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The guy was like a ninja. A homeless vampire ninja.
I didn’t need some fairy god-stalker looking after me.
“You missed a pedestrian,” I said. “You want to go back and hit her?”
Randolph gave me a sort of a pitying look. “Myths are simply stories about truths we’ve forgotten.”
My brain just kind of expanded to accommodate the weirdness.
“Cool down, man. I have a corroded piece of metal and I’m not afraid to use it.”
Bless their demented little hearts,
I turned to face him. “You’re starting to aggravate me. I have to kill you now.”
Gee, Magnus, what did it feel like? It hurt. A lot. Thanks for asking.
As far as I could tell, all the servers were buff female warriors with shields on their backs and swords or axes on their belts, which is not something you see a lot in the service industry.
Stupid magical hotel wouldn’t even allow me to properly vandalize things.
I didn’t want to be an extreme case. I wanted to be an easy case: Hey, good job. You’re a hero. Have a cookie.
Great. My dad was a D-list god who frolicked in the woods. He was probably eliminated early last season on Dancing with the Asgardians.
Also, why would I get targeted by a big bad dude like Surt? If he was the lord of Muspellheim, High King Roasty Toasty, shouldn’t he pick on more interesting heroes, like the children of Thor? At least their dad had a movie franchise. Frey didn’t even have his own cats. He had to borrow his sister’s.
I’d seen enough wolves to last me an eternal lifetime. I wanted to be the harbinger of ice cream, or falafel.
Wrongly chosen, wrongly slain. A little late to announce that now. I was a freaking einherji. My name was on the door. I had a key to the minibar.
I didn’t know why he’d want to invite me to breakfast. I also didn’t understand why I needed weapons and armor. Maybe Viking bagels fought back.
Halfborn leaned toward me. “Don’t mind Mallory. She’s a sweetheart, once you get past the fact that she’s a horrible person.”
I TOLD MY NEW FRIENDS I was allergic to dismemberment. They just laughed and herded me toward the combat arena. This is why I don’t like making new friends.
Easy for him to say. He was larger than some sovereign nations.
Mallory cursed in what was maybe Gaelic. Our little hallway group was a veritable United Nations of Cussing.
I stared at her. “Why? You’ve known me less than a day.” “Long enough to know you’re an idiot,” she grumbled.
She tackled me in a hug. As I may have mentioned, I’m not a big fan of physical contact, but after all I’d been through, a hug from Annabeth was enough to make me crumble.
“Anyway”—I raised my palms—“can we call a truce and talk? We can always go back to killing each other later.”
“Exactly,” Blitz said. “And as for me, I have many skills, Valkyrie.” “For instance?” “For instance, I could fix your disgraceful outfit. No one wears a brown peacoat with a green headscarf.” “A dwarf in sunglasses and a ski mask is giving me fashion advice.” “I have daylight issues!”
