Simon Thorn and the Viper's Pit

The entire council broke out into frantic discussion, and Simon could only catch snippets. “Two months?” said one council member.

  “And no one told us?”

  “That’s long enough for—”

  “Do you think he’s—”

  “—why else would he—”

  “Perhaps he’s only protecting his line—”

  “Don’t be naive—”

  “Should we—”

  “—hidden for a decade—”

  “Enough.” Crocker’s deep voice echoed throughout the room, and the council fell silent. “Have there been reports of increased activity from the bird kingdom in the past two months?”

  Rivera cleared his throat. “No increase, no, and no sign of the flock on Beak Peak.” His lip curled with disdain.

  Crocker refocused on Simon. “How did you discover Orion had taken your mother here?”

  “A—a friend tipped me off.”

  “And you didn’t think the information credible enough to bring the pack with you?”

  Winter jumped in, breaking Rivera’s hold on her arm. “I thought the pack would never let me leave the L.A.I.R., so I asked my friends not to tell the mammals.”

  Crocker harrumphed. “And instead you sent them on a wild-goose chase across the country.”

  Simon shrugged. “We—we just wanted to make sure Winter could return to her family.”

  “And so you did,” said Rivera, joining Winter once more. “As joyful as this news is, we must focus on the problem that comes with it. Isabel Thorn is the only one outside this room who knows where—” Rivera glanced at Simon, Jam, and Ariana. “—where it is hidden. If she’s under Orion’s thumb—”

  “We have no proof of this, nor do we have any reason to doubt Isabel’s trustworthiness,” said Crocker.

  “Trustworthiness has nothing to do with whether she’ll sing like a canary if Orion finds something to hold over her,” said Rivera. “We were fools to allow her access in the first place. Now is the time to remedy that and move it to a location only we know.”

  “If the boy is correct and the flock is hiding out, they could very well be waiting for that exact plan,” said Crocker. “Perhaps this is all a trick to get us to reveal it in the first place.”

  Simon wasn’t an idiot—he knew exactly what they were talking about. His mother was the only person who knew where all five pieces of the Predator were, and when she had secretly made copies for an oblivious Celeste, she must have helped the reptiles hide the real piece again. He couldn’t blame the council for not trusting her, not when she was being held captive by the bird kingdom, but the idea that he would ever help Orion made his blood boil.

  “Orion killed my uncle,” he said. “He kidnapped my mother, and he’s—” He was planning on killing his brother, but Simon couldn’t say that without revealing Nolan’s abilities. “He’s holding her hostage,” he said instead. “I would never do anything to help him.”

  “Do you know what he plans on doing with her?” said Crocker, peering at him over the rim of his glasses.

  “I—no,” said Simon, his heart pounding. Playing dumb was the only option he had right now. If the council knew he was looking for the piece, too, they would definitely move it, and maybe Crocker was right. Maybe that was exactly what Orion was waiting for.

  One of the women closest to him hissed. “He smells like fear and lies.”

  “Everyone smells like fear and lies to you, Lissa,” said Crocker tiredly. “Why do you think Orion took your mother, young man?”

  Simon’s eyes darted toward Ariana, who watched him intently, almost like she was trying to silently communicate with him. Simon wished they had thought to get their cover story straight earlier. “Because she’s loyal to the mammals,” he said at last. “Because she’s his heir, and she’s spent years running away from him. Because—because—” He faltered, his shoulders slumping. “I don’t know, and I don’t really care. I just want her back. I’ve never had much of a chance to get to know her. She visited a couple times a year, but she never stayed long, and—all I want is a family.”

  Several long moments passed. Crocker sighed and removed his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. “We will not move it.”

  A cry of protest rang out from several of the others, and Rivera fumed. “I insist on a vote.”

  “By all means, but you heard the boy,” said Crocker. “Isabel has been missing for two months, yet it has remained safe so far. If Orion has gone this long without accomplishing his mission, it is best to stick to the status quo. As it stands, theft would be impossible. There is no safer place in our kingdom regardless of what knowledge may or may not be passed on to Orion. Let that be a comfort to all.” He stood and reached for his cane. “You know my vote. Now, if you do not mind, I have an opera to catch. While the rest of you debate the matter, I suggest you see to it that the children are taken care of. They shouldn’t be forced to sit around all evening and listen to you yammer on.”

  “We are hungry,” said Winter.

  “See? Give them a hot meal and a place to sleep, and then you’ll be free to argue for as long as you dusty lot like.” Crocker tipped Simon an enormous wink, and as he limped out of the room, Ronnie waddled toward them, his beady eyes on Rivera.

  “Your Honor, if you’d like me to escort the children upstairs . . .”

  “Yes, yes. You’ll stay in the family suite, of course,” he added to Winter. “Your mother’s room has been untouched since she . . . disappeared, and I think you might like it in there.”

  “I’m sure I will,” said Winter, and she added under her breath, “Anything’s better than that train.”

  “And you three—” Rivera looked at Simon again. “Are you a fan of the early Renaissance, or do you prefer postmodernism?”

  Simon and Ariana exchanged blank looks. Jam, however, said cheerfully, “I’ve always liked Impressionism.”

  “Ah, a boy after my own heart. Yes, I have just the room for you. Ronnie, the Monet suite, if you will.”

  Leaving Rivera and the rest of the council members behind, Ronnie led the four of them back into the statue room. Simon’s pocket watch grew warm once more, and it was then that he realized it had cooled in the council’s chambers. The warmth vanished in the hallway, though, and by the time they reached the elevator bay, Simon gave up trying to make sense of it.

  “What’s Beak Peak?” he said as they waited for an elevator. Ronnie’s tail twitched.

  “It’s our kingdom’s clever little nickname for the mountain overlooking the hotel. When the flock’s in town, that’s where they stay. Like the view, they claim, but really they just like looking down on us.” The elevator doors opened, and Ronnie led them inside. “Tenth floor, if you will, mate.”

  Simon punched the button. “And they’re not there right now?”

  “There are always some birds hanging about, but no sign of Orion lately.”

  Simon saw Ariana raise an eyebrow, and he shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at his feet.

  As soon as the elevator opened again, a pair of guards cornered them. “Floor’s closed to guests,” said the taller of the pair.

  Ronnie’s throat grew dark again. “Rosencrantz. Guildenstern. This is Councilman Rivera’s granddaughter, Winter. She’ll be staying in the family suite, while her friends stay in the Monet suite. It’s all been approved by Rivera himself, I assure you.”

  The two burly men eyed them up and down. “Go ahead,” muttered one, stepping aside to let them pass.

  As they turned down another opulent corridor, Winter glanced over her shoulder. “Are those their real names?”

  “What? No, of course not,” said Ronnie. “Can’t be bothered to tell them apart from the other guards, can I? They’re all Rosencrantz and Guildenstern to me.”

  “Other guards?” said Simon, and Ronnie looked back at him.

  “Full of questions today, aren’t you?”

  Simon shrugged. “Just curious.”

  Ronnie stop
ped in front of a corner room. “Guards change every six hours, but they’re always here to secure the council’s private quarters.” He nodded to the door. “The Monet suite. Code 4477.”

  Simon punched the numbers into the keypad above the door handle, and the lock clicked. “What about Rivera’s suite?”

  “Right down the hall,” said Ronnie, using his tail to point. “If you need anything, ask the guards. They’ll make sure no one bothers you. And do yourself a favor and don’t open the balcony. Birds love dive-bombing us. It’s all sport to them, the miserable mongrels.”

  The suite was exactly what Simon was beginning to expect from the reptile kingdom: luxurious, rich, and covered in art. Stepping inside the sitting room felt more like stepping inside a museum, and Jam let out a low whistle.

  “The general would never approve of this waste of treasury funds,” he said, but he immediately flopped down on the overstuffed leather sofa anyway.

  “Someone will bring you dinner soon,” said Ronnie. “Winter, this way.”

  Despite the emotionless expression she still wore, Simon could see a flicker of fear in her eyes at the thought of leaving them. “You could stay in here, if you want,” he offered.

  “But—” said Ronnie.

  “I’ll go with Winter,” interrupted Ariana. “I don’t want to share a suite with you two anyway. When was the last time either of you showered?”

  Once they were alone, both Simon and Jam sniffed their shirts. “Anything?” said Simon, and Jam shook his head. “Me neither.”

  While Jam looked around the suite, which was big enough to house an entire family comfortably, Simon unzipped his backpack. “If you wander off in this place, a snake will eat you before I know you’re gone,” he warned as Felix nosed his way out from his socks.

  “I’d like to see them try,” he said grumpily. Simon shook his head.

  “I mean it, Felix. You wanted to come, so you have to follow my rules.”

  The little mouse scoffed. “Who died and made you Alpha?”

  His words hit Simon like a kick to the gut, and he clenched his fists, his breaths suddenly shallow. Felix seemed to realize his mistake as soon as he said it, and he climbed up Simon’s side.

  “C’mon, you know I didn’t mean it like that,” he said, perching on his shoulder. “I just meant—”

  “I don’t want you to die, too, okay?” said Simon thickly, scooping Felix up and setting him down on the sofa in front of the television. Felix’s tail drooped. “I don’t want anything to happen to you or Malcolm or Nolan or Winter or Jam or Ariana—”

  “Nothing’s going to happen to us.” Jam stood in the doorway to one of the bedrooms, already dressed in a fluffy bathrobe with a towel slung over his shoulder. “Ariana and I can take care of ourselves.”

  “Darryl could, too. And my mom. Look what happened to them,” said Simon, his jaw tightening.

  “It won’t happen to us,” said Felix. “We know who the bad guys are.”

  Simon raked his fingers through his hair. The problem was, right now everyone was trying to stop them somehow, even the good guys. “Rivera’s probably already called Malcolm. He’ll be here by morning.”

  “That gives us . . .” Jam checked his watch. “Twelve hours, maybe. If we’re lucky.”

  “I need to check out Beak Peak,” said Simon. “If Orion’s here—”

  “You can’t go alone. What if he is there?”

  “And what if my mother’s there, too? If you had wings, I’d ask you to come, but you don’t. Someone needs to stay here anyway, in case Ronnie checks on us.”

  “I don’t have wings, but you can carry me,” said Felix, standing on his hind legs. Simon shook his head.

  “You’re not going anywhere near the flock. They’d eat you for dinner.”

  Jam took a step toward him. “You can’t go, Simon. Not on your own. At least wait until Malcolm arrives—”

  “I’m not putting my uncle in danger. Not again,” he said firmly, moving toward the balcony. The lights from the city glowed around them, but a mountain rose up behind the hotel, a silent menace now that Simon knew what it held. “I’ll be back by morning. Whatever happens, make sure Orion doesn’t get the reptiles’ piece, all right?”

  Jam pursed his lips. “Okay, all right, just—be careful, will you? Don’t let them catch you.”

  “I’ll try,” said Simon, pushing open the balcony door. The night air was cool against his skin, and he took a deep breath and shifted into a golden eagle.

  With a soft cry, he launched himself off the balcony and into the sky, heading straight toward the mountain—and, with any luck, his mother.

  Beak Peak

  Simon soared through the air, circling the peak of the mountain. He had never been this high up before, and part of him didn’t want to look down. But he had to—because somewhere on that sandy slope had to be a clue about where his mother was. He just needed to find it.

  His vision in the dark was terrible, but at last he spotted movement at the very top of the peak, near what looked like a black hole mostly hidden by rocks and trees. Concealed by the night, he swooped down as a pair of hawks disappeared inside. Simon cautiously landed on a scraggly branch the next hill over. He couldn’t see anything, but his hearing had sharpened to make up for his impaired vision, and he could detect what sounded like human voices echoing from inside.

  He started to spread his wings to fly into the entrance, but he stopped himself. He didn’t know if there were any other golden eagles in Orion’s flock, and he couldn’t risk tipping him off. Stepping into the shadows, Simon closed his eyes and concentrated. He grew smaller, his wingspan shorter, and he could feel his feathers adjusting as he shifted into a hawk.

  Swallowing his nerves, he crossed the empty air and ventured into the dark entrance. It was on the side of the peak, where no human would be able to reach it, and the tunnel twisted in on itself, hiding whatever was inside. But as soon as Simon flew around the corner, bright lights flashed in his eyes, and he squinted.

  Landing on a rock jutting out from the wall, Simon turned his head to get a good look with his keen hawk sight now that he wasn’t immersed in darkness. He was inside a cavern not unlike Zia Stone’s mammal haven in Colorado, though this was full of birds. Dozens of hawks, falcons, and even eagles rested on perches across the roomy cave, and several humans lounged at long wooden tables. Most had drinks in front of them, and they spoke loudly, their laughter and conversation all jumbling together.

  Simon scanned the crowd, spotting a familiar face. Near the entrance to one of several tunnels leading into deeper parts of the mountain, Perrin sat at an otherwise empty table, hunched over and looking worse for wear.

  So Perrin had made it to Arizona, too. Simon studied him, but Perrin did nothing but nurse his drink. As the minutes ticked by, Simon flew from perch to perch impatiently, trying to get closer to Perrin without being noticed. There was no point, though—Perrin was alone, and even if he was talking to someone, the murmur of conversation in the cavern was too loud for Simon to eavesdrop.

  At last, when Simon was sure he would have to take a chance and explore the tunnels on his own, Rowan stepped out from an opening nearby. He leaned down to murmur something in his father’s ear, and Perrin’s expression grew pinched. Pushing aside his bottle, he rose and followed Rowan into the tunnel, and Simon soared through the cave after them. Finally.

  Simon kept his distance from the pair, neither of whom seemed to notice the hawk following them. But when the tunnel opened up to another cavern, Simon realized sneaking through the shadows hadn’t been necessary. Another dozen raptors perched around the room, many with their heads tucked under their wings at this late hour. Trying his best to stay inconspicuous, Simon made himself comfortable on the back of an unused chair in the corner.

  Perrin and Rowan moved into the center, where another long table stood, this one covered in maps and books. Simon ruffled his feathers. Maybe he had been wrong. Maybe Orion wasn’t here after all
.

  “It’s about time.” Orion’s voice boomed off the rock walls, and it was through a supreme act of willpower that Simon managed not to startle. Orion strode in, his limp obvious but his gait still powerful. From this angle, Simon had a perfect view of his blind eye, and he forced his racing pulse to slow. Even if Orion could have recognized him as a hawk somehow, he couldn’t see him from here. “Did you find them?”

  Perrin straightened, his hands clasped behind his back. “We watched them enter the Stilio, Your Majesty. They are now in the reptile council’s custody.”

  Orion tensed. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft and frigid. “You had one job—rescue my grandson. How many times has he slipped past you now?”

  Perrin stood still, his expression blank. “As soon as he leaves the hotel—”

  “He won’t be leaving, not on his own.” Orion began to pace. “Malcolm will come for him, no doubt. If we go after him now, before the Alpha arrives—”

  “But sir, the reptiles—”

  “Would you rather face the reptiles or the mammals?” Orion whirled around, grabbing the edge of the table to remain steady. “All you had to do was capture Simon when he got off the train, and you couldn’t even do that much.”

  “The mammals stole him—”

  “A bunch of ragtag misfits who could barely hold off a sparrow. Yet somehow they managed to best you.” Orion took a menacing step toward Perrin. “Did I make a mistake, appointing you my lieutenant?”

  Perrin’s jaw tightened, and his Adam’s apple bobbed. “No, Your Majesty.”

  “Is that so? Because from where I stand, it certainly seems that way.”

  “If Simon wanted to be here, Father, he would be,” said a new voice, and Simon’s head twisted around so fast he nearly strained something. His mother stepped through the same entrance Orion had used, her blond braid slung over her shoulder, and she carried a stack of books with her. Simon hadn’t seen her in human form since the rat army had kidnapped her two months earlier, and the sight of her whole and healthy made his heart skip a beat.

  “He’s twelve years old. Someone needs to protect him from the likes of Celeste and the pack,” said Orion. “It’s only a matter of time before they use Simon against us.”