The Hammer of Thor (Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard, #2)

by Rick Riordan

Apparently North America was lousy with ancient gods. We had a full-blown infestation.

When I need his help, he turns into a sword and kills things. Sometimes he does this while I wield him. Other times he does this while flying around on his own and singing annoying pop songs. He is magical that way.

Most activities in Valhalla were done to the death: Scrabble, whitewater rafting, pancake eating, croquet. (Tip: Don’t ever play Viking croquet.)

“Exactly, Mr. Elf! It will be a glorious bloodbath!”

“Talk later,” I said. “Pee now.” “Yep,” the girls said in unison.

The second course was burgers. That really wasn’t fair.

MY NAME IS APOLLO. I used to be a god.

And now, heavens help me, I was one of you—just another meat sack.