He stopped short. What felt like a brilliant idea was quickly crumbling, but he needed to get to LA. His mother had tasked him with finding the hidden pieces before anyone else could get their hands on them, and the Bird Lord was close—too close. And he was sneaky. If he had the right ally working for him, they could already be too late.
“I’m sorry, Simon,” said Jam, and he really did sound it. “There’s nothing I can do.”
“Please, just ask him,” he said. “If he says no, then—okay. But this might be our only shot. You know how important this is, Jam. You all do. It isn’t only about my mom anymore. It’s about the entire Animalgam world.”
“I know,” mumbled Jam, staring at his plate of untouched breakfast. Finally, with a heavy sigh, he said, “Okay, I’ll ask. But if he says no—”
“It’s not like you can get into any more trouble,” said Winter, stealing the last of Simon’s pancakes. He was so relieved that he didn’t even mind.
“Thanks, Jam,” he said. “I owe you big-time.”
“You don’t owe me anything,” said Jam. “We’re friends. But I will expect you to write me if the General keeps me under house arrest until I’m an adult.”
“Every day,” promised Simon. But as frightened as Jam was of his father, they both knew they had bigger things to worry about. Whatever it took, they had to find the underwater kingdom’s piece of the Predator. The Beast King’s weapon could only be destroyed when it was assembled, and in order to do that, they couldn’t let a single piece fall into Orion’s hands. Even if it meant facing the wrath of a very angry General and the entire underwater army, Simon had to take that chance. They all did.
3
WINGING IT
Nolan reappeared in their History of the Animalgam World class later that morning, sporting a sling and a story about falling down a staircase as he and Simon had raced to the bottom. Simon had started to protest, especially when he saw the way Nolan’s friends were glaring at him, but he supposed it was a step in the right direction. Only a few months ago, Nolan would have told everyone that Simon had pushed him.
Finally, once wheezy Mr. Barnes had finished his lecture on the seventeenth-century feuds between the many divided factions of the insect kingdom—which, as Ariana liked to point out, also included arachnids and other creatures most people would just call bugs—Simon followed Jam toward the underwater kingdom’s section of the L.A.I.R. That narrow corridor was, as far as Simon was concerned, the coolest part of the school. The glass hallway was surrounded by water, and everything from schools of fish to the sharks that guarded the moat swam past, going through the daily training drills the members of the underwater kingdom had to endure. It was no secret how much Jam hated the regimented life of his kingdom, but Simon thought the views might have made up for it.
They ducked down the trapdoor that led underneath the tunnel, into the section where the students slept. Rather than head to the dormitory, Jam led Simon to an office that smelled of sardines. A hulking man with a neatly trimmed moustache sat behind a desk, his size giving the impression it was meant for a child rather than a full-grown man.
“Sir,” said Jam at the threshold, saluting the man—a great white shark Simon only knew as the captain. “Apologies for the intrusion, sir. Permission requested to make a phone call, sir.”
The captain didn’t bother looking up. “Is it an emergency, soldier?”
“I—” Jam glanced at Simon and swallowed. “I received an official summons from the General, sir, and—yes, sir. It’s an emergency, sir.”
The captain exhaled and grudgingly said, “Very well, soldier. Permission granted.”
Jam saluted once more and backed out of the doorway. “Come on,” he said quietly to Simon. “The phone booth is this way.”
Jam showed him a cramped booth with a stainless steel phone hanging from the wall. It had barely enough room for a single person to sit down, so while Jam dialed, Simon stayed outside to make sure no one was around to overhear. He wanted to go to LA so badly that he felt nauseated, and the possibility that the General would say no ate away at him. Worst case, he supposed he could sneak away during winter break and fly to California. It wouldn’t be fun living off whatever golden eagles liked to feast on—rats and small animals, more than likely, and he probably would have known if he’d bothered paying attention in zoology—but he could do it if he had to.
“Ma’am, this is Private Benjamin Fluke, ma’am,” said Jam into the receiver. He didn’t sound like the quiet but confident bookworm he was at school; instead his voice quavered, and as Simon watched, he paled. “I’m calling for General Fluke. Yes, ma’am. I’ll hold, ma’am.”
Simon caught his eye, and he flashed Jam a thumbs-up. He knew it was completely unhelpful, but he didn’t know what else to do. It was his fault Jam was in so much trouble to begin with, and now he was practically forcing his friend into digging the hole even deeper.
“Sir!” Jam’s voice rose an octave, giving him the impression of a squeaking mouse. “Yes, sir, I received your—yes, sir, I’ll be—yes, sir, eighteen hundred hours—yes, sir, I know what I did was—”
Jam grimaced and held the phone an inch from his ear. In the quiet hallway, Simon could hear a booming voice yell what sounded like a well-rehearsed lecture, though Simon couldn’t make out what he was saying. Not that he needed to. No doubt he was ranting about the impromptu trip they’d taken to Arizona to find the reptiles’ piece of the Predator. They’d succeeded, and it was currently hidden underneath a fake bottom Simon had created in his sock drawer, but while Ariana’s mother hadn’t seemed to mind, clearly Jam’s father did.
At last Jam said in a meek voice, “Yes, sir. I won’t do it again, sir. May I—” He swallowed hard and glanced at Simon. “May I make a request, sir? May I bring friends home to celebrate the holidays with us, sir?”
A moment passed, and Jam pressed his lips together, inhaling slowly. “Simon Thorn, sir. The Alpha’s nephew. And Ariana Webster, sir, the Black Widow Queen’s daughter. And Winter Rivera, the—” He winced and pulled the phone away from his ear again. “Yes, sir. The Bird Lord’s adopted—yes, sir. But—but she doesn’t have any contact with him anymore, and—”
Another beat, and Simon inched closer to the opening of the booth, knowing better than to hope, but he wasn’t willing to give up yet. The General had to say yes. If he didn’t …
“I thought it would be a good idea, sir. Future leaders of the five kingdoms, sir. The more time we spend together—”
Jam’s expression fell, and another long silence passed. “Yes, sir. I understand, sir. No foreigners inside the city, sir. I apologize for asking you to break protocol, sir.”
Simon’s heart plummeted. The answer was no. He tried to keep his expression as neutral as possible, not wanting Jam to feel bad when Simon was the one who’d pushed him into this, but it didn’t matter. Jam refused to look at him.
“Yes, sir. I won’t be late, sir. Eighteen hundred hours, sir.” With that, Jam slowly hung up the phone, gaze still focused on his shoes. “I’m sorry, Simon.”