The Hammer - Cor Series Book I

Corvan pushed up the window screen and slipped over his windowsill onto the porch roof. Tiptoeing to one side, he grabbed the overhanging branch of the maple tree and was on the ground in seconds. Crouching low, he cut wide around the back porch and through the trees. The light in the porch went out and plunged the backyard into darkness. Glancing back through the kitchen window, he saw his mother turn toward her room.

Running full tilt past the outhouse path, he leapt onto the rock and stumbled as the stone beneath his feet shuddered and knocked him to his knees. Before he could get to his feet, an abrupt scream pierced the night air.

Corvan scrambled to the top and was bolting into the circle just as the two stone slabs crashed together. Splinters of shattered rock exploded into the air and rained around him as he fell to his knees and pounded on the stone. “Kate. It’s me, Corvan. Open the door!” He shouted at the ground.

He hammered on the stone slab with a loose stone, but the only answer was faint echoes from below. He reached for a larger rock and bashed on the door until it fell from his scraped and bleeding hands.

Sitting back, he noticed a piece of cloth caught in the top corner where the slabs met. Corvan tugged, and it came loose, neatly snipped off. It was the edge of Kate’s flannel blanket.

Kate was gone. And without the hammer to open the doors, there was no way he could get her back. He sank to his knees. Tears of frustration shrouded the cloth in his hand.

The clouds shifted. Moonlight poured into the circle of rocks to reveal footprints in the long piles of dirt pushed up by the opening doors. Some were from Kate’s borrowed runners; the rest were made by the lizard. Corvan traced the progression of the tracks. The lizard must have been hiding behind the large rock because he could see deeper prints where it had jumped out when the door opened. After that, the prints left in a hasty retreat toward the north side of the hill. That must mean the lizard was still out there, and it might know a different way to get inside. Slowly making his way to the bottom, Corvan searched the soil around the base of the rock until he located tracks heading toward the loose pile of dead tree limbs and firewood behind the outhouse.

A bank of clouds enveloped the moon, and the tracks vanished in the dark. Corvan looked up. There were only a few small breaks in the sky overhead. It was going to be a long, black night.

A singular patch of moonlight slipped toward the woodpile and moved over the jumbled logs. He caught his breath as the silhouette of the lizard appeared briefly at the very top of the pile.

Easing himself lower among the stalks of wheat, Corvan crouched onto the soft, warm soil. He needed a weapon to defend himself. The lizard was too quick and vicious.

He crawled through the wheat until he reached the outhouse path. As soon as he was hidden from the log pile, Corvan scurried up the path to the house. Creeping up and into his room, he left the light off and retrieved his slingshot and pouch of marbles from inside the chest. The Wham-O slingshot had been a tenth birthday present from his dad, and it was a beauty with a solid ash handle. As its name implied it made a great sound when it hit its mark. Corvan could hit the knot on the outhouse door from his bedroom window, but his mother was not as impressed when it turned out she was inside.

From his bedroom, Corvan studied the deep shadows of the back yard. If he stayed downwind and came in from the front side of the outhouse, he should be able to catch the lizard unaware. If he pulled back on the slingshot only halfway, the marble should stun the creature long enough for him to capture it.

Using his maple tree escape route again, Corvan dropped to the ground and searched around the base of the tree for a forked stick. He needed one like those he used for catching snakes, but there was nothing large enough. He was making his way toward the cellar to find something there when he saw his mother’s garden scarecrow standing like a mute watchman with a broken pitchfork in its hand. That would work perfectly as it only had the two outer tines remaining.

After picking his way through the rows of plants, he pulled the pitchfork from the scarecrow’s hand. He jumped back nervously when its head flopped sideways. He was turning away when he noticed bare footprints in the soft soil hilled up around his mother’s potato plants. Kate had just been here, and she had taken the worn out sneakers that had been placed at the bottom of the scarecrow’s empty pant legs.

Leaving the footless scarecrow watching with its cockeyed stare, he crept across the yard and crouched down behind the outhouse. Overhead and to the west was a large open patch in the clouds; the moonlight would arrive any minute.

Moving deeper into the shelter of the trees, he tucked in close to the darkness around their weathered trunks. The plowed soil muffled his approach to his vantage point. Leaning into one of the outer spruce trees, Corvan pulled three marbles from the pouch. Two went into his mouth and one into the slingshot.

The moonlight swept towards him, lighting the prairie in a silver arc. Corvan focused on the woodpile and waited. As the light passed over the ragged pile, there was a flicker of movement before a familiar shape leaned out.

Corvan quickly pulled the leather pouch back to his elbow, felt the tension build in the rubber bands, then let the marble fly. It struck the lizard high on the side of its head, and the creature slumped forward. Its body was now draped over a log.

Busted pitchfork in hand, Corvan scrambled over the loose wood toward the reptile. It rolled over, and its eyes sprung wide with fear as the points of the pitchfork dropped past its face. Adrenaline surged through Corvan, and he pushed the two tines firmly around the lizard’s neck to pin it against the tree bark.

It gurgled and coughed as its eyes were begging for mercy, and he eased up on the handle to let it breathe. “Where’s Kate!?” Corvan demanded while choking on the marbles still in his mouth.

The lizard blinked and hissed out what seemed to be words.

Spitting the marbles away, Corvan leaned in closer to the reptile’s lean face. “Where’s my hammer? Does Kate have it?”

The lizard shook its head as much as the pitchfork tines would allow.

“Do you know where the hammer is?” Corvan asked, this time speaking slower, so it could understand him.

The lizard tried to talk and its healthy claw was pushing on the shaft of the pitchfork.

Corvan returned the creature’s gaze. Its dark eyes had lost the venomous anger of their previous encounter. It appeared more frightened than vicious.

Corvan eased up on the pressure. “Can you open the door, so I can find her?”

The lizard slowly nodded. Corvan tugged the points free of the wood and held the pitchfork ready at his side. What choice did he have but to trust it?

The lizard sat forward, rubbed its neck as it looked around the jumble of logs, and then slipped down to disappear into a gap between the chunks of wood.

Corvan groaned, dropped the pitchfork, and plopped down on the end of a thick log that jutted out from the pile. The lizard had tricked him, and now he might never find a way past the doors. He buried his face in his hands. His stomach churned at each thought of Kate trapped inside the rock.

At the sound of movement on the pile of logs behind him, Corvan turned to find the lizard struggling to pull something over a log. The creature gave a yank with its good claw, and a pink pencil case bumped down over the logs and fell into a pile of dead leaves at Corvan’s feet. The lizard followed it down and crouched. Its sides were heaving from exertion.

Picking up the soft case, Corvan realized he had seen this pencil case on Kate’s desk last year, but only for a day. She had told him her father had sent it to her in the mail. At lunch, two boys grabbed it and tossed it back and forth over her head until she had given one a bloody nose. She had never brought it back to school.

At his feet, the lizard’s head was bobbing as it gestured with its good claw towards the case. Corvan tugged the zipper open and stared inside. Nestled inside the pink vinyl was the missing hammer. When he touched it, the insignia glowed brightly and turned the entire case a pastel purple. As he lifted it out, the handle grew warm, and a sense of calm flowed through him.

“She was going to take the hammer to the master of the black band,” the lizard stated. “That would not have been good.”

Corvan stared at the creature.

“When you possess the hammer,” the lizard said, “you are able to understand my speaking. That is why I could warn your counterpart about the black band. But she did not listen to me and has willingly accepted the rule of the master.”

“Her name is Kate. What master are you talking about? Did she see someone down below?”

“Not yet, but she will in time. It is the command of the band that compels her to seek him,” the lizard said.

“The band?”

“The black collar that was around my neck. I begged her not to touch it, but she wanted it for herself. I saw that she was wearing it when she went through the doors. She is now under its command. That is why she put the hammer in the pink case. When I had the band on, I could not touch the hammer.”

“Can’t she take the band off?

The lizard solemnly shook its head. “She has accepted the band of her own free will. Now it will call her to him, to serve him.”

Corvan’s mind whirled. “Can I use the hammer to set her free?” He gripped the handle tightly.

The lizard thought for a moment. “Only if she desires to be set free, and only if we find her before she gets back to him. Once he sees her, he will not allow her to go free lest she destroy all his plans.”

The lizard’s words were confusing and frightening. “Then I’ve got to go after her.” Corvan jumped to his feet and scrambled down off the pile onto the soft dirt. As he ran toward the rock, the lizard caught up to him on its swift hind legs and ran alongside like a well-trained dog.

“She will be inside the labyrinth by now, and you will not be able to follow without a guide.”

Corvan slackened his pace, and then he stopped at the base of the rock. “What are you talking about?”

The lizard stopped too. “Below the door is an intricate maze. Only those who are called from within can find their way through. The band on the girl will guide her, but you will most certainly be lost.”

“Will you guide me?”

The lizard firmly shook its head. “I no longer have the band, so I cannot make my way through the labyrinth. We would be lost together and trapped inside until we perished.”

Corvan held out the hammer. “What about this? Can it guide me through?”

The lizard stepped back. “Perhaps … if you have been trained in its use? Have you studied the writings?”

“I don’t know anything about writings,” Corvan said, “unless you mean my grandfather’s book. It’s metal, and the hammer unlocks it.”

The dark eyes of the lizard widened as it drew in a hissing breath. “Have you discovered what it says?”

The urgency in the lizard’s voice caught Corvan off guard. Maybe all this was just a trick to get the book. His grandfather had said not to trust the dark eyes. Was he referring to this lizard?

“Put your hand on the hammer,” Corvan said. His gaze fixed intently on the lizard.

“My hand?” the lizard asked.

“I mean your paw. Place it on the hammer.”

The lizards stepped away. “Oh no, I cannot touch it. I tried once when I wanted to take it to him, but it hurt me badly. I had to wrap cloth around my paws.”

“But that was before Kate released you from the black band,” Corvan said.

The lizard nodded as its good paw caressed the welts around its neck.

“I don’t think the hammer will hurt you now unless you are not telling the truth. It seems to know when you’re lying.” Corvan extended the hammer.

The creature shrank back. “I fear it will hurt me again.”

“I need to know if I can trust you. You need to decide if you’re willing to trust me.”

The lizard closed its eyes and edged its paw toward the head of the hammer. There was a moment of silence as it made contact, then a long sigh. “It is not angry with me now.”

“Try the other paw, the injured one,” Corvan suggested with sudden inspiration.

The lizard attempted to lift its bloody paw and let out a low, painful hiss. Crouching lower, Corvan touched the hammer to the damaged paw. A look of astonishment crossed the lizard’s face.

“Does it feel better?”

“Oh, yes. Look, I can lift it now, and the pain is almost gone. Oh, thank you, sir, thank you.”

Watching the creature bobbing and bowing before him reminded Corvan of the old man who used to be the caretaker at the mine. “Don’t thank me; it was the hammer. If you lie, it hurts you, but when you tell the truth, it heals you. I don’t know how it knows, but it does.” He pointed the handle at the lizard. “So be sure you always tell me the truth.”

The lizard nodded vigorously. “I will, sir. But we must hurry if we hope to get through the door before daylight.”

Corvan looked to the eastern sky. “Is there anything else I should bring? Will I need a flashlight?”

The lizard squinted at him. “I do not know the word flashlight.”

“You touch a switch and light comes out.”

The lizard’s face wrinkled in thought.

“Kate had one at the rock.”

The lizard nodded eagerly. “Oh, yes, the short fire stick. No need. I have much larger ones in the entry.”

Corvan wanted more information, but time was passing quickly. “Is there anything else I should get?”

“Whatever you think you will need for a long journey,” it replied with a shrug.

“A long journey?” Corvan’s heart dropped. “How long will it take?”

“Many of your days, sir.”

“Days? How far down does your cave go?”

“It will take days just to get through the labyrinth, after which there is another long descent before we will arrive in the Cor.”

Corvan’s mind reeled. How could he go into this maze of tunnels unprepared? He needed more time, but there was no time. He would have to just step through the doors and see what happened, despite how crazy it seemed. But then, who am I to say what’s crazy when I’m having a conversation with a lizard?

“Looking on the bright side,” he said with a wry smile, “it will mean missing a few days of school.”

“Oh, no, sir. I’m afraid you do not understand. The cycles of your moon affect the passages.” It scanned the predawn skies. “Once we have passed through the labyrinth, the opportunity to return to this sphere will not come again for at least one of your months.”

“I can’t be gone for a month,” Corvan exclaimed. “My dad is away, and my mother needs me here to help her.”

The lizard looked up at Castle Rock. “The first passage into the labyrinth will be sealed at sunrise. If you do not wish to go, that is your choice. We can wait.”

The inside of Corvan’s mouth felt like sandpaper. “But what will happen to Kate?”

“Once she meets the master, she will never return.”