by Amy C. Blake
Table of Contents
Castle Island
Camp Classic
The Precipice
The Castle
A Tad Different
Castle Island?
Ears
Confusion
The Moat
The Campout
Weakness
Hunter
Heat
The Cliff Returns
Logic
The Tower
Mafia Beatings?
Fire!
Friends
Answers
Beyond Fear
The Library
A Spy
The Dream
Locked Out
Pure Evil
The Boss
Uncle Filbert
Della
Telling All
Sara
Plans
The Search
Camp Classic Olympics
Fencing
A Final Game of Chess
Fencing Finals
Terracaelum
The Trojan Horse
Tricked
The Search
Lucien
The Elf
Weakness
Journey’s End
Monica and Trevor
Keep Fighting
Going Home
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
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 Hallway Publishing, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. All rights reserved.
Hallway Publishing
45 Lafayette Road #114
North Hampton, NH 03870
www.hallwaypublishing.com
Contact Information: [email protected]
The Trojan Horse Traitor
COPYRIGHT © 2015 by Amy C. Blake
First Edition, October 2015
Cover Art by Hallway Publishing
Typesetting by Odyssey Books
ISBN: 978-1-941058-34-3
Published in the United States of America
For the glory of Christ alone
For my wonderful husband Charles
And for my four awesome kids: Elias, Charis, Jonas, and Lukas
I love you guys
Chapter 1
Castle Island
Levi Prince reached the top of the sandstone steps and read the canvas sign thrashing in the wind like it desperately wanted to escape: WELCOME TO CAMP CLASSIC: YOUR SUMMER-LONG IMMERSION INTO THE CLASSICAL WORLD. Another gust of wind nearly ripped the jacket from his back. Two seagulls dive-bombed him, making Levi duck and cover.
Somehow not feeling all that welcome, Levi glanced back down the steps to the beach and the endless blue-green water stretching as far as he could see. As he watched, the waves churned higher, pummeling the red-and-white ferry he, his family, and a bunch of other campers and their families had exited not fifteen minutes earlier.
Castle Island, the tiny, castle-free (as far as he could tell) speck in the middle of vast Lake Superior, was a full three hours from the mainland. And it would be his home for the summer. His nerves prickled, half in dread of the unknown, half in anticipation of a summer spent miles and miles away from his younger sister and brothers.
Most of the time he liked homeschooling, especially when he finished his work early and got to do whatever he wanted all afternoon. Or when his friends at church told him about their hour-long bus rides to and from school and the horrors of their school uniforms. His uniform alternated between pajamas and sweats, depending on his mood.
Yeah, homeschooling was good. Except that it meant he never got a break from Abby, Zeke, and Jer.
And boy did he ever need a break. He tightened his grip on his Camp Classic invitation, the one that came in the mail back in March. His ticket to a sibling-free summer. It had taken him most of the next six weeks to convince his parents to let him go. He’d been offended they didn’t think he could handle himself for a couple of months without them.
Now, though, the isolation of this place made him wonder what he’d gotten himself into. It didn’t help that a purple-black mass seeped across the morning sky like a bruise, and the ferry bucked hard against its tie ropes. The whole setting made the hair rise on the back of his neck.
He adjusted the collar of his jacket, along with his outlook. So it was going to rain. No big deal. He wouldn’t bail now. He needed this summer on his own.
Levi turned away from the view and toward the path between live oaks and pines he’d seen the others take earlier. He’d taken his time trudging across the sand, hoping to separate himself from his siblings. Between Abby’s nonstop pouting because she couldn’t stay at Camp Classic with Levi, and Zeke and Jer running in circles like monkeys on Mountain Dew, well . . . he kind of hoped if he kept his distance, the other campers wouldn’t know they were related to him.
Levi had only gone a few feet along the path when he heard running footsteps from behind and somebody rammed a bony shoulder into his arm. He whirled around to face a kid who oozed disdain all the way from his perfect black hair to his brand new Nikes. Levi couldn’t help but run a hand over his own hair—so red it was almost orange, and kinked into a thousand ringlets despite the super-short cut he’d gotten only two days earlier.
“Watch where you’re going, runt,” the other kid said with a sneer.
Runt? “Excuse me?” Yeah, Levi was scrawny, but this guy wasn’t exactly the Hulk.
The kid snatched the invitation from Levi’s hand.
“Hey,” Levi protested as he made a swipe for his letter.
“Calm down. I’m just looking.” The boy made a big show of opening and reading the letter then looked up at Levi through narrowed eyes. “Leviticus Isaiah Prince?” Disbelief flattened his tone.
“Yeah?” What had Levi’s parents been thinking? Between the name and the orange afro, he might as well pin a sign to his own back: Target.
“You actually had the nerve to come?” The hatred in the boy’s words pushed Levi backward a step. The right side of the kid’s upper lip curled, exposing a single white canine tooth. A Doberman on the verge of attack.
“Um, why wouldn’t I?” Levi couldn’t decide whether to be mad, scared, or just plain confused. This kid must have him mixed up with somebody else because Levi knew he’d never met him before in his life.
“You don’t belong here.” Doberman boy let out a growl. Literally.
Levi’s mouth fell open. What kind of person growled at random strangers?
Though his whole body tensed to run away, Levi forced himself to stay put. He had to get that letter. Without it, the camp people might not let him stay. “Look, I don’t know what your problem is. Just give me back my—”
Doberman kid snarled, “I’m gonna make your summer a living nightmare, runt.” He slammed into Levi, knocking him to the ground. Then the kid tossed the letter into the wind, spun on his heel, and raced along the path toward camp.
Stunned, Levi stared after him, half-expecting to see a dog tail sprout from the kid’s rear end.
Yeah, he definitely wasn’t feeling the big Camp Classic welcome.
Chapter 2
Camp Classic
Paper snapped in the wind, bringing Levi to his senses. He surged to his feet and snagged his invitation seconds before it blew off the ridge and sailed far away on the lake. He glanced over his shoulder at the trail Dog Boy had taken. Maybe losin
g his invitation wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all.
No, he wanted to stay. He could put up with one slightly unbalanced bully. Everyone else had to be perfectly normal. He stuffed his invitation deep in his front pocket.
Levi followed the path, careful to keep his steps slow so he would avoid another encounter with the creepy kid. He came to the back of a wooden building, rounded the corner, and took in the camp area. Long, low buildings like Iroquois longhouses surrounded a grassy central area. A line of people stretched to the door of the building across the green. Levi spotted his dad a little way from the door. Alone, thankfully, which meant his mom must have taken the others somewhere to run off their hyperactivity.
Before Levi could start toward his dad, a circle of multicolored lights drew his eyes farther north to the mountain peak he had heard gave Castle Island its name, though Levi thought it looked nothing like a castle. For a split second, he thought he saw some sort of building on the cliff, backlit by the rainbow lights. Then the lights vanished, and the peak looked like . . . well, a peak.
Levi frowned. What was all that about? He hadn’t heard any thunder. Not that the lights looked like lightning. More like the rainbow-filled bubbles his youngest brother Jer loved to blow from his supersized bubble wand, just hundreds of times bigger. The northern lights maybe? Did those even appear during the day?
With a shrug, Levi walked toward his dad, his gaze skimming the families clustered around nervous-looking kids near his age, all of whom he knew were being taught according to the same strict, classical education system that he was.
He passed an elderly African-American woman and a girl with her nose stuck in a book. Good grief, he liked to read, but now? As he moved past another girl, this one with waist-length, golden-blonde hair, she turned a bright smile on him. Levi tried to smile back, but the extremely tall woman with her moved between them and leveled a frown at Levi. Like some sort of bodyguard. Weird.
Levi passed Dog Boy standing alone halfway up the line. The bully slouched with his arms across his chest and his chin lifted in defiance, as if daring anybody to challenge him. Levi shook his head. The jerk must have cut in front of all these people in line. Where were the kid’s parents? They needed to teach him a few manners.
Levi lowered his head and hurried to where his dad waited with Levi’s duffel bag and bedroll at his feet.
Dad faced him with a smile. “Hey, I thought I was going to have to go looking for you.” He waved off Levi’s stammered explanations. “It’s fine. You’re just in time. We’re next.”
Levi glanced at the building. The sign above the door read DINING HALL. Good to know where the food was. At least he wouldn’t starve.
His hand strayed to his pocket to make sure his invitation was still safe.
Dad gestured toward the cabin area. “What do you think of the place?”
“Um . . .” Levi’s eyes roamed the grassy area he figured was for archery and fencing and all that stuff he would much rather skip. Just because the campers were classically educated didn’t mean they all had to be knights in shining armor, right? Plus, that kid from the ridge would probably love to stick a sword in Levi. Why couldn’t they do something normal, like soccer or even basketball or football? Something that didn’t involve weapons.
The dining hall door opened. A pig-tailed girl in overall shorts, her freckled face streaked with tears, walked outside with a heavyset couple who patted her back and offered her tissues.
Not exactly reassuring. Levi cut his eyes toward his dad. Maybe he’d say this wasn’t the summer camp for Levi after all.
Instead, Dad cocked his chin toward the door. “Go ahead and get registered, son. I’ll wait for you out here.”
Levi swallowed hard. “Oh, um, okay.” He’d expected his dad to at least go in with him. Especially if the registration people tended to make campers cry.
Levi went inside alone. Tables and folding chairs like the ones his church used on potluck Sundays filled the large open room. In a kitchen area beyond the tables, undersized people scurried around. Midgets, maybe? A gray-haired man who couldn’t have been as tall as seven-year-old Jer carried a tray full of paper bags. He set it on a table by the wall and brushed at the mustard smears on his white apron. Grey beard-hairs poked from a hairnet on his chin.
“That’s the last of the sandwiches, love,” he said to someone out of sight, his voice deep and full despite his small stature.
A tiny plump woman in a blue apron came into view. She held a package of juice boxes in her stubby arms. “All right, dear. I’ll just finish off with the drinks then.” She crossed out of sight then reappeared, puffing, at an open pass-through window, where she plunked the juice boxes beside a bucket of Coke cans. She hovered there, peering at Levi through thick glasses that made her look like a dragonfly.
Levi waved. She didn’t wave back.
“Your invitation, please?”
The soft voice drew Levi’s attention to the registration table where a white-haired lady sat in a folding chair. Wrinkles covered her face, but she held her back straight and her chin tilted upward. She wore khakis and a baby-blue Camp Classic polo that seemed too casual for her. When a shaft of sunlight shot through the window, it formed a halo around her head, reminding him of the Madonna paintings he’d seen in art appreciation class at homeschool co-op last year. Though a little intimidating, the woman didn’t look the type to drive girls to tears.
She cleared her throat. He’d been gawking like an idiot. Face hot, he fished his invitation from his pocket. It looked like he’d dug it out of a trash compactor. He made a useless attempt at smoothing it. “Sorry.”
“That’s all right.” She scanned the page. “Leviticus?” Her bright blue eyes darted to his face, and she stilled with her lips slightly parted.
“It’s Levi,” he finally said, partly to break the uncomfortable silence and partly because he couldn’t stand the thought of being called Leviticus the entire summer.
When she didn’t respond right away, he bit his lip. Had he irritated her? Maybe this was the part where she made people cry.
“I’m happy to have you here, Levi.” Her mouth curved into a gentle smile as she returned his letter. “You may carry your things to the boys’ cabin—the one to your left as you leave—and get settled in to a bunk.”
“Yes, ma’am, thank you.” He took a step toward the door.
“By the way,” she said and he turned back. “My name is Sophia Dominic. My husband and I direct Camp Classic.” She reached out a veined hand.
He took it. A shock like winter static bit his palm. Though he hadn’t noticed any open doors or windows, a burst of wind shivered his hair. Mrs. Dominic’s eyes widened in a look of surprise. Or was that fear?
The wind stopped as suddenly as it started. Totally freaked out—though he couldn’t say exactly why—Levi yanked back his hand. “N-n-nice to meet you.”
He darted to the doorway, barely registering Mrs. Dominic’s murmured words, “Lest I miss it, I suppose. Though how I could, I can’t imagine. He is so like him.”
Levi burst outside and ran for the boys’ cabin.
Before he reached it, his dad snagged his arm. “You get checked in all right, son?”
Levi managed a nod.
Dad frowned, probably trying to figure out why Levi’s face was so pale. “You think you’ll be okay here for the summer?”
Levi released a slow breath. Would he be okay? Had the whole thing with Mrs. Dominic been as creepy as it felt? He rubbed his palm where the static had bit. No wonder the pigtailed girl had been crying. Still, maybe it was nothing. Maybe the wind came from an open window in the kitchen. But then why had Mrs. Dominic looked so rattled? And what had she said? Lest I miss it or some odd thing.
Dad squeezed his arm. “Levi?”
Levi gnawed the inside of his cheek. What if summer at Camp Classic was worse than summer at home?
What should I do, God?
No answer. Not that he had expected God
to speak out loud, but some sense of the right decision would have been nice.
He sighed. At least he had until after the orientation lunch to make up his mind. Maybe in a couple of hours Camp Classic would seem more normal. He met his dad’s gaze. “It’s fine.”
“Listen, we have to leave earlier than we thought.” Dad eyed him, probably watching for him to hyperventilate. “Like in about twenty minutes.”
Levi’s gut dropped like he was on a Cedar Point rollercoaster. “So soon? Why?”
“Storm’s moving in. Shouldn’t be here for hours, but the camp director said he’d feel better if we got going right away.”
“Oh.” So much for a couple of hours to decide. He had to choose. Should he go home with his family, basically admitting he was a big baby? Or should he suck it up and stay here with a bully, a freaky old lady, weird lights in the sky . . . oh, and a bunch of lethal weapons? Yay.
“Walk with me, son.” Dad guided Levi toward the woods behind the dorm. “I want to pray for you before I go. I know God has a lot to teach you this summer.”
Levi’s churning gut calmed slightly.
A little later, Levi entered the boys’ dorm. It smelled sour, like his bedroom last August when he had found a pair of Zeke’s sweaty underpants dried stiff underneath his bed. He glanced around the long open room with rows of bunk beds to the right and to the left. Half a dozen boys were scattered throughout, including the bully, who sat on a top bunk to the left. His back was to Levi.
I’m thinking my bed’s to the right.
Levi headed down the central aisle, passing bunk after bunk, each piled with somebody’s stuff, when he finally spotted an empty bed by the wall—a bottom bunk. It figured. Still, it was better than sleeping near that Doberman creep. He tossed his stuff onto the cardboard-thin mattress, planning to unpack after the ferry left.
A flushing sound filtered from the open doorway at the foot of his bed. Wonderful. He got to sleep by the toilets. If it got anywhere near as hot here as it did back home in Columbus, he’d soon be wishing his bunk smelled as sweet as Zeke’s dirty underpants.