by Amy C. Blake
The Fall of Thor’s Hammer
Amy C. Blake
Contents
Series Info
1. On the Precipice
2. Back to Terracaelum
3. Rules and Regulations
4. Caught in the Act
5. In Plain Sight
6. The Truth About the Cellar
7. A Bride Named Thor
8. In the Cellar
9. Regin of the Dvergar
10. The Lake Monster
11. Nightmares
12. Overcoming Fear
13. Combustible Commodes
14. A Serious Infraction
15. The Lead in a Skirt
16. A Spy in Armor
17. Thor and Loki
18. Crossing the Mountains
19. Dragon Attack
20. In Charge
21. A Ship in a Field of Flowers
22. The Mormo
23. Fit to Rule?
24. Roommates
25. Awaiting Judgment
26. Torture
27. Spilled Lemonade
28. Dead Fish
29. Trevor and Brock
30. Cousins
31. Betrayal
32. A Game of Chess
33. Mjolnir
34. Fencing with Mjolnir
35. Morgan’s Momma
36. Back to the Cellar
37. Darkness
38. Morgan and the Dvergar
39. Basilisks
40. Pressie
41. Battle for the Castle Key
42. Into the Lake
43. Two Keys
44. The Olympics and the Play
45. Forgiven
About the Author
LEVI PRINCE SERIES
THE FALL OF THOR’S HAMMER BOOK TWO
This publication is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. This work is protected in full by all applicable copyright laws, as well as by misappropriation, trade secret, unfair competition, and other applicable laws. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any manner without written permission from Winter Goose Publishing, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. All rights reserved.
Hallway Publishing
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North Hampton, NH 03862
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Contact Information: [email protected]
The Fall of Thor’s Hammer
COPYRIGHT 2017 by Amy C. Blake
First Edition, August 2017
Cover Design by Hallway Publishing
Typesetting by Odyssey Publishing
ISBN: 978-1-941058-69-5
Published in the United States of America
For the glory of Christ alone
For my husband Charles
And for our four blessings from God:
Elias, Charis, Jonas, and Lukas
1
On the Precipice
Levi Prince stood on the edge of Castle Island’s northern precipice and willed solid wood to fill the empty space in front of him. Fighting dizziness at the hundred-foot plunge to Lake Superior, he scanned the cloudless sky and squinted against the low sun in the west. It has to be here. He strained to see through the falling shadows in the east. When a squawking seagull passed directly in front of him without crashing into any invisible barriers, he huffed.
“Come on, show up.” He knelt on the rocky ledge and groped the air for some sign of the bridge.
But there was no drawbridge. Just a gust of moist wind that nosed at his fingers like his hyperactive puppy Cerberus begging for a biscuit.
He sighed as he stood upright. He’d ended last summer feeling so good in the knowledge that God was with him everywhere, even in Terracaelum, a world most people had no idea existed. But as the months at home dragged on, he’d found it harder and harder to hold on to the newfound maturity he was sure he had gained. Before long, his siblings were annoying him worse than ever, and his parents’ rules seemed ridiculous for somebody who’d battled a demon sorcerer and lived to tell the tale.
Not that he could take credit for the victory. God had been responsible for the violent windstorm that had saved him and his friends from Deceptor. And he hadn’t told anybody the tale, especially not his folks. If he told them his summer camp was a haven for mythical creatures, at least one of whom wanted to kill him, they’d never have let him come back. So he’d brooded in silence while his guilt and aggravation grew to monstrous levels. By the time he’d left for camp a few days earlier, the rift between him and his family had grown to a chasm even more vast than the one separating him from the castle. Because of that rift, Terracaelum had come to represent his only hope of regaining any sense of peace.
The longing almost choking him, he studied the empty air. What if the drawbridge wasn’t lowered? Or what if it only appeared when he’d been invited? After all, people could only enter the castle if Mr. or Mrs. Dominic admitted them. He plucked his Camp Classic invitation from his pocket, unfolded the dog-eared paper, and waved it as proof to the empty air. “They did invite me. See?”
Nothing happened. He drew in a deep breath and gagged on a whiff of rotten fish.
Shoulders slumped, Levi peered behind him through the scraggly trees at the trail leading downhill to the cabins, a good thirty-minute hike away. He didn’t see anybody on the trail. Not that he expected any of his friends to want to be around him right now, especially after what he’d said about Mr. Dominic at breakfast. Here he’d spent all school year wanting to get back to Camp Classic and his friends, and now he’d made them all mad. He should’ve kept his big mouth shut, especially in front of Sara. But between being crowded into three small buildings for five days with eighty campers and the pranks somebody in the boys’ cabin kept playing, he was downright aggravated. This morning’s green Jell-O in his shoes had pushed him beyond the breaking point.
He considered all the mean jokes additional proof that he was right about Sara’s dad doing a bad job as camp director—this summer at least. Last year, Mr. Dominic had been awesome, but this year he’d disappeared right after the campers arrived and had yet to return. Still, Levi should’ve kept his opinions to himself because with Sara and the others mad at him, life in the cabins would be worse than ever.
Yet another reason he needed to get back into Terracaelum. So where was the drawbridge? Why was it keeping him out? Why couldn’t he catch at least some shimmer of the rainbow lights that always appeared when the castle materialized?
Fists clenched, he stomped like his baby brother throwing a tantrum. Chunks of dirt fell, and he froze, breathless. Would the debris land on the bridge? Then he’d know where to cross, invisible or not.
But no, the dirt dropped straight into Lake Superior.
The path to Terracaelum had to be there somewhere. “Come on, God, show it to me, please.”
Wait. What if he needed to prove he believed in the drawbridge for it to materialize? What if he needed to act on that belief? To show faith?
He peeked down at the water shattering against the rocks, and his stomach churned. Okay, fine. He could do this. He closed his eyes and inched one foot out over nothingness. “I know you’re there. Let me in.” If he could only touch the bridge with the tip of his toes—
“Get back!”
The scream from behind shot adrenaline through his veins. He teetered. His eyes flew open. His balance shifted from the solid earth beneath his left foot toward the thin air beneath his right. A huge wave slurped upward as though eager to snatch him into the lake’s maw. He shoved ba
ckward with every ounce of his weight but still wobbled on the brink, his mind frozen on a single thought. If he fell, would the drawbridge catch him?
Or the rocks?
A sudden yank to the hem of his jacket had him flailing backward, and he landed on the ground with a grunt. For a moment, he sat there, eyes fixed on the empty sky. He clenched his jaw against a wave of nausea. When it passed, he twisted around.
Who had kept him from Terracaelum?
A small, pink-jacketed girl with jet-black hair stood in the shadow of a massive oak tree, her chest heaving. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he croaked.
Reproach crept into her pale blue eyes. “What were you doing? Trying to kill yourself?”
“Of course not.” Levi stood on shaky legs and stared pointedly at her hand still clutching his Cleveland Browns jacket.
She blushed but was slow to let go, as if worried he’d leap the moment she released him.
He raised both eyebrows. “It’s not like I was gonna do a Peter Pan or anything.”
“If you’re sure . . .”
“I’m sure.” Yeah, he was going nuts in the cabins, but he wasn’t that far gone.
“I’m Morgan.” The girl was tiny, like she belonged in second grade or something, but he knew she had to be at least thirteen or they wouldn’t have let her come to camp.
“I’m Levi,” he finally said. “You’re new, right?”
She nodded. “You were here last year?”
“Yeah.”
“Then shouldn’t you know better than to stand half-on, half-off a cliff?” She scrunched her lightly freckled nose. “What were you trying to do anyway?”
“Nothing.” He wasn’t about to tell her he’d hoped to make a castle magically turn up in the sky.
“Oh.” Morgan scuffed her silver Reebok through the grass, her dark hair curtaining her face.
He’d hurt her feelings. Still, he couldn’t tell her anything about Terracaelum. Most campers who’d attended last year hadn’t known their summer camp for classically-educated kids was in a realm suspended a hundred feet above the lake like a gargantuan tree-covered Goodyear blimp. They had no idea the camp staff was made up of creatures they’d only read about in myths and legends. He hadn’t known, so how could he expect this new kid to have a clue? I sure can’t tell her.
Instead, he forced a bright smile.
Too bright, apparently, because she stepped closer to him, her eyes sparkling like he was her new best friend. “I’ve been watching you. You’re so good at everything.”
Should he be creeped out? Or flattered? Neither, probably. Any second she was bound to bust out laughing: Just kidding, you’re really pathetic! Ha!
When her admiring look remained for a solid minute, he cleared his throat. “Uh, thanks.” He was better at fencing and archery than last summer and didn’t look like quite as much of a doofus building a campfire or pitching a tent, but good was stretching things. Still, the compliment felt nice, especially after his year at home.
He couldn’t do anything right with his mom and dad lately. Homeschooling, which he’d always liked before, had been torture this year because he could never escape the pressure of knowing he should tell his parents about Terracaelum. He’d never kept secrets from them before.
Morgan edged even closer to him, a goofy smile on her lips.
He sidestepped away, turning toward the lake where sunset painted purples and oranges across the vast, clear sky. At the faint whisper of her jacket sleeve brushing his, he squeezed his arms tight to his body.
She breathed out a dreamy sigh, the kind his sister Abby gave when she watched a sappy-sweet movie. Levi strained his eyeballs to catch a glimpse of her expression without giving away that he was looking.
Yep. She looked just like Abby watching Daddy Warbucks and that secretary woman smooching at the end of her favorite movie, Annie. But Morgan wasn’t staring goo goo-eyed at the sun setting on the water. She was staring at him.
Oh boy. It was definitely time to head back to camp.
Levi and Morgan reached camp as twilight fell. Sara’s roommate Lizzie confronted them beside the dining hall, both fists planted on the hips of her skinny jeans.
“Where have you been, honey?” Lizzie’s soft Southern drawl didn’t mesh with the pink-tipped claws she dug into Levi’s arm.
Now what had he done wrong? “Just hiking.” He wrenched his arm away.
“Sara’s been lookin’ all over for you.” Lizzie’s glare slid from him to Morgan and back.
“Okay. What does she want?” Probably to yell at him. No, Sara wouldn’t yell. All she had to do was give him a disappointed look, and he’d melt through the ground in a pathetic puddle of misery.
“It’s about Mr. Dominic.”
Maybe Lizzie would do the screaming. She was good at that. And if their other roommate Monica joined in, she’d scold him in six-syllable words. Yay. Too bad Ashley hadn’t come back this summer. She was too nice to yell.
Mouth tight, Lizzie cut her eyes toward Morgan, telling Levi he’d better think of a polite way to get rid of her so his friends could tell him how horrible he was.
Morgan turned her oblivious smile on him. “Mr. Dominic’s awesome, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, um . . . I need to go now, Morgan.”
“No problem.” She squeezed his wrist then skipped toward the girls’ cabin, silver shoes glowing in the semidarkness. “See you later, Levi.”
“Okay, bye.”
Lizzie slapped his shoulder.
“Hey, what was that for?” He rubbed his stinging skin.
She whipped around close enough that her long blond hair smacked him across the face, burying him in a heavy cloud of perfume. “Just come on.”
Letting loose a violent sneeze, Levi followed her past the dining hall. He wished he could go inside for a piece of the fried chicken he smelled, but he knew he’d better face the firing squad first. So he moved toward the woods and the faint glow of Sara’s golden hair, almost hidden in the shadow of the trees.
As soon as he reached her side, he said, “Look, Sara, I’m sorry for what I said, I just—”
“Hush.” She snagged his hand and pulled him a few paces within the tree line.
Okay, so they wanted to scold him in private. Hang on, where did Lizzie disappear to?
Stopping behind a particularly large tree, Sara whispered, “Dad’s back, and he says it’s time.”
Levi’s mind blanked. “Huh?”
“We’re going in the morning. To Terracaelum.”
“Really?” Excitement touched his belly. Then he shivered at how idiotic he’d acted a mere hour before, almost falling off the cliff in his impatience to get there on his own.
“Yeah, but remember not to say anything around the new kids.”
He nodded. Like Morgan, lots of campers were new this summer. Only a little over half from last year had returned. “Did your dad say where he’s been all this time?”
“Yes . . .” She nibbled her lower lip. “Apparently he’s at it again.”
“Who?”
“Deceptor, of course.”
Deceptor. Levi’s throat went dry. “So he’s still . . . alive then . . . and out there?” Cold sweat tricked down his spine.
“He is.” Sara’s chin trembled. She had to be thinking about Deceptor kidnapping her last summer, a memory that had given him nightmares all year long. He’d never explained to his parents that bad dreams were why he dragged himself from bed, exhausted and cranky, so many mornings.
“What—Um, what’s he up to this time?” Why couldn’t Deceptor have died that night? Mr. Dominic had said the shape-shifting demon sorcerer would return, but Levi had still tried to convince himself the director was wrong. He needed Terracaelum to be a safe place.
“I don’t know all the details. Something about a group of dwarves who live way up north. And then some weird creature one of the scouts spotted near the Medicollis.”
“The Medicollis?”
“You know, the mountains you see from the field south of the castle. Near where you fought him . . .” A haunted look crawled into her eyes.
Levi swallowed hard. “I assumed he lived there. With that cave and all.”
She shook her head. “My dad usually keeps him and his army restricted to the far northern tip of the kingdom—as far from the castle as possible.”
“Oh.”
“Anyway . . .” Sara straightened her shoulders. “Dad and the others handled the problem with the dwarves, and things are quiet again. He says it’s okay for everybody to come up.”
“That’s why the delay? So the campers would be safe?” Of course it was so the campers would be safe. He’d been an idiot to doubt Mr. Dominic’s leadership.
“Yes, that’s why.” Sara’s sad smile showed she still felt the sting of his earlier criticism. “He isn’t just Prince of Terracaelum, you know. My dad’s also a really great camp director.”
2
Back to Terracaelum
After breakfast the next morning, Levi trudged up the hill north of the cabins with his friends, who, thankfully, had all forgiven him—even Lizzie. Behind them hiked a pair of new kids, identical twins named Braden and Brock. They kept horsing around, shoving each other and laughing hysterically. Levi hoped they quit before they got much higher, or one of them might fall off the cliff. He knew what a long drop that was.