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Authors: Robert J. Harris

Thor Is Locked in My Garage! (7 page)

BOOK: Thor Is Locked in My Garage!
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“Ka-BOOM!” cried Susie, pumping the air with her fist.

“You see, Spinny,” said Greg. “All it took was a bit of Norse magic, or something.”

“Pretty clever,” Susie admitted, thumping him proudly on the shoulder.

They were all flushed with the excitement of the chase and dizzy with relief at their escape. Lewis leaned against a snow-covered wall until the heaving in his stomach had settled.

“We still have to find Loki,” Thor reminded them.

“The mist’s clearing,” Lewis noticed. “That should make it easier.”

“And now he doesn’t have his ice monsters to protect him,” said Thor with a vengeful gleam in his eye.

Once they had stacked the skis again, they advanced in a group across the cathedral grounds. The air continued to clear until they spotted Loki perched on the edge of a stone tomb near St Rule’s Tower. He smirked at Thor.

“Thor, you palooka, I should have known you’d show up.”

“Loki, you ratsnout, justice has come for you,” Thor threatened.

“Always the blowhard,” said Loki, sliding to the ground. “And look at the mess you’ve made of my toys. All that time
I spent making them, and you’ve smashed them to pieces.” He gestured at the scattered fragments of the ice monsters. “It was the same when we were kids, like the time you knocked down my sandcastle.”

“It was full of scorpions,” Thor reminded him.

“So tell me,” said Loki, “what do you hear from the other gods – the old gang? Odin still a wise guy? Tyr’s temper as bad as ever?”

“I don’t run into them much,” said Thor.

“I expect they’re wandering around doing whatever it is mortals do to pass the time,” said Loki. “Too bad. I’d like to see the looks on their faces when they get a load of my latest caper.”

“Larry, whatever you think you’re up to, it’s over now,” said Greg. “Why don’t you hand over the treasures peacefully, before Thor has to get rough with you.”

“You can probably catch the next shuttle back to the ice planet of Hoth,” said Susie.

“The treasures, yes, that’s what it’s all about, I suppose,” said Loki with a sly smile. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a gold ring, which he tossed into the air and caught. “Recognise this, meathead?”

“Ja, it’s the Ring Draupnir,” said Thor.

“I found it under the gravestone of a man named Bell,” said Loki, holding the ring up to his eye and peering through it. “Pretty good gag, eh,
ring, bell
.”

“These treasures don’t belong to you, Loki,” said Thor, extending a hand for the ring.

“Really?” said Loki. “What will you give me for it?”

He flipped the ring, spinning it into the air like a coin. Immediately Thor stretched out Mjolnir and frowned in
concentration. The ring froze in mid-air then shot towards Thor and stuck to the head of his hammer. Thor pulled it loose and clasped it in his fist.

Loki seemed unconcerned. “I should have expected you to pull a dirty trick like that,” he laughed. “You’re such a killjoy.”

“I don’t understand,” Lewis said to Greg. “Thor took the ring off him and all he does is laugh.”

“Maybe he’s finally snapped,” said Greg. “He always was pretty batty.”

Thor took a menacing step towards Loki. “And now for the reckoning,” he threatened.

“Not so fast, you lummox,” said Loki raising his hand. “I still have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

He slid the Fimbulwinter box out of his pocket and chortled.

“Better take that off him before he conjures up any more monsters,” said Lewis.

“Monsters?” said Loki. “That’s kids’ stuff. Try this!” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder to indicate what was coming up behind him.

“By the beard of Odin!” Thor gasped.

The three youngsters were speechless at what they saw.

A wall of snow ten metres high was rolling towards them from the far end of the cathedral. It covered the whole breadth of the grounds and was coming at them with the force of a tidal wave. Loki turned and walked towards it, the snow parting to let him pass through. They heard him laugh as he disappeared into the whiteness.

“Run!” yelled Greg.

The four of them spun round and ran as the deluge of snow swept across the cathedral to bury them.

The torrent of snow engulfed walls and tombstones, casting spumes of ice into the air at every impact. Ahead of them was the steep bank of snow piled up against the outer wall.

“Go! Go!” yelled Thor, waving them on. “I’ll get the skis!”

Greg, Lewis and Susie jumped at the snowy bank, digging their feet in and clawing their way up. As they climbed, Thor grabbed the skis and hurled them two at a time high over their heads.

When he reached the top of the bank, Lewis turned, panting, to see the tidal wave of white flooding the cathedral. It overtook Thor as he was scrambling up after them and when it hit he was completely engulfed.

A flurry of flakes gusted over them as the snow crashed against the wall like a wave smashing into a rock.

“Sven!” cried Susie. “Are you okay?”

“Don’t tell me he’s buried again!” Greg exclaimed.

“It’s still not my fault!” Lewis protested.

Feverishly scanning the sea of snow, he saw a hand sticking out. He floundered over and seized hold of it. To his relief, Thor’s thick fingers twitched in his grasp. “He’s alive! Now help me dig him out!” he called to the others.

Working together, they shifted the snow away. Bit by bit, the Norse god emerged. First his arm and then his thick blond hair came into view. Then his head popped clear.

He blinked the icy crystals out of his blue eyes and worked his broad shoulders loose. Reaching up with his other hand, he managed to drag himself up beside the three youngsters.

“Thanks,” Thor panted. “You are worthy companions to the god of thunder.”

All together they slid down the other side to land sitting on the street below. The realisation that they were safe instead of buried started them all laughing at once. Thor helped them to their feet and they stood, brushing the snow off themselves.

Lewis shivered. “Now that we’re not running around, I’m
frozen
.”

“You’re right, Lewis,” said Greg. “We need to go and warm up some place.”

“Look, there’s a light on in the Beacon Tea Room,” said Susie, pointing down North Street. “I bet Desmond’s open for business.”

“Let’s hope so,” said Lewis. “I could do with a hot drink.”

They tramped over to where the light shone brightly through the lace curtains and stacked their skis against the wall. A bell above the door tinkled as they stepped inside. There were half a dozen tables in the tea room covered with red and white checked cloths. On the walls were photographs of harbours and fishing boats.

The owner, Desmond Soutar, emerged from the back room through a beaded curtain, wearing a parka over his bright yellow shirt and scarlet tie. He pulled on a Russian style fur hat as he manoeuvred around the tables.

“Well, come on in and shut that door,” he urged. “What on earth’s brought you lot out in this winter wonderland?”

“It’s a long story,” said Greg.

“You’d have to be mad to believe it,” said Susie.

“Oh, I’m halfway there already,” said Desmond. “It would only take a nudge to put me over the brink.”

There was the sound of a muffled voice calling down from an upper room.

“What’s that, mother?” Desmond shouted back. “Yes, it’s customers! Three young folk and a body builder!”

“This is Sven,” said Lewis. “He’s visiting from Norway.”

“Brought the weather with him, hasn’t he,” Desmond commented. “I’ve been curled up under a quilt with a hot water bottle and a good book. Honestly, my blood’s too thin for this weather. I should have emigrated to Australia like my brother Colin, but I suppose somebody had to stay here and take care of mother.”

The muffled voice called out again.

“It’s the McBride boys and the Spinetti girl!” Desmond answered.

There was another unintelligible inquiry.

“No, the younger one! The older one’s away in America! And the other chap’s a Norwegian!” He cast a wary eye over Mjolnir. “What’s he carrying that hammer around for? Weight training?”

“He’s, um, a bit of a DIY nut,” said Greg. “You never know when he’ll want to bash in a few nails.”

“I’ve a cupboard door round the back that’s coming off its hinges,” Desmond told Thor. “Maybe you could take a look at it before you go.” He blew on his hands. “Come on, sit down at this table by the heater. Even with it full on, it’s a bit parky. Still, a fresh pot of tea will warm you up no end.”

“We’re glad to find a place that’s open, Desmond,” said Susie.

“Oh I expect that ghastly coffee chain will have their slaves
shackled to the espresso machines on the off chance somebody staggers in from the cold,” said Desmond with a grimace. “But you don’t want to drink that stuff. It goes right through you, so it does. A pot of best Darjeeling is what you want.”

When Desmond went off to brew the tea Greg muttered, “Could we not get a coke or something?”

“Desmond only serves tea,” said Susie. “He’s got about fifty different kinds.”

“I don’t care what we drink, as long as it’s hot,” said Lewis, rubbing his hands together to warm them.

Thor took out the golden ring and turned it over in his fingers.

“What did you say the ring was called again?” asked Lewis.

“Don’t you know?” said Greg. “You knew all about the Beef Roast.”


Bifrost
,” said Lewis.

“It is called Draupnir,” said Thor.

“And what does it do?” asked Susie. “Turn you invisible?”

“Maybe it shoots lightning,” Greg suggested. “That would come in handy.”

“It is a ring of knowledge,” said Thor.

“Can it tell us where Loki’s going to turn up next?” asked Lewis.

Thor frowned. “It’s not that kind of knowledge.”

“How do you mean?” said Lewis.

“Try it for yourself,” said Thor, handing him the ring.

Lewis examined it. It was made of gold and there were Nordic runes inscribed on the inside. He slipped it on. “I don’t get it. Nothing’s happening.”

“Well, what can you tell us now about the ring?” Thor prompted him.

“Not much,” said Lewis. “It was forged by the dwarven brothers Brokkr and Eitri as part of a set of three gifts that also included Mjolnir and Gullibursti, the Golden Boar.” He was surprised to find the words tripping from his lips of their own accord. “It was because of a bet that they couldn’t fashion better gifts than the Sons of Ivaldi who…”

“Fine!” Greg interrupted. “A ring that tells you all about itself. That’s really going to save the day!”

“Oh there is more to it than that,” said Thor. “Tell us about this place, Lewis.”

“This place? It’s been the Beacon Tea Room for thirty-seven years, since Mr and Mrs Soutar moved in, though at first it was called Soutar’s Café, but after her husband died Desmond’s mum changed the name.” All these facts were buzzing in Lewis’ brain like a swarm of bees. He could hardly talk fast enough to keep up with them. “Before that it was a corner shop selling groceries and newspapers run by two sisters named Agnes and Blodwyn Fludd. When they bought it, it was a private house belonging to a leather merchant named McPherson who was moving to Glasgow to open a boot factory. His father—”

“Enough, Lewis,” Greg cut in. “If you talk any faster your tongue will catch fire.”

Thor reached over and plucked the ring from Lewis’ finger. “You see, it lets you know everything about where you are right now.”

“It taps into a local datastream,” said Susie.

“Spinny, that doesn’t actually mean anything,” said Greg.

“Here, Lewis, you hang on to it,” said Thor handing the ring back. “It will help you if we get separated.”

Lewis slipped the ring into his pocket and rubbed his brow. “It’s given me a really sore head,” he said.

“I’ve got the cure for that,” said Desmond setting a tray down in front of them. “There’s nothing clears the head like a cup of good strong tea.”

He set out the teapot, milk, sugar and four sets of cups and saucers.

“Not very busy today, are you?” said Susie, glancing at the empty tables.

“There’s a few folk have struggled in, but not many. And here’s mother been baking shortbread all morning. There’s barrowloads of it, so I can’t let you go until you’ve scoffed down three squares each.”

He fetched a plate piled high with shortbread from the counter and set it down in front of his customers.

There was another muffled cry from upstairs.

“Yes, mother,” Desmond called back, “I’ve given them some shortbread!” He poured tea into each of the cups. “She gives me no peace, you know. I have to tell her everything that’s going on. I should get a job commentating on the radio, parades, royal weddings, the state opening of Parliament. I’d be good at that. Not so much at sports though. I can never spot where the ball is.”

“How much do we owe you?” asked Susie, reaching into her pocket.

Desmond waved the offer aside. “There’s no charge. On a day like today we’re like a first aid post – like in one of those old war films.”

He disappeared through the bead curtains and they heard classical music coming from his CD player. Thor and Susie helped themselves to the lion’s share of the shortbread while Greg made a grab at what was left. Lewis wrapped his hands around his cup and gratefully gulped down the hot tea.

When Desmond returned he was immediately drawn to the window where he stood staring at the sky. “Hark at this, will you! I’ve never seen the like of it.”

Everyone got up and joined him in looking upward. Far across town the snow was forming a strange, curling pattern in the air.

“It looks like skywriting,” said Desmond. “But it can’t be, can it? There’s no planes flying about in this.”

“It looks like two snakes trying to bite each other’s tails,” said Lewis.

Thor rubbed his beard and his brow furrowed.

There was another call from upstairs.

“I need to go up and fetch her medicine,” said Desmond. “You’ll be all right, will you?”

“Yes, thanks,” said Susie. “The tea was great.”

“Of course it was,” said Desmond. “Miles better than that Colombian sludge they serve in the coffee place down the road. That stuff gives you the runs.”

He disappeared upstairs while Susie and the boys continued to stare at the snow shapes in the sky.

“It’s definitely some kind of pattern,” said Susie, “like those crop circles you hear about.”

“What do you make of it, Sven?” asked Greg.

“The sign of the twin serpents,” said Thor. “It is the symbol
of Loki.”

“Loki?” said Greg. “So it’s kind of like Batman’s bat signal then.”

“It looks like it’s hovering somewhere around Langlands Road,” Lewis observed.

“Are you saying Loki is there under that sign, Sven?” asked Greg.

“I think so,” Thor replied.

“Why would he tell us where he is?” Susie wondered. “I thought he didn’t want us sticking our noses into his business.”

“Maybe he wants his ring back,” Greg suggested.

“It is funny, though,” said Lewis, “he didn’t seem that bothered about losing it.”

“Not bothered?” said Greg. “Lewis, he tried to bury us alive under a mountain of snow. I’d say he was a bit bothered.”

“It must be a challenge,” said Thor grimly. “A challenge to combat.”

“Or a trap,” said Greg. “That would be more his style.”

“Either way,” said Thor, “we must confront him.”

As they headed out the door Desmond reappeared. “I thought you were going to fix my cupboard,” he called after Thor.

“We’ve got something else we need to fix first,” said Greg, closing the door behind them.

BOOK: Thor Is Locked in My Garage!
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