Fall of Thor's Hammer (Levi Prince Book 2)

by Amy C. Blake

  The laughter came to an abrupt halt as Mrs. Forest ran screeching across the stage. The kitchen boss’s tiny pixie wife was gone almost before Levi had time to read the rule she carried: “Don’t leave your room after lights-out!”

  Stunned silence followed her screams. Then came the sound of rattling chains and a rotten smell, sort of like the time Levi had forgotten a roast beef sandwich in his backpack for three weeks.

  Cold fingers of dread closed around Levi’s throat as Mr. Austin and Dr. Baldwin dragged something manacled across the stage. A brown hood covered the creature’s face, except for eyeholes, which showed red glowing eyes. The cuffed hands were hairier than any he had ever seen, and the long, yellowed fingernails made him want to run and hide.

  Beside him, Morgan gasped. “What is that thing?”

  The Asian boy in front of them twisted around and gave her a look of disdain. “It’s just to scare us into obeying the rules. Hollywood tricks like the other stuff.”

  Levi plucked at his lower lip, eyes narrowed. Would the campers really dismiss all of these bizarre creatures as mere Hollywood tricks?

  “You stay in your room at night. I mean it.” The cold voice Levi hated more than any other—Hunter’s voice—came from the row behind them. Levi whipped around.

  Hunter was glaring at Morgan. Or was he talking to Sara? The bully’s gaze flicked back and forth between the girls. Both Sara and Morgan had tight mouths and lowered brows as they frowned at Hunter. Levi’s mouth turned down at the corners, too. Why did Hunter feel he had the right to tell either girl what to do? Not that he thought wandering the castle at night sounded like a good plan for either—

  A sudden roar pulled his attention to the sky. Two massive creatures covered in glittering scales soared overhead, the black one ridden by Mr. Drake, the blue one by Mr. Sylvester. Both men held long, thick wooden poles with sharp tips. Mr. Sylvester balanced a sign on his saddle: “No dragon jousting without permission.”

  The campers cheered, stuff like “Awesome!” and “That has to be the coolest hologram I’ve ever seen!” But Levi couldn’t seem to close his unhinged jaw. What in the world . . . ?

  Hot breath tickled his neck as Hunter’s whisper invaded his ears. “You and me, Prince. Name the time.”

  Dragon jousting? Seriously? “Yeah, right.” As if people really tried to knock other people from the backs of dragons with pointed sticks.

  Yet what would be worse: Riding a fire breathing dragon? Or facing the tip of Hunter’s lance?

  “Scared, aren’t you?” Hunter’s blue-gray eyes were the color of iron. His upper lip curled. “You know I’ll knock you off your dragon, runt.”

  A burst of riotous applause saved Levi from having to think of a good comeback, something lame like, Uh-uh, my mom won’t let you.

  Instead, he turned to see Mr. and Mrs. Dominic standing center stage, arms around each other’s waists. Mrs. Dominic held a sign in her free hand: “Chapel attendance is mandatory. Don’t forget your Bible.”

  “I hope you’ve enjoyed our little performance,” Mr. Dominic said over the cheering. When everyone settled down, he continued, “Even though we did this to entertain you, I hope you’ll remember the rules.” He shot a significant look toward the back of the crowd, seemingly straight at Levi.

  He flushed. Did the director mean him? Had Sara told her dad what Levi said about his skills as a camp director? Maybe it was against the laws of Terracaelum to criticize the prince? He glanced at Sara, but she had her eyes on her parents.

  Loud thuds and a collective gasp drew his gaze back to the stage. A gigantic man, triple the height and four times the width of Mr. Dominic, stomped up behind the elderly couple. The platform trembled with his every stomp, but the wood didn’t crack. The Dominics waited with serene smiles on their faces.

  “One final rule.” The director indicated a poster clutched upside-down in the giant’s fists. Mr. Dominic tapped the hulk’s elbow and made a twirling motion with his forefinger. Square jaw hanging wide, the creature knitted his thick brows and blinked his dull eyes in a way that reminded Levi of Hunter’s sidekick, Martin. But the giant must’ve been smarter than Martin, because he rumbled “oh” and turned the sign right side up. On it was a single word, “Excelsior.”

  Mr. Dominic patted the creature’s forearm fondly then faced the campers. “Remember our motto. Excelsior. Ever higher.” Pointing at the poster high above his head, he peered at the kids, eyebrows raised as if he expected a reaction. “Get it?”

  After a moment, Monica said, “Oh, that’s an awful joke.”

  Sara giggled, and Levi groaned. Most of the kids stared at the giant in obvious confusion.

  “A little Latin humor?” Mr. Dominic gave another hopeful poke skyward. “Excelsior? It means ‘ever higher,’ remember? Like him . . . high?” He waited. “No?”

  His wife flashed him an indulgent smile and shook her head.

  The director heaved a sigh. “Ah, well, as I was saying . . . Seek to do ever higher, strive always to do better than you think you possibly can.” He beamed at the campers. “Follow these simple rules, and I’m certain you’ll have an outstanding summer.”

  Moments before room check that night, Levi stood in the open kitchen doorway. “Hello?” He knocked on the doorframe and stepped into the vast room, still steamy from supper. “Anybody here? Mr. Forest? Mrs. Forest?”

  No one answered. Levi grunted. It figured the place was deserted. Steve should’ve come down for clean sheets himself, since he was the one who’d slopped water all over Levi’s bed.

  Now what? He scanned the room. The industrial-size stove, stainless steel refrigerator, and massive central island didn’t really fit with the soot-gray stone walls, lit torches, and huge fireplace, but he couldn’t imagine caring for a castle full of people without the generators, hot water heaters, and other conveniences Mr. Dominic had added for the camp. But the modern kitchen didn’t help him with his mission: finding clean sheets.

  He turned toward the adjoining laundry room. Bangs and rattling sounds halted him. He whipped around. Nobody was there. Nothing was out of place. Not a single pot had shifted, despite the precarious way they were stacked on shelves along the back wall.

  The pounding resumed, more ferocious than before. There—a door hidden in a dark alcove at the farthest corner of the kitchen. Was it a pantry? Or a closet maybe? Had Mr. Forest locked himself inside?

  Wait. What if this was the cellar Mr. Dominic warned them to stay out of? Even if it was, Levi had no intention of going into the cellar, just of letting poor Mr. Forest out. Who could blame him for that?

  As he touched the knob, it twisted violently. The door shook so hard he thought it might burst. Heart hammering, he fell back against the wall. The pounding ceased.

  Levi forced a chuckle that sounded hollow in the sudden silence. “Calm down, already. I’m gonna let you out.” He grasped the handle.

  A shriek from behind him stilled his hand and almost stopped his heart. “Get away from that door, you foolish boy!”

  4

  Caught in the Act

  Levi wheeled around. Mrs. Forest, the kitchen boss’s pixie wife, stood behind him, her eyes even bigger than normal behind her thick glasses. A tray of dirty dishes rattled in her hands.

  Afraid she would drop it, Levi took the tray and set it on the island. “What’s the matter, Mrs. Forest?”

  The door clattered again.

  Mrs. Forest’s tiny hand fluttered to her throat, but she stepped between him and the offending door. “Do not open that for any reason. Ever.”

  He glanced from side to side. Had Trevor put her up to this? He was way too into practical jokes these days. “I . . . I just thought you or your husband might’ve gotten closed in down there . . . accidentally.”

  “Well, we didn’t.” Two bright red patches appeared on her cheeks. “And even if we did, you have no business opening it. You know the rules. Don’t go in the cellar, period.”

  “I wasn’t going
in.” What was this, the third degree? He was just trying to help. “Besides, I didn’t even know for sure it was the cellar.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Likely story. There’s always one that thinks they should flout the rules. Always one who thinks it’s funny to disobey.”

  He opened his mouth to defend himself, but the furious pounding kicked up again, and Mrs. Forest leapt away from the door.

  Levi’s scalp tingled. “What’s going on down there?”

  “Come.” She grasped his earlobe, yanked him across the kitchen, and tugged him into the hallway.

  “Hey, that hurts.”

  But she kept her pincer hold on his ear, making him walk bent double to keep her from ripping it off. She led him down the hall and up one of the twin spiral staircases on the castle’s north side.

  “Where’re we going?”

  For answer, she gave his earlobe another sharp twist.

  Okay, no more questions.

  In several long, painful moments, they approached the Dominics’ second floor study. She released him and rapped hard on the door.

  Mrs. Dominic opened it. Her welcoming smile fled at the scowl on Mrs. Forest’s face. “Ylana? Levi? What’s the matter?”

  “Might I speak to your husband, please, ma’am?” Mrs. Forest’s words were clipped yet respectful.

  “Certainly.” Mrs. Dominic ushered them in and offered seats in front of the director’s desk.

  Mr. Dominic looked up from a large book with crinkled yellow pages. “Hello. Something I can help you with?” His eyes searched the little woman’s face then Levi’s. The twinkle in them told Levi the director pitied him for getting on the pixie’s bad side.

  “Caught him trying to open the cellar door, I did.” Mrs. Forest glared at Levi as if he’d tried to steal one of her secret recipes.

  Levi rubbed his sore ear. “I thought she’d locked herself down there. Or maybe Mr. Forest.”

  The director’s gaze flicked from Levi to Mrs. Forest to Mrs. Dominic and back, the line between his brows deepening. “Why would you think that?”

  “Because somebody’s pounding on the door like the devil’s after him.”

  Mr. Dominic stood so abruptly his chair banged into the wall and knocked the map of Terracaelum off kilter. “Pounding?” He raised an eyebrow at Mrs. Forest.

  She nodded, her doll-size hands knotted in her apron.

  “Did he get it open?”

  Mrs. Forest shook her head. “I caught him in time.” Color filled her cheeks. “Tried to argue with me though, the little upstart.”

  Little? Who was she to call him little? “Excuse me, will someone please explain to me why no one cares about the person locked in the cellar?”

  Mr. Dominic ignored him, instead addressing his wife. “It’s been a long time.”

  “Why now?” Her voice was the merest whisper. “First the trouble in the mountains and now this. You don’t think . . .”

  “Probably the storm down below earlier in the week—” Mrs. Forest began.

  Mr. Dominic cocked his chin toward Levi then gave his head an almost imperceptible shake. He turned to Levi and said in a stern voice, “You must never open the cellar door, is that understood?”

  Levi met his eyes, unblinking. No. It was not understood. Some poor person was trapped in a place that apparently terrified full-grown adults. Didn’t Mr. Dominic care?

  Mrs. Dominic laid a hand on her husband’s arm. “Tobias, he doesn’t understand. How can he?”

  The director sighed, his expression gentler than before. “I’m sorry, son. Be assured that none of the campers or staff is down there.”

  Some of the tension left Levi’s shoulders.

  Mr. Dominic circled the desk, stood before him, and bent to meet his eyes. “I can’t give you more information, but please, trust me and do as I say. Stay away from the cellar. It’s a dangerous place.”

  His clenched jaw relaxed a little. He gave a single nod.

  “Thank you.” The director strode toward the door, patting Levi on the shoulder as he passed. “Now, I have a cellar to deal with.”

  Levi wanted to call after him, to demand that he tell him what was so dangerous, but he could only watch the man’s retreating back.

  Levi walked into his room and stared at the short set of steps beside his four-poster bed, so lost in wondering about the cellar he didn’t even realize where he was. The confusion he thought he’d left behind when he’d entered Terracaelum came crowding back into his mind.

  “Wouldn’t they give you more sheets?”

  He looked up. Steve waited beside Levi’s bed, holding a bundle of dirty linens.

  “Aargh.” He stomped up the steps and plopped down on his bare mattress. “I forgot all about the stupid sheets.”

  Trevor glanced up from the card game he and Albert were playing. “How’d you manage that?”

  “You’d forget too if some monster in the cellar freaked everybody out and you got in trouble for it.”

  Tommy’s head popped out from behind his open wardrobe door. “Huh?”

  “What monster?” Steve released the wad of wet sheets.

  Trevor frowned. “What’re you talking about?”

  Levi fixed his attention on the only silent person in the room—Albert. At the mention of monsters in the cellar, the pixie had dropped his cards and now sat staring at his own bony bare feet.

  “You know what’s going on, don’t you, Albert?”

  The pixie’s cheeks reddened, but he said nothing.

  Levi hopped down from his bed and approached Trevor’s, his focus on Albert’s pimply face. “Out with it.”

  He shook his head, lips clamped shut.

  “Come on,” Levi wheedled. “You can tell us.”

  “Can’t,” Albert said from between clenched teeth. “Not supposed to tell.”

  “Why not?”

  Albert shook his head hard, his face blood red and his eyes popping. Just when Levi thought he was going to spill the facts, the little man shot from the bed like he had a dragon after him. He shoved Levi aside, knocked Steve on his rump, and tore from the room without so much as an apology.

  As soon as the door slammed shut behind Albert, Trevor rounded on Levi. “What in the world was that all about?”

  “I don’t know.” Levi looked down at Steve flailing around in the pile of soggy linens. “But I’m gonna find out.”

  5

  In Plain Sight

  The next day in Logic class, Mr. Dominic wouldn’t meet his eyes. At least that’s how it felt to Levi. After a brief review of the logical fallacies they’d studied in-depth the summer before, the director told them to break into groups of four. Levi, Trevor, Sara, and Monica pulled their desks together, leaving Tommy, Steve, and Lizzie with Gabrielle, a snotty ballerina-type who pranced around on tiptoes all the time.

  Tommy rolled his eyes at Levi as she prattled on about her performance in Swan Lake that spring. Levi offered an apologetic shrug. Too bad Ashley hadn’t come back. If there was one thing she never did, it was prattle.

  Mr. Dominic gave Levi a sheet of paper. “Each group has been assigned a case study. Work together to figure out how more careful reasoning could’ve helped the person or persons involved to achieve a better outcome. Then appoint a spokesperson to report to the class.” He pulled out a pocket watch and glanced at it. “You have ten minutes, starting now.” He snapped the watch shut.

  Levi peered from his group to the paper in front of him.

  Monica rapped a knuckle on her desk. “Read.”

  “Okay, so it says, ‘The giant Skrymir challenged Thor to perform several feats. Though a god, Thor could not finish the drink given him, lift a cat, or win a wrestling match against an old woman. Because of his failure, Thor thought he was a weakling. Skrymir then revealed that all had been an illusion. Thor had actually attempted to drink the ocean, to lift the world serpent, and to defeat old age.’”

  Frowning, Levi looked up from the paper. The others stared blankly ba
ck at him.

  “I thought these were case studies.” Trevor jerked his chin toward Tommy’s group, where Lizzie was reading something that sounded much more normal, something about a guy buying a house.

  Levi shrugged. “That’s what it says.”

  Monica glanced at her watch. “We have precisely eight minutes.”

  “Well,” Sara said slowly, “it’s a story from Norse mythology. The gist is that the giant king tricked Thor into thinking he was less powerful than he was—through these different illusions.”

  “Right. I got that much.” Trevor twirled his hand in a get-on-with-it gesture.

  “So this god was tricked?” Levi scrunched his face. “If he was a god, shouldn’t he have seen what was going on?”

  “Definitely,” Monica said, “but only the one true God is omniscient. Pagan deities are not. Thor couldn’t discern the truth until the giant revealed it to him. He was easy to delude, but—” Her tone grew tight with impatience. “—that’s not the point of the story.”

  “Wait, maybe it is.” Trevor scratched his head. “Sometimes things that seem true aren’t really true at all? Is that what we’re supposed to get?”

  Sara’s brow furrowed. “I think it goes beyond that. Look at it from Skrymir’s perspective. If you want to hide something, put it in plain view.”

  Levi scratched his head. “Yeah, and then you let the other guy fill in the explanation for himself. In this case, Thor decided he was weak.”

  “Two minutes,” Mr. Dominic called.

  “I think we’ve got it.” Trevor leaned back in his seat. “I vote Monica be our spokesperson.”

  She held up her index finger. “Just a moment. That wasn’t the assignment. We’re supposed to decide how better logic would have helped Thor in this situation.”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Trevor rolled his eyes. “If Thor hadn’t made assumptions, he’d have seen the truth. All he had to do was use his brain for a few seconds, and he’d have figured out Skrymir was up to something devious. I mean, he’s Thor. Wrestling and drinking and stuff would’ve been cake in any other situation. He should’ve known there was a trick.”