Who Let the Gods Out? Book 2: Simply the Quest

The scream tore through the dawn like a razor blade through toilet paper. Elliot Hooper was the first to respond – if you can call burbling ‘whargihghplfm?’ a response.
Before he entirely knew where he was – or even who he was – another scream shattered the February morning.
Elliot sat up in bed and scratched his head. He caught his reflection in the bedroom mirror. His blond mop of hair was wayward at the best of times, but at this hour, the twelve-year-old sleepyhead thought he resembled a slightly used toilet brush. His fuzzy brain told him that it was early, although he had only just put Mum back to bed for the umpteenth time. It had been another bad night. Nowadays, they nearly always were.