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

Captain Hrym sniffled. It seemed like he wanted to give Hearthstone a hug but was afraid that might not look good in front of his crew.

“Samirah al-Abbas,” I said. “Daughter of Loki, but better than Loki!”

Loki laughed. “I beg your pardon? This girl is not even—”

“A Valkyrie, sworn to Odin’s most important tasks!” My words were coming easily now. I could feel a rhythm to them, an unstoppable cadence and certainty. Maybe that was because of Kvasir’s Mead. Or maybe it was because I was speaking the truest things I knew. “You have felt her spear of light scorch your forces in combat! Her stamina is steel. Her faith is unwavering. She has overcome her father’s sway! She saved our ship from the dreaded vatnavaettir! She outflew the great Baugi in his eagle form, delivering Kvasir’s Mead to our crew! And she has done all of this while fasting for Ramadan.”

Several giants gasped. Some put their hands to their throats as if just realizing how thirsty they were.

“Samirah,” Loki growled, “turn into a lizard and scuttle away, my dear.”

Sam frowned at him. “No, Father, I don’t think I will. Why don’t you?”

“Oooh!” Some of the giants even clapped.

I was definitely taller than usual now. Or wait…Loki was getting shorter.

But I needed more. I turned to Alex. “Let me tell you all about Alex Fierro!”

“Saving the best for last?” Alex asked, a hint of challenge in her voice.

“She is our secret weapon!” I said. “The Terror of Jorvik! The creator of Pottery Barn, ceramic warrior!”

“I got some lovely place mats at Pottery Barn,” one of the giants muttered to a friend.

“At the House of Chase, he decapitated a wolf with nothing more than a wire, then drank guava juice from the horn of my ancestors!”

“He?” asked a giant.

“Just go with it,” said another.

“She once decapitated Grimwolf the elder lindworm!” I continued. “She defeated the sorcery of Utgard-Loki in a bowling tournament of horrors! She won the trust and affection of the goddess Sif! She kept me alive across the frozen sea of Niflheim, and when she kissed me under that blanket yesterday…” I met Alex’s two-color eyes. “Well, that was just about the best thing that ever happened to me.”

I turned toward Loki. My face was burning. I’d spoken maybe just a wee bit more truth than I’d intended, but I couldn’t let that break my momentum.

“Loki, you asked me who I am? I’m part of this team. I’m Magnus Chase from floor nineteen, Hotel Valhalla. I’m the son of Frey, son of Natalie, friend of Mallory, Halfborn, T.J., Blitzen, Hearthstone, Samirah, and Alex. This is my family! This is my othala. I know they will always support me, which is why I’m standing here, triumphant, on your ship, surrounded by my family, and you…even in the midst of thousands, you. Are. Still. Alone.”

Loki hissed. He backed into a wall of scowling draugr. “I am not alone! Sigyn! Dear wife!”

Sigyn had vanished. At some point during the flyting, she must have retreated into the crowd. That silent act spoke louder than centuries of verbal abuse.

“Alex! Samirah!” Loki tried for a confident smile. “Come on, my dears. You know I love you! Don’t be difficult. Kill your friends for me and all will be forgiven.”

Alex adjusted her shaggy green fur cloak over her sweater vest. “Sorry, Mom. I’m afraid I gotta say no.”

Loki dashed toward Samirah, who pushed him back at spear point. The trickster was about three feet tall now. He tried changing form. Fur sprouted across his brow. Fishy scales appeared on the backs of his hands. Nothing seemed to stick.

“You can’t hide from yourself, Loki,” I said. “No matter what form you take, you’re still you—alone, scorned, bitter, faithless. Your insults are hollow and desperate. You don’t stand a chance against us, because you don’t have an us. You are Loki, always alone.”

“I hate you all!” the god screamed, spittle flying. Acid oozed from his pores, hissing against the deck. “None of you are worthy of my company, much less my leadership!”

As Loki shrank, his scarred face rippled, contorting with rage. Acid steamed in puddles all around him. I wondered if this was all the venom that Skadi’s viper had dripped on him over the centuries, or if it was simply part of Loki’s essence. Perhaps Sigyn had tried to shield Loki from the snake because she knew her husband was already full of poison. He could barely keep his human form from liquefying into the stuff.

“You think your happy friendship speech means anything?” he snarled. “Is it time for a group hug now? You make me sick!”

“You’ll have to speak up,” I said. “It’s hard to hear you from way down there.”

Loki paced and ranted, no more than a few inches tall now, wading through puddles of his own venom. “I will kill you slowly! I will have Hel torture the spirits of everyone you love! I will—”

“Escape?” Samirah asked, blocking Loki with her spear point as he darted left. He ran to the right, but Alex put down her pink ski boot to stop him.

“I don’t think so, Mom,” said Alex. “I like you down there. And now, Mallory Keen has a lovely parting gift for you.”

Mallory hopped forward and brought out the walnut.

“No!” Loki squeaked. “No, you wouldn’t dare! I will never—”

Mallory tossed the nut toward the miniature god. The shell opened, inhaling Loki with a vicious sucking noise, then snapped shut again. The walnut rattled and quivered on the deck. A little voice was shouting obscenities from inside, but the shell remained sealed.

The giants frowned down at the walnut.

Captain Hrym cleared his throat. “Well, that was interesting.” He turned to me. “Congratulations, Magnus Chase! You won that flyting fair and square. I am impressed! I hope you’ll accept my apology for having to kill you all now.”





I DID NOT accept his apology.

Neither did my friends. They formed a protective ring around me and began slashing through the enemy ranks, slowly shuffling toward the starboard side of the ship.

Still hopping on one leg, Mallory Keen scooped up her evil walnut and dropped it into her pocket, then demonstrated her dual-knife-wielding prowess by stabbing her blades into Captain Hrym’s crotch.

Halfborn and T.J. fought like killing machines. I didn’t want to give myself credit for their gusto, but the way they plowed through troops of draugr was awe-inspiring, almost as if they were determined to be as good as I’d described them—as if my words had made them larger while making Loki smaller.

“Follow me!” Sam yelled, her spear of light blasting a path to starboard. Alex swung her garrote like a whip, lopping off the heads of any giants who came too close.