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

by Amy C. Blake

  Levi opened his mouth to confess what a chicken he was, but Sara tugged his hand. As he met her gentle gaze, she gave her head the tiniest shake. He closed his mouth and waited.

  “I’d like to canoe with Levi this time, Tommy,” she said.

  “Whatever.” Tommy climbed out of the boat, crossed to where Miss Althea stood watching Steve and Lizzie paddle in circles, and flopped onto the grass, arms across his chest.

  “Don’t worry about him,” Monica told Levi and Sara. “He’ll get over it.”

  Trevor shot them a questioning glance. “You guys okay?”

  Sara nodded, her expression confident. Levi wished he felt so sure.

  When the others paddled out of earshot, she faced him. “It’s normal.”

  “What do you mean?” He knew exactly what she meant. He fixed his gaze on the place near his dirty Nikes where the black earth and thick green grass dropped away into the rushing water.

  “You don’t have to pretend with me, Levi. I know how you feel. I’ve been there, remember?” Her smile was soft, sad. “Trust me, it’s easier to deal with the bad stuff if you have somebody to help you.” She gently touched a brownish-yellow bruise still visible on his forearm. “It took me weeks to go into the woods again after what happened last year.” Unshed tears shimmered in her blue-green eyes.

  “How’d you get past it?”

  “My dad went with me every day, coaxing me, encouraging me, until finally I did it.” She sighed. “And you know what I found out?”

  “What?” he whispered.

  “The woods aren’t scary in and of themselves. I actually enjoy exploring them. It’s the bad stuff others did in the woods that made me afraid.”

  Regin and the lake monster filled Levi’s thoughts, along with his near-fatal trip down the river and falls. Maybe if he’d been able to talk to his dad about all the junk he was feeling, he wouldn’t still be so panicky.

  But he had to wait. Next Sunday’s phone call was an eternity away.

  And yet, would it really be right to spring Terracaelum on his dad in a hurried phone conversation? Especially when his family already had so much on their plate—with Grandpa’s poor health and all. He didn’t know, and he couldn’t think about it right now. He had a monster to face, and he wasn’t up to the task. “I don’t know, Sara.” He backed a couple steps away from the river’s edge. “I don’t think I can. Not yet.”

  “Well, we won’t then. Not today anyway.” She smiled at his frown. “But we’ll come back every day until you’re ready. Deal?”

  He started to refuse, to give up and stay away from any body of water larger than a bath tub for all eternity. In fact, he’d probably stick to showers from here on out. Quick ones. But at the look of expectation, of hope, in her face, he blew out a breath. “Oh, all right, it’s a deal. But don’t expect too much too soon.”

  13

  Combustible Commodes

  Levi opened his bedroom door. Something clattered behind him, followed by somebody grumbling. Steve shoved past him.

  “What’s your problem?” Trevor disentangled himself from the suit of armor Steve had apparently rammed him into. With reverent motions, he straightened the knight’s visor and shield.

  Tommy stood behind him snickering.

  Levi looked back into the room as Steve sprinted into the bathroom and slammed the door. “Guess he had to go.” He couldn’t stifle a snicker. “Bad.”

  The other boys entered the room, Trevor shaking his head with a look of disgust. “He didn’t have to push me. He could’ve messed up my man.”

  Tommy rolled his eyes. “It’s a suit of armor, goober. Get over it.”

  Trevor grabbed his pillow and reared back to throw it at Tommy but froze when a boom and a shriek echoed from the bathroom.

  “What in the wor—”

  Levi called through the bathroom door, “Steve? Are you okay?”

  A weak “help” reached his ears. He wrenched open the door and halted, mouth hanging wide, as Trevor and Tommy crowded in beside him.

  Water flooded the mosaic tile floor. Droplets streaked the mirror, windows, and bathing partition. Bits of soggy toilet paper hung from the stone ceiling like streamers at a rained-out birthday party. A strong stench—vinegar?—filled the air. The sounds of dripping water and muffled moaning came from one of the stalls.

  “Uh, Steve . . . you in there?” Levi took hesitant steps toward it, thankful he still had his shoes on.

  Trevor splashed to his side and knocked on the stall door. “Steve?”

  “I . . . I’m okay.” Steve’s voice quavered.

  A faint smoky mist crept over and under the door. “What’s that?”

  Trevor shrugged. “Open the door, man.”

  “It’s gross.” Steve started blubbering.

  “What’s gross?” Tommy asked from Levi’s other side.

  “The . . . the toilet.” Steve made a loud sniffling sound.” “It . . . it threw up on me.”

  Trevor’s eyes bugged out. A look of disbelief crossed his face, then his cheeks reddened and his lips twitched. A tiny bubble of laughter burst from him.

  Levi looked away fast, barely containing the giggles fighting for escape. “What do you mean ‘threw up’? Like when you were . . .”

  By then both Trevor and Tommy were bright red with stifled laughter. Trevor stuffed his fist between his teeth. Tears ran down Tommy’s cheeks. The occasional snort made its way past the hand he’d clapped over his mouth.

  “I was just . . . you know . . . and there was this hissing and bubbling sound, and so I jumped up and . . . it just . . . went off.”

  At this, all three boys doubled over, cackling.

  “It’s not funny!” Steve snuffled some more.

  “No, it isn’t funny at all.” The low voice from the bathroom doorway brought an immediate end to their laughter.

  Levi turned to see Mr. Sylvester standing in a puddle of toilet water with his arms folded across his chest.

  “Who is responsible for this mess?” The hall chaperone crossed to them in two long strides.

  “Not me,” Tommy said in a tiny voice, and Trevor shook his head.

  “Steve—” Levi began.

  “It’s not my fault,” Steve said with a whimper. “The toilet just sort of puked all over the place.”

  A wad of soggy toilet paper unstuck from the ceiling and plopped onto Mr. Sylvester’s white-blond hair. He didn’t look at all amused. Even Trevor didn’t dare snigger.

  The elf plucked the wad from his head as he turned stern eyes on each of them. “Did you do something to that toilet?”

  “Uh-uh.”

  “No, sir.”

  “No way.”

  Mr. Sylvester crossed to the empty stall opposite. He yanked open the door and went inside, the top of his head visible above the high walls. His head disappeared, and Levi heard the clatter of the toilet top being lifted.

  Steve’s sniffling stopped.

  After a few seconds, Mr. Sylvester came out, his gray eyes more serious than before. He held up several small packets of something white. “It’s been sabotaged.”

  “Excuse me?” Levi frowned.

  Trevor surged toward the stall. “You mean like a bomb?”

  Mr. Sylvester nodded grimly then shook his head. “Not a real bomb, more like a bad prank.” He strode to Steve’s cubicle. “Are you, er . . . injured, boy?”

  “No, sir, just covered in . . . stuff.”

  Levi didn’t feel the slightest urge to giggle this time. An exploding toilet? That could’ve hurt Steve.

  Levi stood outside the Dominics’ study door. He’d delivered Mr. Sylvester’s note about the exploding toilets. Only the smallest twinkle of amusement had crept through Mr. Dominic’s eyes before the possible seriousness of the situation must’ve hit him. At that point, he’d darted off to warn the staff to check for other “combustible commodes,” as he’d put it. Thankfully, most of the campers were still outside enjoying the nice weather. Maybe the staff
could prevent further explosions.

  Levi took his time climbing the stairs, not in a hurry to get back to his room. He’d left Trevor scrounging through Steve’s wardrobe for clean clothes and Tommy heading to the kitchen for one of the Forests to help restore the bathroom. Mr. Sylvester had stayed to help Steve out of the stall so he could shower the toilet scum from his body. Levi sure didn’t want to be around for that.

  He decided to spend a few minutes in the chapel instead. On the fourth-floor landing, he pushed open the door to the north corridor and slipped inside. The faint scent of flowers and the soothing quiet enveloped him with peace. He sank into a pew and rested the back of his head against the wood, staring at the high stone ceiling over which occasional shafts of colored light played.

  Who had rigged the toilets? Was it somebody’s idea of a joke? Could Trevor have done such a thing? He did love practical jokes; he’d tried the rubber-roaches-in-the-underwear-drawer trick on Tommy only the day before. Plus, Trevor had been the first to laugh in the bathroom.

  But Steve could’ve gotten hurt. Trevor would never do something that might injure someone. Would he? No, of course not. His mischief wasn’t malicious.

  But Levi knew a few people whose mischief went beyond malicious. Hunter and his twin thugs. If anybody would think rigging toilets was funny, it’d be them. Levi hadn’t heard of any other mean pranks—at least not major ones—since the drawbridge thing, but Braden and Brock seemed the type who could only behave for so long.

  He popped up and headed out the door, intending to tell Trevor and the others what he’d figured out. But in the corridor, he hesitated, his focus on the door opposite the one leading to his room—Hunter’s hall. He’d only been in his enemy’s room once, and that time he’d almost gotten himself pitched out the fourth-floor window. Did he dare go there now? Would Hunter and his minions be cackling about the toilets blowing up all over the castle? Or maybe they’d only rigged the ones in Levi’s bathroom.

  With his jaw clenched so tight it hurt, he marched to Hunter’s corridor then paused to listen. Laughter rang from behind Room Two. Not Hunter’s, unless he’d changed rooms since last summer. Frowning, Levi knelt and pressed his ear to the dark wood.

  “How’d he do it?” Cackles followed the deep-voiced question.

  “He’s a genius,” said a voice Levi recognized as Hunter’s.

  “His brother’s sure not.” The deep voice sounded like Martin’s.

  A snort then Hunter again: “Nah, Brick’s dumb as they come.”

  “Dumber than a brick.” A harsh guffaw. “So when did they set it up?”

  “While everybody was outside.”

  “What’d they use?”

  Hunter laughed. “They just added a little extra something to an old recipe. Braden wouldn’t want me to give away his secrets.”

  “Won’t somebody wonder why ours are the only ones that work?”

  Another snort. “They don’t, stupid.”

  Martin’s short laugh didn’t sound amused. “But what about when we have to—”

  Someone gripped the hair at the top of Levi’s head and yanked until he thought his neck would break. Eyes watering, he let out a yelp.

  Braden’s face loomed over him. “It’s not polite to eavesdrop on other people’s conversations.”

  14

  A Serious Infraction

  Braden gave his hair another hard yank. Levi’s neck popped. He groaned.

  Brock’s face entered his line of sight, wearing a half-dim, half-nervous expression. “Hey, Braden, I think you better stop, or you’re gonna hurt him.”

  “You ought to know better than trying to think, Brick.” Braden glared at his twin. “Leave that to the smart people.”

  The door sprang open and Hunter appeared. A look of surprise preceded his usual smirk. “Catch something, Braden?”

  Braden’s gold chains jingled as he released an ugly laugh.

  “Well, bring him inside.” Hunter spread his arms wide in an exaggerated gesture of welcome.

  As Hunter stepped back, Martin howled, “That’s my foot!”

  Braden’s grip slackened just slightly.

  Levi didn’t waste the opportunity. He shot upright, ramming the top of his head into Braden’s chin, and sprinted down the hall. There was a squeal of pain followed by thudding footfalls. He ran faster. He reached the door, ripped it open, tore through it, and slammed it shut—right on somebody’s pale, freckled fingers.

  A shrieked curse word chased Levi across the landing. He galloped down the chapel corridor, skidded into his own hallway, and scrambled through the door to his room. He didn’t stop until he’d closed it behind him.

  He leaned against the cool wood, gasping for breath, eyes squeezed shut.

  “Uh, Levi?”

  He opened his eyes to his gaping roommates. Mr. Sylvester, mop in hand, stared at him from the bathroom doorway.

  “Hi.” Levi wiggled his fingers in a pathetic attempt at nonchalance.

  “What’s the deal?” Tommy asked. “Why were you running?”

  “Oh, um . . .” Levi’s gaze skipped from his friends to Mr. Sylvester, who looked both suspicious and confused. Should he tell the hall chaperone what he’d overheard? He chewed the inside of his cheek. Think. What exactly had Hunter and Martin said? Had they ever actually mentioned explosives or toilets or anything of the sort?

  No.

  It didn’t matter that Levi was absolutely certain Braden had rigged the toilets. He had no proof.

  His scalp tingled where Braden had probably left a bald spot, which wasn’t proof either. He’d gotten caught eavesdropping. Tattling that Braden pulled his hair would just make him sound like a big baby.

  “Uh, Levi?” Trevor said. “You still with us?”

  Lips puckered, Levi cut his eyes toward Mr. Sylvester. “I’m fine. Just . . . in a hurry to get back here.” He focused on Steve. “You okay?”

  As Steve shrugged, pink-cheeked, Levi flicked a glance at Mr. Sylvester.

  The hall chaperone still looked suspicious, but Alexander Forest, one of Albert’s many brothers, poked his head out of the bathroom at that moment. Alexander was almost identical to Albert except for the thin curly-tipped mustache making him resemble a dastardly villain in some old cartoon.

  “Somethin’ the matter?” He leaned against the doorframe and twisted his mustache. Clearly, he had no intention of cleaning up the mess by himself.

  Mr. Sylvester released a heavy sigh. “No, no, I’m coming.” His eyes searched Levi’s once more before he headed back into the bathroom.

  As soon as he was out of earshot, Trevor whispered, “What happened?”

  The four huddled up. Levi told them, as close to word-for-word as he could, what he’d overheard.

  Steve’s face reddened. “That . . . that . . . that snake! He deserves to get expelled.”

  “Yeah, but what could I do?”

  “He’s right, you know,” Tommy told Steve. “What they said was too vague to be proof they rigged the toilets.”

  Trevor fingered the half-dozen hairs on his chin. “But maybe we can prove they did it.”

  Steve’s eyes brightened a little. “How?”

  “Well . . .” Trevor shot a glance toward the bathroom door and lowered his voice. “What if we take a look in their room? There’s got to be some evidence of what they did.”

  “Whoa, wait a minute.” Levi held up a hand. “I scrounged through Hunter’s room last year and almost died for it. And just today . . .” He fingered his sore scalp.

  “I didn’t mean you. They’ll be on the watch for you hanging around their room, but not me.” His best friend flashed a reckless grin.

  Levi’s nerves zinged. “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t they be on the watch for you?”

  Trevor’s grin widened, and a slightly insane look entered his eyes. “Don’t worry about it. They won’t even recognize me.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Tommy sounded as anxious as Levi.


  Trevor only shook his head. “I got this. When the right time comes, you guys just have to keep ’em occupied.”

  “Occupied?” The word broke from Steve’s lips like a yelp. “How’re we supposed to do that?”

  After supper, Mr. Dominic lectured the campers for ten solid minutes. “Sometimes pranks get out of hand and somebody gets injured. That could’ve happened today. If you are the guilty party, I advise you to turn yourself in immediately.” His piercing green gaze landed on each camper’s face, lingering the longest on Brock’s and Braden’s.

  No one spoke or moved.

  “Supplies were stolen from the kitchen as well. That means your infraction also extends to theft.” Vinegar? And whatever that white stuff was? Maybe baking soda, but what about the “special” ingredient Hunter mentioned?

  Still no one said anything. Levi’s ears burned even though he knew he hadn’t set the explosions. Yes, he was pretty sure he knew who had, but what could he do about it? He sneaked a peek at Trevor, who mouthed I got this, then returned his gaze to the director.

  Mr. Dominic waited another moment. “Yes, well, you would do well to keep this in mind: such behavior is unacceptable, and I will not tolerate it. You will refrain from any such practical jokes from here on out or risk expulsion, is that clear?”

  Levi murmured, “Yes, sir,” along with the rest of the campers.

  “I trust there will be no further need to address this issue.”

  Again the kids chorused, “Yes, sir.”

  The director nodded. “Now then, on a much pleasanter note, tomorrow after chapel and telephone time, we will take any interested persons to the beach for a swim.”

  “Yes!” Trevor pumped his fist in the air.

  Most of the kids laughed and exchanged excited chatter with their friends. Mr. Dominic smiled. “I quite agree, young man. I quite agree.”

  But Levi didn’t agree. In fact, his stomach, grumbling with hunger seconds earlier, now felt queasy with dread.