thanks,” he said, tucking it into his pocket.
“I mean it.” She straightened and unfolded her arms, leaning in closer to him. “You’re not always going to get this lucky. If there’s ever anything I can do—anything at all—you will let me know. You’re not alone, Simon. Remember that.”
A shiver ran down his spine, and he nodded, now certain she knew far more than he realized. However, with Malcolm hovering only a few feet away, trying to extract himself from an especially long good-bye courtesy of one of the female councilmembers, now wasn’t the time to ask Zia for details.
“Actually, there is something you could do for me,” he said, and she raised an eyebrow.
“That was fast.”
