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

by Amy C. Blake

  “What purpose?”

  Silence.

  “Fine, don’t tell me.” Levi had to focus on the problem at hand anyway, not whatever was going on in this crazy Dvergar’s head. He had to get Morgan out of this place. “Let her go.”

  Regin released Morgan’s arm and raised his hands high, as if Levi had a submachine gun trained on him.

  Levi snagged Morgan’s wrist and pulled her to his side, not taking his eyes from Regin. “The torch. Give it here.” He let go of Morgan and reached out.

  Regin thrust the torch toward him.

  Levi hesitated. How was he going to carry the hammer and the torch and drag Morgan around? He couldn’t trust her to stay with him. She still seemed to be in some sort of trance.

  “I’ll carry the torch.”

  Morgan’s guttural whisper made Levi forgot to keep his eyes on Regin. Was her voice that hoarse from being underground so long? She held out a trembling hand, and Regin gave it to her. Levi really hoped she didn’t drop it.

  He had other problems to consider, though. Like the fact that he didn’t have any rope to bind Regin. Morgan didn’t even have ribbons in her hair that he could use.

  “Don’t follow us or I’ll have to bash you with this thing,” Levi said, waving the hammer around in what was supposed to be a threatening manner.

  Regin backed up a few more paces, his eyes lingering on Mjolnir in a look that was part hunger, part fear.

  “Come on.” Levi took hold of Morgan’s upper arm, feeling the goose bumps on her skin. Too bad he didn’t have a jacket for her. He started toward the muffled sounds he prayed came from the river, shooting glances at Regin for as long as the torchlight reached him. Regin didn’t move, but Levi was well aware that the Dvergar could follow them with a stealth he’d never detect. That meant he couldn’t put the hammer in its holster no matter how much his hand ached from carrying it.

  As they walked, Morgan’s trembling increased along with Levi’s anxiety. What was wrong with her? Was she that cold? Could she be hypothermic? He wasn’t exactly hot in the chilly damp of the tunnels, but his nerves made his hands sweat. Hopefully he wouldn’t drop the hammer.

  Maybe Morgan was just scared. Maybe if he talked a little she’d calm down.

  “Don’t worry, Morgan. We’ll get out of here okay.” He whispered so he could still hear the river and, if the little creep tried it, Regin sneaking up behind them.

  Plus, in this creepy place, who knew what other monsters might follow his voice?

  Though Morgan’s upper arm tensed beneath his hand, she didn’t speak.

  “I’m hoping we can follow the river back to the castle or maybe through some tunnel to the outside. Worst case, we have to jump in and let the water carry us. I made it out that way before, so we should be okay.” I hope.

  Her silence grated on his raw nerves. “What’s wrong?” He spoke more sharply than he intended. “You think I can’t handle this? Well, I have the hammer.” He held it in front of her. His irritation grew as she kept walking in silence. “You don’t think I’ll use it if I have to? I can and I will. I’m just not some Neanderthal who likes hitting people over the head if I can help it.”

  Still no answer.

  Fine. If she didn’t want to talk, so be it. He stomped along, listening to the growing hum of water and the drip, drip, drip in caves and tunnels they passed. He didn’t hear shuffling or any other hint of Regin’s presence.

  After a while the silence and shadows got to him, as did his hollow stomach, which growled loudly. “I can get you back inside the castle, you know.” Again her arm muscle tightened. “It’s true.” He glared at her as though she’d challenged him. “I have the key.” He released her arm and smacked at his chest where the key dangled from its chain.

  Her head whipped around so fast his jaw dropped.

  “Show it to me.”

  Again her voice sounded strange, deeper and raspier than he’d ever heard it. And her eyes . . . they were cold and hard, the blue so pale they almost looked silver. Levi’s skin convulsed into solid gooseflesh, as though a million insects crawled up and down his back. He half-expected her pale lips to open and show fangs like the she-monster across the mountains.

  She relaxed slightly and glanced away, but he watched her with care, tension filling his every muscle. Creepy.

  “I mean, show it to me, please, Levi,” she said in a higher-pitched, gentler voice.

  Levi frowned at his own overactive imagination. The darkness must really be getting to him. He pulled the key from beneath his shirt, somehow comforted by the cold, hard jewels against his palm. Morgan was okay, probably just exhausted. She must’ve been awake all night worrying about her momma, and then this.

  He held up the key for her to see. Despite the oppressive darkness, the gold and jewels caught the flickering torchlight and flashed it forth, scattering ribbons of light around the cavern.

  Morgan gave a sharp gasp, and Levi looked up at her. Her eyes were fixed on the key. She licked her lips hungrily, and her burning gaze flicked to his. For a second he thought she was going to attack him, snatch the key, who knew what else, but she didn’t.

  Instead, she spun on her heel and ran off into the tunnel ahead.

  Shocked, he stood frozen, watching the torchlight bounce away, leaving him in the deepening darkness.

  39

  Basilisks

  “Wait, Morgan!” Levi sprinted after her, sliding in damp patches of smut, the key thumping against his chest with every footfall. The torchlight shrank so fast he could no longer see his surroundings. As he chased the fading flame, he could only pray he didn’t smash into a low-hanging rock.

  What was Morgan’s deal? How could she leave him alone in the dark like that? What was she running from?

  He tried to quiet his ragged breaths to hear if something followed, but he couldn’t slow his pace to look back. He needed to catch Morgan because she sure wasn’t acting like herself. She needed to get back to the castle fast.

  The underlying hum of water turned into a roar, and the underground river sparkled in the torchlight. His breath hitched at the sight of Morgan on the opposite end of the stone bridge. Holding the torch aloft, she peered back as though waiting for him to catch up. He didn’t want to step onto that bridge, but he couldn’t trust her not to take off again. So he galloped across the slick stones, praying he didn’t slip and fall into the icy water.

  When he reached the halfway point, the point where he’d leapt over the edge last time, Morgan darted ahead into the tunnel.

  “No, wait!”

  She didn’t wait. He skidded down the bridge and into the darkness beyond, to where Morgan again paused around the bend. Without any hesitation, he latched onto her wrist, vowing not to let go until he got her safely to the castle.

  “Don’t run off again,” he whispered harshly. “You about gave me a heart attack.”

  Warily, he peered ahead. The blackness sucked in the flickering torchlight and devoured it whole. That’s when it hit him: They’d crossed the bridge Regin had warned him about.

  Basilisks! With a gasp, he screwed his eyes shut tight. He squeezed Morgan’s wrist and tightened his grip on the hammer.

  “Close your eyes.” He spoke so quietly he couldn’t be sure Morgan heard, so he raised his voice a little. “Shut your eyes, Morgan. There’re basilisks over here.”

  He heard her grunt softly and could only guess she understood. For several long moments, they stood in a silence filled only by the sound of the river behind and the echoing emptiness of the tunnels ahead. What should they do? Keep going or turn back?

  “Come back!” The bellow from behind nearly forced Levi’s eyes open. Instead, he squeezed them tighter. “You must come back to this side of the river!”

  Regin.

  Levi couldn’t let the Dvergar capture them again. “Come on, Morgan, but don’t look.” He pulled her forward into the tunnel, shuffling his feet to feel for obstacles, careful to keep his eyes closed.

>   After a while Regin stopped calling and, other than their own muffled footsteps, heavy silence fell. The air grew thick and smelled rancid like something dead. Levi’s breaths grew shallower until he panted like a dog. The desire to open his eyes just a slit was so strong he wanted to cover them with his hands, but he couldn’t let go of Morgan. And he wouldn’t let go of the hammer.

  Suddenly, his feet tangled in something, and he went down hard. The hammer clanged against the stone floor, jarring all the way up his arm and rattling his teeth, though he managed to hang on to it. Morgan toppled to the ground beside him.

  “You okay?” he whispered.

  She didn’t answer, but he could feel her shift beside him. The rancid stink was almost overwhelming now. Hesitantly, he let go of her arm and stretched tentative fingers to find what had tripped him. His fingertips brushed something like ridged, whorled paper. It crackled beneath his touch.

  “What in the world?” Levi ran his hand along it, discovering that it extended farther than his arm’s length. It felt like a flimsy shell he could easily crumble. Like an empty snake skin.

  His groping fingers froze. Basilisk skin. His heartbeats burst into a fireworks finale.

  “Morgan, we’ve gotta get out of here.” He stood slowly, pulling her up with him.

  Even then, she didn’t reply.

  Barely shuffling on his tiptoes, he inched to the right, away from the empty skin, hoping the basilisk who’d outgrown it wasn’t anywhere near. After he’d moved several feet, the hammer struck the tunnel wall with a dull clank that sent his pulse into triple time. With a gulp, he tucked the hammer into his side and ran his elbow along the stone, seeking a basilisk-free escape route. He’d much rather go back and face the river with that lake monster or even Regin than some horrible basilisk. But how was he supposed to find his way when he couldn’t open his eyes?

  It was maddening, feeling the heat of the torch Morgan held, seeing its red glow through his closed lids, but unable to open his eyes and use the light to find his way out.

  Wait. The torchlight. Could basilisks see fire? Or smell smoke? Would it draw the beast? Or maybe basilisks feared fire?

  What should they do? Douse the light? Leave it someplace? Keep it close?

  Something heavy scraped against the rough ground, but he couldn’t tell which direction it came from. Oh, please, oh, please, oh, please. He moved faster, rubbing his elbow against the cold stone so the flesh chafed. He could only pray they were moving away from the monster, not toward it. There had to be a side tunnel around here somewhere.

  The scraping sound came again, this time from much nearer. Morgan’s wrist trembled beneath his hand. It was all he could do to keep his eyes shut. He could practically feel the monster stalking them, but where was it?

  Just keep your eyes shut!

  Didn’t basilisks have poisonous fangs? Did they strike first? Or swallow their victims alive?

  God, help. We’re gonna die.

  The wall ended so abruptly Levi fell sideways with a stifled yelp. The scraping sound became an excited thumping. Levi imagined the snake-monster writhing at the sound of him, turning its massive body and heading straight for him.

  Sweat dripped from his brow as he righted himself and took off, dragging Morgan behind him. After several moments at a blind, panic-driven sprint, he slowed and tried to listen over his and Morgan’s harsh breaths. Nothing. Had they lost the beast?

  “Enough. Open your eyes.”

  The hoarse voice Morgan had used earlier so surprised Levi that he peeked at her through his lashes. She stared at him, her eyes wide open. She didn’t appear frightened at all, but the emptiness in her eyes scared him almost as much as the lurking basilisk. After a few seconds, she blinked and looked away.

  “We should go this way,” she said, this time in the higher-pitched voice, and pointed straight ahead.

  Too shocked to protest, Levi followed her lead.

  They rounded a curve in the tunnel and continued walking, this time with her pulling him. Though she kept her eyes wide, he peeped through slits with his head down, ready to squeeze his eyes shut at the first hint of movement. When they reached a left-branching tunnel, a greenish light caught at the jeweled key resting against his shirt. He risked a quick glance ahead at an opening in the rock. A draft ruffled his hair and made the torch spark.

  Could there be an exit nearby? Excited, he forged ahead of Morgan, only vaguely aware that her breathing had changed to shallow, nasal spurts. The tunnel walls brightened to green—not the spongy green of moss, but sparkling green like the emerald in the key—and gradually melded into huge green crystal rods unlike any he’d ever seen.

  But there was no exit in sight.

  Suddenly, Levi realized he couldn’t hear the river anymore, only a soft plinking not far away, as if an underground pool hovered nearby. He glanced at Morgan. Her eyes were fixed on the key, her pupils seeming to suck the light into their depths. He caught a glimpse of small white teeth between her parted lips.

  “We need to find our way out of here.” His lips felt rigid with a fear he didn’t understand. This was just Morgan, after all, but she looked like a wild creature on the hunt. “We should go back.” He took a backward step, away from the girl who once reminded him so much of his little sister.

  She lifted her eyes from the key and smiled, her expression that of the Morgan he knew aboveground. “It’s okay. We’ll find our way.”

  He relaxed a fraction. Maybe he’d imagined her peculiar looks before. Maybe the darkness and the strain were messing with his mind. Still, he took another step back. She glided forward a few paces until the space between them shrank to almost nothing. “We should go.” He pointed behind her. “Back that way.”

  “Yeah.” Her voice was soothing.

  But she moved still nearer, making him inch backward.

  He closed his fist around the key, quelling the rainbows of light. Her eyes narrowed and a hiss escaped her. She lunged at him, capturing his right wrist in a vice grip. Wincing, he watched Morgan’s small pale hand force up his forearm with a strength she couldn’t possibly possess. She dropped the torch to free her other hand and began prying open his fingers.

  He could only blink at her in the flame flickering by her feet, even as one finger after another gave way beneath hers. “What are you doing?”

  Her nostrils flared. A flicker of silver like liquid nitrogen blazed in her eyes.

  “Who are you?” He whispered the words, though he knew the answer.

  Deceptor. The shape-shifter had assumed Morgan’s form.

  Even as Levi fought to keep the key gripped in his right hand, the hammer weighed down his left. Mjolnir. Slowly, he eased it upward into strike position, hoping not to attract Morgan/Deceptor’s attention to it.

  Whack him! Levi tried, but how could he hit Morgan? Had Deceptor somehow possessed her? What would happen to her if he brained her with the hammer?

  Oh, God, I don’t know what to do, he prayed silently as Morgan forced open another finger. The hammer trembled in his fist, inches from the back of her head.

  A sudden hurricane wind blasted him backward. He fell flat, his back striking hard stone, and his head shattering a pool of frigid water. The wind that had rescued him and his friends last year . . . the Spirit. But Morgan still had an iron grip on his wrist, despite the billows buffeting her small body. He sat upright, ready to fight her off.

  Something snatched him by the collar and yanked him into the air.

  Basilisk!

  Levi gagged as his shirt tightened across his throat then caught under his jaw. His wrist felt like it would snap as Morgan struggled to keep hold of him, shrieking like a rabid panther, mouth gaping black, eyes fully silver. He dangled in mid-air. How could he ever have thought that snarling, spitting, cursing animal was Morgan?

  A jolt exploded in his belly as he dropped. He sucked in a lungful of oxygen before his body fractured the surface of the pool. Plunged into icy green water and propelled through
the depths by some unseen force, he could only scream with his mind and fight the urge to open his mouth. Unable to shut his eyes against the pressure, he watched his dizzying rush downward, through a circle of rock, and up toward pale bubbling light. He tried to keep hold of Mr. Austin’s hammer, but the force of the water twisted his wrist until he had to let it go.

  Just when he thought he must give in to the overpowering urge to inhale, his face broke the surface. Guzzling precious air, he forgot for a moment the thing still thrusting him along, swimming faster than the rushing current of what must be the underground river.

  Fighting the speed, he maneuvered so he could peek over his shoulder. After all, instant death from a basilisk’s stare had to be better than slow death wherever it was taking him. What he saw forced the air from his lungs: a long, greenish-black scaly neck that disappeared into the frothing water. Twin jets of hot air blasted near his ear. A wave of faintness pulled him under, drowning him in oblivion.

  40

  Pressie

  Levi woke to a mouthful of sand. He sat up sputtering and found himself face-to-face with those bright green eyes he’d had nightmares about all summer.

  He backpedaled, shooting sand into the creature’s face.

  It sneezed, shooting monster snot all over him. He wiped gray-green slime from his face, all while propelling himself backwards on his rump. The creature opened its mouth wide, yellow fangs glistening in the sunlight. It was going to eat him!

  Levi tried to scream, but only an odd gagging sound came out.

  A rumbling wheeze echoed from deep within the monster’s huge chest. Its eyes watered. Its horse head reared back and a cackling grunt burst from its still-open mouth. It didn’t even try to nibble at him.