The Ship of the Dead (Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard, #3)

by Rick Riordan

Helgi gripped my shoulder. “Then good luck, Magnus Chase, son of Frey. And remember, you must stop Loki’s ship Naglfar from sailing at Midsummer—” “I know.” “—or Ragnarok begins.” “Right.” “Which means our renovations to the banquet hall won’t ever be complete, and we’ll never get high-speed Internet restored on floor two hundred forty-two.” I nodded grimly. I did not need the extra pressure of being responsible for an entire floor’s Internet connection.

“You’ll be in my prayers. All of you.” I knew he was sincere. Me, I was an atheist. I only prayed sarcastically to my own father for a better color of boat.

Rising from the maelstrom were the giant watery forms of women—nine in all, each as large as our ship, with dresses of foam and ice, and blue-green faces contorted with rage. I just had time to think: Percy didn’t cover this in basic seamanship.

I was the first to regain my wits. I hate it when that happens. “Hello,” I said to the giant. I’m diplomatic that way, always knowing the right greeting.

TYPICAL. SOMEBODY says fruity edge and immediately my name comes to mind.

T.J. wasn’t kidding. As we walked the narrow streets of York in a cold gray drizzle, he greeted everyone he saw and tried to shake hands. “Hello!” he said. “I’m from Boston. Thank you for not supporting the Confederacy!”

An act like that affects your wyrd.” I frowned. “You mean it affects you weirdly?” “No. Your wyrd.” “You’re weird,” I muttered.

Jack floated over, his blade shuddering and warbling like a hand saw. “Frigg? Oh, man, I don’t like Frigg. She’s too quiet. Too devious. Too—” “She’s my ma,” Mallory grumbled. “Oh, that Frigg!” Jack said. “Yeah, she’s great.” “I hate her,” Mallory said. “Gods, me too!” Jack commiserated.

She sheathed her knives and signed to me, I have the walnut. That would have made a great code phrase if we were spies talking about a nuclear weapon or something. Unfortunately, she just meant that she had the walnut.

Ehwaz, the rune of the steed, exploded with golden light. Suddenly, floating in the air above us, was our old friend Stanley the eight-legged horse. Stanley surveyed the chaos, whinnied as if to say Fight scene cameo? Okay.