Free Simon Thorn and the Wolf's Den by Aimée Carter Page A

shuddering breath. “Please, Winter. I need your help getting out of here.”
    Several seconds passed in silence, and Simon exhaled sharply. Before he could say anything else, however, Winter whipped back around to face him.
    â€œFine, but you have to listen to everything I say. No arguing, got it?”
    He nodded, relieved. “We do this your way.”
    â€œ The rats outside are soldiers—they just do what they’re told, and they won’t know where your mother is,” she said, her green eyes steely. “But I know someone who will.”
    â€œWho?” he said, gripping the strap of his backpack.
    â€œThe Rat King.” At the confused look that must have been on his face, she rolled her eyes and added, “He’s not a
real
king—not like Orion or the other rulers of the kingdoms. It’s just what you call it when . . .” She shook her head. “Anyway. He’s a joke, and he smells terrible, but he knows everything that goes on in the city. If your mother’s still in Manhattan, he’ll be able to tell us where.”
    Simon could put up with a stench if it meant finding his mother. “Where is he?”
    â€œRat Rock Boulder in Central Park. It’s sort of hard for him to get around, so he doesn’t go too far.” She eyed him. “How fast can you run?”
    â€œPretty fast. Why?”
    â€œBecause I’m going to kick the guard in the knee, and you’re going to make a break for it.”
    â€œYou’re what?” said Simon, but she was already halfway to the desk. “Winter—Winter!”
    â€œYou get only one chance, Simon,” she said, and before he could react, she did exactly as she’d said she would and kicked the unsuspecting guard. Hard.
    His cry of pain echoed through the lobby, and Simon darted forward. He could do this.
    He rushed the glass door and threw his whole body weight against it. Part of him expected resistance and pain, but the door flew open, and Simon spilled out onto the pavement.
    â€œHey!” yelled the doorman, but Simon was already running. The rats had nearly taken over the sidewalk, but seemingly oblivious pedestrians had formed a path through the battle, and Simon jumped from one clear spot to the next, narrowly missing several tails.
    He managed to get halfway down the block before a rat cried out, “Simon Thorn!” His name rose from the horde in waves, and before he knew it, the rats began to converge on him. Several people made sounds of disgust, and a nearby tourist screamed, but the rats ignored them.
    Simon’s heart hammered. The rats were coming from every direction—even the street—and now that he was there, they seemed to be multiplying. The birds screeched as they flashed their talons and ripped at the rats’ fur, but in seconds, they were vastly outnumbered.
    â€œSimon!” cried another voice—Winter. She waded through the rats, kicking several aside. “Ew, ew,
ew
! This is disgusting.”
    â€œGet back inside!” he called as he stumbled forward, the rats’ sharp claws scratching his legs as they tried to climb up his jeans again. Simon grew heavier and heavier as more rats joined them, and he became dizzy with panic. This had been a terrible idea. He should’ve listened to Winter and stayed in Sky Tower, or at least waited until the rats vanished. This time, his uncle wasn’t here to save him, and if any more rats appeared—
    A shriek filled the air, and Simon looked up in time to see a flock of hawks and falcons diving toward them from the top of Sky Tower. Leading them was the one-eyed golden eagle—Orion.
    Before Simon could move, talons ripped the rats off his clothing, and more vicious screams echoed in his ears as the birds and rats clashed. The rodents were no match for the larger raptors, and within seconds, they began to scatter.
    â€œCome on, before they force us back inside!” Winter