The Sword of Summer (Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard, #1)

by Rick Riordan

But before I could take action, something whizzed past my ear and smacked Surt in the forehead. Had it been a real arrow, Surt would’ve been in trouble. Fortunately for him, it was a plastic toy projectile with a pink heart for a point—a Valentine’s Day novelty, I guessed. It hit Surt between the eyes with a cheerful squeak, fell to his feet, and promptly melted. Surt blinked. He looked as confused as I was. Behind me a familiar voice shouted, “Run, kid!” Charging up the bridge came my buddies Blitz and Hearth. Well…I say charging. That implies it was impressive. It really wasn’t. For some reason, Blitz had donned a broad-brimmed hat and sunglasses along with his black trench coat, so he looked like a grungy, very short Italian priest. In his gloved hands he wielded a fearsome wooden dowel with a bright yellow traffic sign that read: MAKE WAY FOR DUCKLINGS. Hearth’s red-striped scarf trailed behind him like limp wings. He nocked another arrow in his pink plastic Cupid’s bow and fired at Surt. Bless their demented little hearts, I understood where they’d gotten the ridiculous weapons: the toy store on Charles Street.