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

“Honey,” said Sif, “we’ve talked about this.”

“Indeed,” said Odin, his ravens squawking on the high back of his throne. “My noble son Thor, we’ve been over this approximately eight thousand six hundred and thirty times. I’m not sure you’re using strategies for active listening. We cannot change our foretold destinies.”

Thor huffed. “Well, what’s the use of being a god, then? I’ve got a perfectly good hammer and this nut is just begging to be cracked! Why not CRACK it?”

That sounded like a pretty reasonable plan to me, but I didn’t say so. I was not in the habit of disagreeing with Odin the All-Father, who controlled my afterlife and my minibar privileges at the Hotel Valhalla.

“Maybe…” I said, self-conscious as all eyes turned toward me. “I dunno….We could come up with a more secure place to keep him, at least? Like—I’m just thinking aloud here—a maximum-security prison with actual guards? And chains that aren’t made from the intestines of his sons? Or, you know, we could just avoid the intestine thing altogether….”

Odin chuckled, like I was a puppy that had learned a new trick. “Magnus Chase, you and your friends have acted bravely and nobly. Now you must leave matters to the gods. We cannot change Loki’s punishment in any meaningful way. We can only restore it to what it was, so that the great sequence of events leading to Ragnarok will be held in check. At least for now.”

“Hmph.” Thor quaffed his mead. “We keep delaying Ragnarok. Why not just get it over with? I could use a good fight!”

“Well, my son,” said Frigg, “we are delaying Ragnarok because it will destroy the cosmos as we know it, and because most of us will die. You included.”

“Besides,” Heimdall added, “we just now got the ability to take quality selfies on our cell phones. Can you imagine how much better the tech will be in a few more centuries? I can’t wait to VR-stream the apocalypse to my millions of followers on the cyber-cloud!”

With a pensive expression, Tyr pointed to a nearby copse of golden trees. “I will die right over there…killed by Garm, the guard dog of Hel, but not before I smite his head in. I can’t wait for that day. I dream of Garm’s fangs ripping into my stomach.”

Thor nodded sympathetically, like Yes, good times!

I scanned the horizon. I, too, was destined to die here at Ragnarok, assuming I didn’t get killed in some dangerous quest before then. I didn’t know the exact location, but we might be having lunch in the very spot where I would be impaled, or Halfborn would fall with a sword in his gut, or Alex…I couldn’t think about it. Suddenly I wanted to be anywhere but here.

Samirah coughed for attention. “Lord Odin,” she said, “what are your plans for Loki, then, since his original bonds were cut?”

Odin smiled. “Not to worry, my brave Valkyrie. Loki will be returned to the cave of punishment. We will put new enchantments upon the place to hide its location and prevent further breaches. We will reforge his bonds, making sure they are stronger than ever. The best dwarven smiths have agreed to undertake this task.”

“The best dwarven smiths?” Blitz asked.

Heimdall nodded enthusiastically. “We got a package deal on all four bindings from Eitri Junior!”

Blitz started to curse, but Hearthstone clamped a hand over his friend’s mouth. I thought for sure Blitzen would get up and start throwing expand-o-ducks in a fit of rage.

“I see…” said Samirah, clearly not excited about Odin’s plan.

“What about Sigyn?” I asked. “Will you let her stay by Loki’s side again, if she wants?”

Odin frowned. “I had not considered this.”

“It wouldn’t do any harm,” I said quickly. “She…she means well, I think. I’m pretty sure she didn’t want him to escape in the first place.”

The gods muttered among themselves.

Alex gave me a questioning look, no doubt wondering why I cared so much about the wife of Loki. I wasn’t sure myself why I felt it was important. If Sigyn wanted to be by Loki’s side, whether it was for compassion or some other reason, I figured it was the least the gods could do for her. Especially considering they’d murdered her kids and used the guts as chains for their dad.

I remembered what Loki had told me about good and evil, gods and giants. He had a point. I wasn’t necessarily sitting with the good guys. I was just sitting with one side of the final war.

“Very well,” Odin decided. “Sigyn may stay with Loki if she wishes. Any other questions about Loki’s punishment?”

I could tell that a lot of my friends wanted to stand up and say Yes. ARE YOU CRAZY?

But no one did. None of the gods raised objections or pulled out weapons.

“I must say,” Freya noted, “this is the best godly meeting we’ve had in centuries.” She smiled at me. “We try to avoid having too many of us together in one place. It usually leads to trouble.”

“The last time was the flyting with Loki,” Thor grumbled. “In Aegir’s hall.”

I didn’t like being reminded of Aegir, but it made me remember a promise. “Lord Odin, I—I was supposed to bring Aegir a sample of Kvasir’s Mead, as payment for him sort of not killing us and sort of letting us go, but—”

“Never fear, Magnus Chase. I will speak with Aegir on your behalf. I may even grant him a small sample of Kvasir’s Mead from my special reserve supply, assuming he’ll put me on the list for his Pumpkin Spice.”

“And me,” Thor said.

“And me,” said the other gods, raising their hands.

I blinked. “You…have a special reserve supply of Kvasir’s Mead?”

“Of course!” said Odin.

This raised some interesting questions, such as why had the gods made us run all around creation risking our lives to get that mead from the giants when Odin could have just handed me some? That simple solution probably hadn’t even occurred to Odin. He was a leader, not a sharer.

My father caught my eye. He shook his head like Don’t ask. Aesir are weird.

“Well, then!” Odin pounded his fist on the table. “I agree with Freya. This meeting has gone surprisingly well. We will take the walnut. We will send you heroes back to Valhalla to enjoy a great feast in your honor. Any other business before we adjourn?”

“Lord Odin,” Frey said. “My son and his friends have done us a great service. Shouldn’t we…reward them? Isn’t that customary?”

“Hmm.” Odin nodded. “I suppose you’re right. I could make them all einherjar in Valhalla! But, ah, most of them already are.”

“And the rest of us,” Sam added quickly, “would like to stay alive a little longer, Lord Odin, if you don’t mind.”

“Well, there you are!” Odin said. “As a reward, our living heroes will get to stay alive! I’ll also give you each five autographed copies of my new book, Motivational Heroism. As for the einherjar, in addition to the celebratory feast and the books, I’ll throw in a complimentary Hotel Valhalla Turkish bathrobe for each of you! Eh?”

Odin seemed so pleased with himself, none of us had the heart to complain. We just nodded and smiled halfheartedly.