Simon Thorn and the Wolf's Den (26 page)

“Finally.” Orion straightened, and his hands trembled as he slipped the Heart of the Predator onto the scepter, pushing it into place with a sharp
click
. “Let her come.”

Simon backed away until he hit the railing, his pulse pounding in his ears. He had to get the weapon before Orion
could
use it to absorb the Alpha's powers and seize control of the kingdoms. Simon knew that without a doubt, no matter how many alternatives there were, one day Orion would kill either him or Nolan—whichever twin was the Beast King's heir. For his own power, or to stop the Beast King's line from rising again—it didn't matter. One of them would still be dead.

“Take him downstairs to join his brother,” said Orion to the guards behind Simon. “Protect them at all costs.”

They reached for him, but Simon darted out of the way and kicked the nearest guard in the shin. Startled, the guard stumbled backward down the spiral steps, plowing into his partner and sending them both tumbling down head over heel.

“Simon!” shouted a small voice, and he looked around. Felix crouched beside Orion, and before his grandfather realized he was there, Felix bit him on the ankle.

Orion cried out, doubling over as his grip on the weapon slipped. Simon dashed forward and snatched the scepter, prying it from his grandfather's gnarled fingers and dancing back out of his reach. Now that it was assembled, he could destroy it, and there was only one way he could think of to make sure it wound up in so many pieces that Orion would never have the chance to use it.

Simon spotted the opening at the top of the atrium. If he could only get up there—

A hair-raising screech echoed through the trees. Orion
had
shifted, and he flew after Simon, catching up in seconds. His talons scratched Simon's neck and shoulders, and he shoved the bird away, using all his might to tear a handful of feathers from Orion's wing. The eagle screamed and disappeared into the tree.

Dozens of birds exploded from the branches and began to descend on Simon, but Orion called out, “Do not harm him! He is trapped—there is nowhere for him to go. I will handle this.”

As they flew back into the trees, Simon looked around, searching desperately for a way to get up to the roof. But there was no ladder. There was no staircase. The only way up was—

He gritted his teeth. Climbing onto the railing, he balanced precariously on the edge and tucked the Predator into his belt. Here went nothing.

“Simon—no!” cried his mother, but it was too late. He leaped across the open air, barely managing to grab on to one of the few branches thick enough to hold his weight. Pain shot through his arms, and he struggled as he pulled himself up. At last he made it, and he scurried toward the trunk and began the shaky climb to the highest branches, where he would be able to reach the opening in the roof.

“Simon—come back down,” called Orion. “If you fall . . .”

Simon continued climbing. Twice he nearly lost his grip and plummeted, but he held on, his entire body straining.

At last he reached the edge of the atrium. The branches
at
this height were too thin to hold his weight much longer, and he looked around. The wind whistled through the open panel only a few feet away, and Simon took a deep breath. Now or never.

He pushed off from the tree and leaped toward the opening. The weak branch snapped below his feet and tumbled to the ground, and for one horrible moment Simon was sure he would fall, too. In the atrium below, he heard a chorus of shouts, but there was nothing anyone could do. He was on his own. He slammed into the wall, only just catching the edge of the window. The glass cut his palms, but using all his strength, he pulled himself into the open air.

Every muscle in Simon's body trembled as he slid across the glass. The roof was flat except for the dome that surrounded the highest branches, but as he moved closer to the edge, he noticed there was no railing. Only the wind stood between him and a forty-story fall.

The skyline spun around him, and he walked unsteadily toward the edge. All he had to do was drop the Predator. There was no way it would survive intact, and no one would be able to use it ever again.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you, my boy.”

Orion appeared on the roof, once again in human form. His sleeve was ragged and his arm bled from where Simon had ripped out his feathers, but he didn't seem to care. With his hand outstretched, he inched toward Simon, his good eye turned toward him.

“
Think about what you're doing. If you destroy it, I will have no way of protecting you against the Alpha and the other kingdoms. As soon as they discover that the Beast King's line still exists, they
will
kill you. Or your brother.”

“And so will you,” said Simon, his voice shaking.

Orion shuffled closer. “If that's what you're afraid of, then I promise the only person who must die is the Alpha. I will keep you and your brother safe. I swear on all I am that we will figure it out together. As a family.”

Simon inched toward the edge. He had nowhere to go but down. “Family doesn't threaten to kill each other. Even if I trusted you, no one should have this kind of power. Not you, not the Alpha, no—”

A howl rang through the atrium, and he glanced at the open window. The pack was here. Simon was running out of time.

He was about to let go of the scepter when Orion charged forward. Simon tried to sidestep him, and it took every muscle in his body to stop before he stumbled over the edge. Orion shifted into an eagle before he could fall, and he snatched the weapon from Simon's hand.

“Hey!” said Simon. Running against the icy wind, he darted into Orion's blind spot and threw all of his weight against the golden eagle, tackling him to the roof. They skidded across the glass together, and Simon made a wild grab for the scepter.

“No!” cried Orion. His talons dug into Simon's skin, but
it
was too late. Simon's fingers closed around the scepter, and he wrenched his arm from Orion's grasp.

Scrambling to his feet, Simon raced for the edge. Behind him, Orion screamed, but Simon was deaf to his shouts. Just a few more steps, and—

Something slammed into Simon, knocking him down. He kept his hold on the Predator, but his body went sliding across the glass, skidding closer and closer to that forty-story drop. Simon clawed at the roof, but nothing he did slowed him down. He was going to fall.

Just as the roof disappeared out from under him, someone grabbed his arm. For a split second, Simon dared to hope it was one of the wolves. Darryl, Malcolm, even Vanessa—he didn't care, as long as he wasn't alone.

Instead, Orion knelt on the edge of the roof, his nails digging into Simon's wrist.

“The Predator,” he gasped. “Give it to me.”

Simon dangled off the edge, his sneakers squeaking against the glass panes as he struggled to find purchase. But there were no ledges that would hold him. If Orion let go, Simon would fall.

He couldn't think. He couldn't feel anything but the biting wind, Orion clutching his arm, and the five-pointed star cutting into his palm. He made the mistake of looking down, and his head spun.

“Give it to me!” yelled Orion. “If you don't, we will all die.”

Simon's
mind went blank, and he couldn't move. He was dangling off the edge of a building, and he couldn't even open his mouth to speak.

“Orion!” a voice boomed over the howling wind.
Darryl
. “Let him go.”

“I'm afraid you don't want me to do that right now,” he wheezed.

“He could be your heir,” said Darryl. “If you kill him, you could kill the end of your line.”

“He is not,” said Orion with startling certainty. “Isabel knows he isn't—she knows he is the firstborn. That is why she hid him. That is why she told no one of his existence. That is why she gave him the Beast King's pocket watch. She knows, and now so do I.”

“And if you're wrong?” said Darryl.

Orion coughed, and his hand began to slip. “There is no use pretending any longer. You have protected him all this time because you know he is the Beast King's heir. As soon as he shifted, you were going to turn him over to the Alpha so she could gain his powers.”

Darryl limped into Simon's view, and for a split second, Simon wondered why he wasn't a wolf. But on the glass roof, his claws would only make him more vulnerable. It didn't matter how well his uncle could fight. This far above the ground, he would lose.

“I've protected him because he's my family,” said Darryl. “I don't care what he shifts into. He's the most important
person
in the world to me. And if you drop him off this roof, I will spend the rest of my life making sure yours is as painful as possible.”

“I don't want to—kill him.” Orion clenched his teeth. His arm trembled, and Simon could feel his grip weakening. “That achieves nothing. All he has to do—is give me the scepter.”

Simon's eyes locked onto Darryl's. “I can't,” he managed. “He's going to kill me anyway, and if he's wrong, he'll kill Nolan, and he'll kill Mom, and he'll kill you. He'll kill everyone.”

“I won't let that happen,” said Darryl. “You've done everything you can, but sometimes you have to lose the battle in order to win the war. Whatever happens—you and I will fight it together, and everything will be all right. But if you drop the weapon and he lets go . . .” His voice hitched. “Please, Simon. Nothing is worth losing you.”

The knot in his chest ached, and Simon could barely breathe. At last, without taking his eyes off his uncle, he slid the scepter onto the glass roof.

“Thank you, my boy,” said Orion. “You've made the right decision, and now I must once again do what is best for my kingdom. I do hope you know it isn't personal.”

And with that, he let Simon go.

24

MURDER OF CROWS

Simon opened his mouth to scream, but nothing came out.

He was falling. The cold wind rushed around him, and the world blurred.

He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think.

It wouldn't matter soon enough, but Simon didn't want it to end like this. Not without saying good-bye to his mother. Not without telling Darryl how sorry he was and how much his uncle meant to him.

The hot knot in his chest burst, and an aching cry escaped from deep within him. He could already feel his limbs twisting, shattering the way they would on impact. His insides clenched, his voice caught in his throat, and he spread his arms—

He
was flying.

The wind seemed to rise beneath him, lifting him into the air. He wasn't falling anymore. Instead he glided through the sky above Manhattan.

How? He gave his arms an experimental flap. They weren't arms anymore though. They were wings. And his screams—they were the screeches of an eagle.

He whooped and flapped his wings again. He'd done it. He'd really shifted. He was a living, breathing eagle now, soaring through the air at an impossible speed.

But Simon's exhilaration was quickly dashed by blind panic. He didn't know how to fly, and now he was careening out of control through New York. He might have saved himself from becoming nothing more than goo on concrete, but now there was nothing stopping him from running headlong into a building.

“Flap!” called a voice. “Flap!”

“What?” yelled Simon. A pigeon appeared beside him.

“Flap!” insisted the pigeon again, demonstrating with its own wings. Simon tried to mimic it, and he rose even farther into the air. “Flap!”

“I'm flapping!” he said. “How do I turn?”

“Flap!” The pigeon demonstrated, and with Simon's keen eagle eyesight, he immediately spotted the shift in the pigeon's feathers before it disappeared down another street. Instinctively he followed.

Soon enough Simon could navigate nearly as well as the
pigeon,
provided he didn't think about it too hard. That was when he got disoriented and his human mind tried to take over. For now, he let the eagle part of his brain figure it out.

“Thanks!” he called to his new friend. “I owe you one.” At the pigeon's confused look, he added, “Food.”

“Food?” said the pigeon immediately, and Simon laughed.

“Later,” he promised, and he soared through the air, back to Sky Tower.

Even at a distance, he could see two figures fighting on the roof in the sunlight. A wolf snarled, and an eagle hovered out of reach. Relief flooded Simon. Darryl was holding his own.

As he grew closer, however, he spotted a strange cloud swarming the building. Birds, Simon realized. Hundreds of them. And they all went straight for his uncle.

“Darryl!” he yelled, hurtling toward the roof. The wolf snapped at the birds, fighting to break free, but there were too many of them. They pecked and scratched at his face, his throat, his paws, every part of him they could reach. Darryl stumbled, and Orion shifted back into a man, clutching the scepter.

“I was planning to test the Predator on your dear mother, but I suppose this will do,” said Orion. “Give Luke and Simon my best.”

Time seemed to slow. Seconds turned into minutes. And as Simon watched in horror, Orion lunged toward the wolf, sinking the razor-sharp points of the Heart of the Predator into Darryl's chest.

Simon
screamed and dived straight toward them. In the moments before he reached the roof, the wolf curled in on himself, and Orion stared at the scepter, confused.

“Why isn't it working?” he said. “What have you and Isabel done?”

Darryl managed a wolfish grin despite the blood that began to mat his fur. “Can't always win, can you?”

Blinded by rage, Simon collided with Orion in a clash of feathers and talons, ripping at the old man with everything he had. In a split second, Orion shifted into an eagle, and they flew through the air, tangled together five hundred feet above the city.