Thor Is Locked in My Garage! (11 page)

And the snow kept on falling.

“What’s that?” Susie croaked suddenly.

Lewis realised his eyes had drooped shut and he had to rub the ice from his lashes before he could open them. The air all around was a blur of white. He tried to say ‘where?’ but it came out as ‘ungh’.

“Have my eyes gone screwy,” he heard Garth Makepeace murmur, “or are those lights coming our way?”

A torch flared out of the gloom and Greg appeared behind it, trotting along in the Shoes of Vidar. Racing up to them, he wheeled in his tracks and jumped up and down, waving. “Here they are!”

Dad and Mr Spinetti appeared through the curtain of snow, dragging a sledge behind them. They were dressed in arctic gear with thermal gloves and goggles.

“Come on,” said Dad, pulling Lewis to his feet, “you need to get moving before you freeze solid.”

Greg and Mr Spinetti hauled Susie and Makepeace to their feet, then cleared the snow from Thor, who had almost disappeared under a blanket of white. Dad passed around a flask of hot minestrone soup. After a couple of gulps Lewis felt a welcome glow inside.

“Yum! My favourite!” said Susie, with a lively gleam returning to her eye.

Mr Spinetti propped up Thor’s head and forced some brandy
between his lips. “There you go, get that down you.”

As he swallowed, Thor’s eyes flickered open and he gazed around him groggily. “For a moment,” he groaned, “I thought the Valkyries had come to take my soul to Valhalla.”

“It’s not come to that yet,” said Dad.

Mr Spinetti passed out heated thermal packs, which they tucked inside their coats. Their warmth brought an immediate relief. Between the thermal packs and the soup, Lewis felt like he was coming out of a coma.

“I don’t know about you, Lewis,” said Greg, flapping his arms, “but I don’t think I’m going to build another snowman as long as I live.”

“This blizzard’s getting worse,” said Mr Spinetti, “so we need to be on our way. Come on!”

With Dad’s help, he picked Thor up and laid him gently on the sledge. Once Thor was securely wrapped in warm blankets, they set off up the road, hauling the sledge behind them.

“I wish that chap who’s always dreaming of a white Christmas was here now,” said Dad. “I bet this would change his mind.”

“Al, this isn’t some trick of yours to make me stick around for your golf tournament, is it?” Makepeace joked.

“If it doesn’t work, we can always get Johnny Depp instead,” said Dad.

Makepeace wagged a finger at him. “Never settle for second best, Al, never settle for second best.”

When at last they came in sight of the Christmas lights decorating the Spinetti house, Lewis had never been so glad to see anything in his life. Once they were inside, Dad and Mr Spinetti took Thor to one of the bedrooms where they got him into warm, dry pyjamas and put him under an electric blanket.
Lewis and Greg’s mum was a nurse, so she cleaned and bandaged the cut on his head and gave him some painkillers.

Once she was done, she joined the rest of the company in the front room where Garth Makepeace was being introduced to everyone as he warmed himself by the gas fire. Susie’s brothers Michael and Charlie were running around the room making noises like fighter planes.

“Do you mind telling us what you’ve been up to out there?” asked Mr McBride, tapping his empty pipe against his lower lip. “You look like you’ve been through the wars.”

“It’s a bit of a long story,” Lewis mumbled, knowing how impossible it would all sound.

“It’s top secret actually,” said Greg. “You know, like in a spy film.”

“It’s like a movie, all right,” Makepeace agreed.

“We really need Sven here to explain it properly,” said Susie.

“Well, I suppose it can wait till he’s rested up a bit,” said Mrs McBride.

Charlie dived between Makepeace’s legs and rolled across the carpet, making machine gun noises.

“I think they’ve seen my movie
Ace of Wings
one too many times,” said the actor with a twinkle in his eye.

“I was just watching one of your films last week,” said Mum, “the romantic one where you’re chasing after that girl in Geneva.”

“
Swiss Kiss
,” said Makepeace. “Yeah, that’s one of my favourites. Did you know we spent three days filming that scene where we dance in the fountain?”

“I remember watching you years ago in that teenage TV show
Atlantis High Adventures
,” said Mrs Spinetti.

“Whoa there, Theresa!” said Makepeace. “Don’t start dragging
out my baby pictures.”

“Now don’t ruin your appetite,” said Mum, noticing how they were all guzzling digestive biscuits and custard creams. “Theresa and I have whipped up a big dinner for everybody.”

“It’s not turkey and Christmas pudding, is it?” laughed Susie.

“We couldn’t quite manage that,” said her mother, “but I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.”

Once the table was laid they all sat down while Mr and Mrs Spinetti ferried dishes of spaghetti and meatballs out of the kitchen, all of it in a delicious-smelling sauce.

Thor limped in, leaning on a crutch made from an old mop handle. Every move he made appeared to hurt him, much as he tried to hide it, but he refused all offers of help.

“The smell of that food is all I need to get me to the table,” he joked.

Mrs Spinetti said a blessing over the meal, then everybody tucked in. Soon their plates were piled high with spaghetti and meatballs and garlic bread. Thor and Garth Makepeace joined Dad and Mr Spinetti in having a glass of home brew.

“Say, you should go into business with this stuff, George,” said Makepeace, smacking his lips. “It really hits the spot.”

“It is worthy to be drunk in Valhalla,” Thor agreed, draining his glass.

“Easy there, Sven,” Dad cautioned him. “It can go straight to your head. Especially on top of those painkillers.”

“Don’t worry about me,” said Thor, giving him a wink. “I grew up drinking mead that would flatten a troll.”

Mr Spinetti laid his fork aside and eyed the youngsters. “Now that we’re all here, do you not think it’s about time you told us what you’ve been up to all day?”

Lewis cleared his throat nervously. “Well, it’s kind of complicated.”

“That’s right,” said Susie. “It’s hard to know where to begin.”

“Stolen antiquities,” Greg declared loudly.

Dad stared at him. “Antiquities?”

“The guy who calls himself Larry O’Keefe is really an international art thief.” Greg was chewing on a meatball and swallowed it before carrying on. “He stole a lot of valuable antiquities from the National Museum of Scandivaria.”

Lewis groaned inwardly. He wished there was some way he could stop Greg concocting another ludicrous story, but interrupting him would only make things worse.

“Scandivaria?” said Mrs Spinetti. “Where is that exactly?”

“It’s one of those Norwegian countries, you know,” said Greg.

Lewis was horrified to see Susie nodding. “That’s right, Mum.”

“So, anyway, this Larry character steals these treasures and hides them in St Andrews,” Greg continued relentlessly.

“You mean like the hammer Sven found in our garage?” said Dad.

“Correct!” said Greg, stabbing a finger in the air. “You see Sven is one of the SAPS.”

“Saps?” said Mr Spinetti.

“The Scandivarian Antiquities Protection Squad. He’s been sent to get the treasures back. Haven’t you, Sven?”

Thor was busy shovelling spaghetti into his mouth but he nodded in confirmation.

“I don’t quite see what any of this has to do with Garth,” said Mum.

“I’m, uh, hanging out with Sven as research for my next film,
Treasures of the Hidden Kingdom
,” said Makepeace, flashing a charming smile. “Now, we’re strangers in this area, so the kids were helping us find our way around.”

“Isn’t it a bit dangerous, chasing after international criminals?” asked Mr Spinetti with a frown.

Makepeace laughed. “That Larry is a cream puff,” he said. “He couldn’t hurt a fly if it was tied up and blindfolded.”

“So what happened to Sven?” asked Mrs Spinetti. “He looks like a bus fell on him.”

“I slipped on the ice,” said Thor, pouring himself another glass of home brew. He pushed away his empty plate and smacked his lips. “Is there any dessert?”

There was trifle, with cream and custard. Lots of it. By the time they were done, Lewis was so stuffed he could hardly move. Loki and his evil plans seemed a million miles away from this feast.

Once the table was cleared, even Susie looked exhausted.

“We’ve put out camp beds and sleeping bags, so everybody should have a good night’s sleep,” said Mrs Spinetti.

“Don’t worry about that,” Greg yawned. “I feel like I could sleep for a week.”

The brothers had been set up in the music room. They unpacked the bags they had brought from home earlier and got into their pyjamas.

“It doesn’t feel right, going to sleep while Loki’s out there with the Yggdrasil Seed,” said Lewis, zipping himself into his sleeping bag.

“Relax,” yawned Greg, thumping his head down on his pillow. “Nothing’s going to grow in this weather, not even a magic tree.”

“I suppose you’re right,” said Lewis. And in spite of his
worrying, he was asleep as soon as he closed his eyes.

He awoke with a start to find Susie was shaking them both out of their sleep.

“Wake up, you guys! Come and see what’s happened!”

“Now what?” moaned Greg, rubbing his eyes.

“It’s springtime!” Susie announced. “The sun’s out and the snow’s melting.”

Lewis tried to leap out of bed but got tangled in his sleeping bag and rolled on to the floor with a thud. When he made it to the window he saw it was true. There was a brilliant summer sun in the sky and there were only a few traces of snow left on the hedges and trees.

“The trouble is,” said Greg, “this could be bad news.”

“Right,” Lewis agreed. “If Loki’s switched off the winter, he must have a good reason.”

“You don’t suppose he’s flown back to his own planet, do you?” Susie suggested hopefully.

“Don’t you remember, Sven told us he wants to get back to Asgard,” said Lewis, “the home of the gods.”

“Oh, yes, like that’s not an alien planet or anything,” Susie retorted with heavy sarcasm.

“Let’s go talk to Sven,” Greg suggested.

Thor was bedded down in the room that used to belong to Susie’s older brother Frankie. He was propped up on his pillows flicking through one of the film magazines Frankie had left behind. “There’s a lot of pictures of that Makepeace in here,” he grunted. “You would think he was a big shot.”

“Sven, the snow’s all melted,” Susie reported.

“Loki must be up to something,” said Greg.

Thor laid the magazine aside and grimaced. “He will be
planting the seed to grow the new Yggdrasil.”

“Where?” asked Lewis.

Thor pondered for a few moments then said, “It will be on high ground, most likely a place of mystic power.”

“Mystic power?” echoed Greg. “That’s not something they put on a map.”

“How about Hallowhill?” Susie offered.

“That’s a good bet,” Lewis agreed. “The name Hallow means holy and there are Pictish graves up there.”

“That sounds pretty mystical to me,” said Greg. “How about it, Sven?”

Thor nodded grimly. “You should check it out.”

“You can see it from my bedroom window,” said Susie. “Come on!”

The boys followed her upstairs. The walls of her room were covered in posters of football and hockey players and the shelves behind her bed were packed with sporting trophies.

The three of them crowded round the window and stared over the rooftops towards Hallowhill. “Oh, isn’t that just great!” Greg exclaimed.

Hallowhill was swathed in a thick cloud of mist that rose like a huge smoky column high up into the clouds.

“I suppose that could be water vapour from the melting snow,” said Susie.

“It might be,” Greg agreed, “but I’ll bet you anything that Loki’s wrapped a mist around Hallowhill to hide what he’s up to.”

When they reported back to Thor, he agreed with their conclusion. “He is hiding the Yggdrasil from view while it grows.”

He tried to climb out of bed but his leg gave out under him and Greg and Lewis had to catch him. “It’s no good,” he groaned as the boys helped him settle back against his pillows. “You’ll have to go without me. But you must catch up with Loki and stop him.”

“Should we tell Mum and Dad?” asked Lewis.

“By the time we explain it all to them, Loki will be long gone,” said Greg. “No, it’s us or nobody.”

“What about Garth?” said Lewis. “Maybe he’ll want in on this.”

“I looked in on him,” said Susie. “He’s completely zonked out.”

“Too much of the home brew,” said Thor. “Best leave him to sleep it off.”

“We could still do with some help,” said Lewis anxiously.

“You have the two treasures,” Thor reminded him, “the Ring Draupnir and the Shoes of Vidar. Use them wisely and the victory will be yours.”

“It’s all right for them,” Susie complained. “What about me? I don’t have a treasure.”

“You shall have the greatest treasure of all,” said Thor. He leaned down to pick Mjolnir from the floor and offered it to her. “To replace the hockey stick you lost.”

Susie took the hammer and swung it from side to side in her hand.

“How is she doing that?” Greg exclaimed. “I couldn’t even lift it.”

“Mjolnir can only be wielded by me,” Thor explained, “or a person I entrust it to.”

Susie tossed the hammer into the air and caught it as easily as she would catch a tennis ball.

“Now, Susie, you are a warrior maid of Asgard,” Thor told her.

Susie grinned. “Cool!”

“We can’t waste a second,” Greg reminded them. “Let’s go!”

They dressed quickly and set out on the path leading to Hallowhill. Greg moved along briskly; the Shoes of Vidar made it hard not to break into a run. Susie had Mjolnir tucked into the straps of her backpack. Lewis fingered the ring in his pocket. It didn’t feel like much protection against whatever Loki was likely to throw at them.

When they arrived at the foot of hill, the quiet flow of the Kinnessburn below them had been transformed into a rushing torrent by the melted snow. The trees that dotted the lower levels of the slope were still flecked with white. Above and beyond them the great bank of mist completely enveloped the summit. They climbed up to the edge of the misty wall and stared up. It seemed to go on and on forever, right up to the sky.