Taylor Davis and the Flame of Findul (Taylor Davis, 1) by Michelle Isenhoff

Author:Michelle Isenhoff
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: action and adventure, young adult adventure, christian fantasy, teen fantasy, christian adventure, teen paranormal, middle grade fantasy, middle grade adventure
Publisher: Candle Star Press

Lesson #14

You Can’t Catch a Troll with a Squirrel Trap

The sound of traffic grew dim as Elena and I exchanged significant glances. It was Swain. It had to be!

“Do you have that tale in print?” Elena asked.

“Sure,” the man said. “I have a new shipment of that book behind the counter. Would you like a copy?”

“Yes, please.”

I chose a hanging coffee mug in metallic green and met Elena at the cash register. After paying for our souvenirs, we departed the store in search of Ranofur and Mozart.

“Can you believe our luck?” I asked. “What are the odds we’d stumble onto that legend?”

“Mike is going to want to read this,” Elena agreed, slapping the book against her palm.

He wasn’t hard to find. In fact, he was sitting cross-legged on the plaque, right in the middle of pedestrian traffic. Every thirty seconds or so he’d rotate ninety degrees. Ranofur waited near the fountains with his arms crossed.

“Mike!” I shouted, jogging over the crosswalk. “You won’t believe what we found! While you were out here doing, uh, whatever it is you’re doing, we tracked down the information you wanted. We found the story of Swain’s execution!”

That got his attention. He scrambled to his feet. “Where?”

“It’s all right here in this book.” Elena handed him her purchase.

Mike flipped it open and eagerly scanned the pages. Then his face grew irritated and he closed the book. “Ha, ha. Very funny. Joke’s on me.”

“There’s no joke,” I replied in confusion.

“You gave me a book with empty pages.”

Elena snatched it from his hands. “Let me see that.” She fanned the pages. There was nothing on them. “There must have been a mistake at the printer,” she reasoned. “The guy said this was a new shipment.”

“Wait! Go back!” I was looking around her shoulder. “I thought I saw something.”

Elena fingered back several pages. “There!” She found it and held it open.

The only phrase written in the entire book was “Courtesy of the Gray Admiral.”

My back went rigid. “Where was this store?” Mike asked in a strangled voice.

We both turned and pointed, but the Hangman’s Noose was gone. In its place stood an empty storefront.

Mike spun in a tight circle, every muscle tensed. “Ranofur!” he shouted. The big angel was beside us in an instant. “We’re going to need that ride you arranged. Now!”

“Too late,” Elena shouted. “Look!”

Striding from the empty storefront and stopping traffic was the most hideous beast I’d ever seen. Twelve feet tall, obese, and wearing a white undershirt several sizes too small, the creature looked fresh from some mountain troll trailer park. Hair sprouted from the neck of its shirt and hung in limp tangles from an oversized head. Fleshy rolls jiggled at every ground-shaking step, and in its hand it dragged a spiked club.

“Your weapons!” Ranofur shouted.

We were way ahead of him. Before the giant crossed the road, Elena had three bolts in its hide. They didn’t even slow it down.

It roared, raised its club, and slammed it into the center of the traffic island.

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