by Rick Riordan
TANNGNJÓSTR AND TANNGRISNR—Thor’s goats, who pull his chariot and also supply him with daily sustenance; after being killed, cooked, and eaten, they can resurrect themselves eternally
THANE—a lord of Valhalla
THJAZI—a giant who kidnapped Idun
THOR—god of thunder; son of Odin. Thunderstorms are the earthly effects of Thor’s mighty chariot rides across the sky, and lightning is caused by hurling his great hammer, Mjolnir.
TREE OF LAERADR—a tree in the center of the Feast Hall of the Slain in Valhalla containing immortal animals that have particular jobs
TYR—god of courage, law, and trial by combat; he lost a hand to Fenris’s bite when the Wolf was restrained by the gods
ULLER—the god of snowshoes and archery
UTGARD-LOKI—the most powerful sorcerer of Jotunheim; king of the mountain giants
VALHALLA—paradise for warriors in the service of Odin
VALI—Loki’s son, who was turned into a wolf after Loki killed Balder; as a wolf he disemboweled his brother Narvi before he was gutted himself
VALKYRIE—Odin’s handmaidens who choose slain heroes to bring to Valhalla
VANAHEIM—the home of the Vanir
VANIR—gods of nature; close to elves
YGGDRASIL—the World Tree
YMIR—the largest of the giants; father to both the giants and the gods. He was killed by Odin and his brothers, who used his flesh to create Midgard. This act was the genesis of the cosmic hatred between the gods and the giants.
Endnotes
A Word from the Manager
* All publications and the proceeds thereof will become the property of Hotel Valhalla.
The Gods and Goddesses
Odin
* Unconfirmed rumors claim the secret ingredient was the blood of Kvasir, a wise god who arose fully formed from a vat of divine spittle. The saliva itself came from the gods and goddesses, who took turns loogying into the vat to seal the truce that ended the Aesir-Vanir war. Two nasty dwarves, Fjalar and Gjalar, killed Kvasir and mixed his blood with honey to make the mead. The term “bloodthirsty” may originate with this event.
Freya
* Freya tossed the note aside after reading it. The recording raven caught a glimpse of two words: hammer and missing.
A Final Word from the Manager
* Daily schedule of activities posted in the foyer.
** Hotel management cannot be held responsible for damage to property or body, or death by elevator.
*** Wake-up calls available upon request. Press 0 and key in your room number and the time you wish to be woken by a blast from Heimdall’s horn.
Also by Rick Riordan
PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIANS
Book One: The Lightning Thief
Book Two: The Sea of Monsters
Book Three: The Titan’s Curse
Book Four: The Battle of the Labyrinth
Book Five: The Last Olympian
The Demigod Files
The Lightning Thief: The Graphic Novel
The Sea of Monsters: The Graphic Novel
The Titan’s Curse: The Graphic Novel
Percy Jackson’s Greek Gods
Percy Jackson’s Greek Heroes
THE KANE CHRONICLES
Book One: The Red Pyramid
Book Two: The Throne of Fire
Book Three: The Serpent’s Shadow
The Red Pyramid: The Graphic Novel
The Throne of Fire: The Graphic Novel
THE HEROES OF OLYMPUS
Book One: The Lost Hero
Book Two: The Son of Neptune
Book Three: The Mark of Athena
Book Four: The House of Hades
Book Five: The Blood of Olympus
The Demigod Diaries
The Lost Hero: The Graphic Novel
Demigods & Magicians
MAGNUS CHASE AND THE GODS OF ASGARD
Book One: The Sword of Summer
THE TRIALS OF APOLLO
Book One: The Hidden Oracle
Could You Please Stop Killing My Goat?
LESSON LEARNED: If you take a Valkyrie out for coffee, you’ll get stuck with the check and a dead body.
I hadn’t seen Samirah al-Abbas in almost six weeks, so when she called out of the blue and said we needed to talk about a matter of life and death, I agreed right away.
(Technically I’m already dead, which means the whole life-and-death thing didn’t apply, but still…Sam sounded anxious.)
She hadn’t yet arrived when I got to the Thinking Cup on Newbury Street. The place was packed as usual, so I queued up for coffee. A few seconds later, Sam flew in, literally, right over the heads of the café patrons.
Nobody batted an eye. Regular mortals aren’t good at processing magical stuff, which is fortunate, because otherwise Bostonians would spend most of their time running around in a panic from giants, trolls, ogres, and einherjar with battle axes and lattes.
Sam landed next to me in her school uniform—white sneakers, khaki slacks, and a long-sleeve navy shirt with the KING ACADEMY logo. A green hijab covered her hair. An ax hung from her belt. I was pretty sure the ax wasn’t standard dress code.
As glad as I was to see her, I noted that the skin under her eyes was darker than usual. She was swaying on her feet.
“Hey,” I said. “You look terrible.”
“Nice to see you, too, Magnus.”
“No, I mean…not terrible like different than normal terrible. Just terrible like exhausted.”
“Should I get you a shovel so you can dig that hole a little deeper?”
I raised my hands in surrender. “Where have you been the last month and a half?”
Her shoulders tightened. “My workload this semester has been killing me. I’m tutoring kids after school. Then, as you might remember, there’s my part-time job reaping souls of the dead and running top secret missions for Odin.”
“You kids today and your busy schedules.”
“On top of all that…there’s flight school.”
“Flight school?” We shuffled forward with the line. “Like airplanes?”
I knew Sam’s goal was to become a professional pilot someday, but I hadn’t realized she was already taking lessons. “You can do that at sixteen?”
Her eyes sparkled with excitement. “My grandparents could never have afforded it, but the Fadhlans have this friend who runs a flight school. They finally convinced Jid and Bibi—”
“Ah.” I grinned. “So the lessons were a gift from Amir.”
Sam blushed. She’s the only teenager I know who has a betrothed, and it’s cute how flustered she gets when she talks about Amir Fadhlan.
“Those lessons were the most thoughtful, the most considerate…” She sighed wistfully. “But enough of that. I didn’t bring you here to talk about my schedule. We have an informant to meet.”
“An informant?”
“This could be the break I’ve been waiting for. If his information is good—”
Sam’s phone buzzed. She fished it out of her pocket, checked the screen, and cursed. “I have to go.”
“You just got here.”
“Valkyrie business. Possible code three-eight-one: heroic death in progress.”
“You’re making that up.”
“I’m not.”
“So…what, somebody thinks they’re about to die and they text you ‘Going down! Need Valkyrie ASAP!’ followed by a bunch of sad-face emoticons?”
“I seem to recall taking your soul to Valhalla. You didn’t text me.”
“No, but I’m special.”
“Just get a table outside,” she said. “Meet my informant. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“I don’t even know what your informant looks like.”
“You’ll recognize him when you see him,” Sam promised. “Be brave. Also, get me a scone.”
She flew out of the shop like Super Muslima, leaving me to pay for our order.
RICK RIORDAN,
dubbed “storyteller of the gods” by Publishers Weekly, is the author of four New York Times #1 best-selling middle grade series with millions of copies sold throughout the world: Percy Jackson and the Olympians and the Heroes of Olympus, based on Greek and Roman mythology; the Kane Chronicles, based on ancient Egyptian mythology; and Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard, based on Norse mythology. His Greek myth collections, Percy Jackson’s Greek Gods and Percy Jackson’s Greek Heroes, were New York Times #1 best sellers as well. His latest novel, The Hidden Oracle, is the first entry in his Trials of Apollo series, about the adventures of a Greek god cast out of Olympus and sent down to Earth as a mortal teenager. Rick lives in Boston, Massachusetts, with his wife and two sons. For more information, go to rickriordan.com, or follow him on Twitter @camphalfblood.