Chapter 85: My funeral sucks!

(Magnus POV)

Turns out Valhalla had been sending its recycling to home plate at Fenway, which could explain any problems the Red Sox were having with their offensive line-up.

Hearthstone was just getting to his feet when I landed on top of him and knocked him flat. Percy landed on me and smacked his shield into my face accidently. For a brief second I was glad he did not accidentally decapitated me while falling down.

Blitzen crashed down too but Percy rolled out of the way and Blitzen ploughed into my chest before I could even recovered from kissing an ice shield.

Percy got up and glanced at me and Blitzen, struggling to get to our feet.

"Where are we?" Percy asked glancing at the rows of red bleachers.

I glanced at the field that was covered in a patchwork of frozen tarps that crunched under my feet. It must have been around six in the morning.

The eastern sky was just starting to turn grey. My breath steamed in the air.

"Fenway park!" I called out, "We are in Boston!"

Percy frowned, "Yes, but why?"

Blitzen shrugged, "There are a lot of ways out of Valhalla, some of them lead to Midgard.." Blitzen. "Yes but why Boston?" Percy asked annoyed.

Boston is the Nexus, close to the world tree Hearth signed.

"What was that squirrel thing?" I asked concerned, looking around to see if it might be she somewhere.

"Ratatosk." Blitzen grumbled, "The bane of the World Tree. Anyone who dares climb Yggdrasil's branches sooner or later has to deal with that monster. Count yourself lucky we escaped."

"Why did her bark paralyzes you?" Percy asked.

"You didn't got paralyzed?" Blitzen asked surprised.

I remembered how it bark insulted me in every thinkable way.

I shook the the unnerving feeling away, "What are we going to do now? Valhalla will come after us."

Hearthstone pointed towards the dawn. He signed, Sun. Bad for Blitzen. Blitz squinted.

"You're right. After that business on the bridge, I can't stand any more direct exposure."

"Why?" Percy asked, he eyed Blitzen suspiciously, "Are you a vampire?"

Blitzen grumbled and I noticed his cheeks had lightened to the colour of wet clay. "You are turning to stone?"

"'Kid, you may have noticed I never hung around with you much during the day?" Blitzen asked me grumpy.

"I … yeah. It was like Hearth took the day shift. You took the night shift."

"Wait, you guys have been watching over him?" Percy asked, "Why?"

"The boss, he ordered us to watch over Magnus." Blitzen explained, "It doesn't matter. I need to get out of the sunlight. Dwarves are subterranean creatures. Sunlight is deadly to us. Mind you, not as deadly as it is to trolls. I can stand a little bit, but if I'm out for too long I start to … uh, petrify."

My eyes widened, "O, gods. Can I do something?"

"Normally I use thick clothing, sunscreen, et cetera. But at the moment –" he gestured to his clothes – "I'm not prepared. I dropped my supply pack somewhere in the World Tree."

Hearthstone signed, After bridge, his legs turned to stone. No walking until night.

A lump formed in my throat. Blitz and Hearth's attempt to protect me on the Longfellow Bridge had been pretty ridiculous, but they'd tried. Just by being out in the daytime, Blitzen had risked his life.

As many questions as I had, as messed up as my life (death?) was at the moment, knowing that Blitzen was in danger again for my sake readjusted my priorities.

"We need to get you to somewhere dark." I said.

The easiest option was the Green Monster – the famous home-run-blocking four-storey wall along the left outfield. I'd been behind it once before on a school trip – first grade, maybe?

I remembered there were service doors under the scoreboard. I found one unlocked, and we slipped inside.

There wasn't much to see – just metal scaffolding, stacks of green number cards hanging on the wall, and the stadium's concrete ribs tattooed with a hundred years of graffiti. The space had one important requirement, though: it was dark.

Blitzen sat on a pile of mats and pulled off his boots. Acorns spilled out. His socks were grey paisley, matching his waistcoat. The socks amazed me as much as anything I'd encountered in Valhalla. "Blitz, what's with the outfit? You look so … spiffy."

He puffed up his chest. "Thank you, Magnus. It hasn't been easy dressing like a bum the last two years. No offence, of course."

Percy chuckled.

"Oh, and let's talk about that orange shirt you wear." Blitzen said with a smirk.

"What's wrong with my shirt?" Percy asked, looking at his camp shirt.

"The colors." Blitzen shook his head.

Back to business Hearth signed.

"Yes, why have you guys been watching over me for two years?"

Hearth signed, Told you. The boss.

"Is your boss Loki? Odin?" Percy guessed.

Blitzen snorted, "Our boss is smarter. The Capo knows better than publicity, he works behind the scenes. He assigned us to keep Magnus-"

Blitz coughed uncomfortably.

"Alive?" I guessed.

Blitzen shook the acorns out of his other boot. "We had one job. We failed. Keep him alive. said the Capo. Watch him. Protect him if needed, but don't interfere with his choices. He's important to the plan."

"The plan." Percy asked, "what is the plan?"

"The Capo knows things, can see the possible futures. He does his best to nudge events in the right direction, prevent the nine world from falling in Chaos."

"Hehe, Chaos." Percy giggled.

"That sounds like a good plan." I told Blitzen/

"Our job was to keep the son of Frey alive. He didn't go into details, but he was very insistent: you were important, had to be protected. When you died … well, I'm just glad we found you in Valhalla. Maybe all isn't lost. Now we've got to report to the Capo and get new orders."

Maybe he won't kill us Hearth signed, which made me nervous.

"I'm really curious about the identity of the boss." Percy murmured absently.

Hearth signed, Can't go in details.

"So what we do now?"

"Try to retrieve the sword." Percy said, "That's obviously the spill of all our problems."

"I had it when I fell of the bridge," I said, "But I have no idea what happened after I felt in the water with Surt."

"Is he dead?" Percy asked, "Like, dead dead?"

Hearth shook his head, Magnus not that lucky He signed.

"Yeah," Blitz agreed. "But fire giants don't do well in icy water. I imagine the impact shocked him right back to Muspellheim. And cutting off his nose … that was brilliant. It'll take him a while to regain enough strength to travel between worlds."

"Lucky us!" Percy said with fake enthusiasm

"But what about the other people? They saw Surt right? Why isn't everyone in panic?"

Percy sighed, "The mist."

"We actually call it glamour." Blitzen said.

Percy frowned, "Really?"

"Uh, sorry for interrupting but what is Glamour/mist?"

"It's something magical that hides divine things." Percy explained, Blitzen nodded agreeingly and said. " You'd be amazed what mortals don't see. Not just humans. Dwarves and elves are just as bad. Besides, giants are experts at glamour. Everyone thinks that the accident with the bridge had something to do with a meteor strike."

"Of course!" I said sarcastically.

"So, anyway," Blitz said ignoring my sarcasm, you fell in the river and died. The emergency services retrieved your body, but –"

"My body?" I flinched.

Hearthstone pulled a newspaper clipping from his jacket pocket and handed it to me. I read my own obituary. There was my class picture from fifth grade – my hair in my eyes, my uncomfortable why-am-I-here smile, my ratty DROPKICK MURPHYS T-shirt.

The obituary didn't say much. Nothing about my two-year disappearance, my homelessness, my mom's death. Just: Untimely demise. Survived by two uncles and a cousin. Private service to be held

"How?" Percy asked, "I mean, my body was destroyed when I flew of the liberty statue."

What? Hearth signed.

"Long story," Percy said, "But Magnus is here right?"

"This is his new and improved body. They retrieved your old body. Hearth and I did our own search of the river. There was no sign of Surt. Worse … there was no sign of the sword. If it's not at the bottom of the river again –"

"Maybe Randolph has it?" I guessed.

Hearth shook his head, We observed. He has not the sword.

"Maybe Surt?" Percy tried, "If it was stuck in his stomach when he died?"

Blitz shuddered. "Let's not assume that. There's still a chance it's with your old body.' 'Why would it be?"

Blitz pointed to Hearth. "Ask him. He's the expert at magic."

Hard to explain in signs, Hearth gestured. A magic sword stays with you. You claimed it

"But … I didn't."

You summoned it, Hearth signed. Held it first, before Surt. Hope that means Surt didn't get it. Don't know why the sword didn't go to Valhalla.

"I wasn't holding the sword when I hit the river," I said. "It slipped out of my hand."

"Ah." Blitz nodded. "That might be why. Still, the sword would traditionally go into your grave, or get burned on your pyre. So there's a decent chance it will materialize next to your dead body. We need to look in your coffin."

"You're joking right?" Percy asked seriously.

Blitzen ignored Percy and read the news paper, "your body is at the funeral home today for viewing hours. The service isn't until tonight. If you go now, you should have the place to yourself. The building isn't open yet, and you won't exactly have mourners lining up outside."

"Thanks!" I said.

Blitzen tugged on his boots. "I'll go talk to the boss. On the way, I'll pop by Svartalfheim and pick up some proper anti-sunlight supplies."

"You'll pop by the world of the dark elves?"

"Yeah. It's not as hard as it sounds. I've had a lot of practice, and Boston is at the centre of Yggdrasil. Slipping between worlds is easy here. One time Hearth and I stepped off a kerb in Kendall Square and fell into Niflheim by accident."

"Vikings are crazy." Percy muttered, then he glanced at me. "We three go visit Magnus' funeral!"

"Can you please not sound so cheerful?" I asked politely.

"Good," Blitzen said, "I'll meet you three at Arlington."

He gave me one final look, "And Magnus, you should get dressed. A pajama in the winter of Boston?"

He shuddered.

...

With Percy's magical credit card we bought me a set of new clothes. I learned that I could wield the hotel sword into a more "usable." (A key chain, not my choice) form thanks to the Mist/ Glamour.

Percy and Hearth had a long discussion about the difference between Mist and Glamour but honestly I didn't care to much about that.

The funeral home was near Washington and Charles, tucked in a row of Bay Village townhouses that seemed lost among the newer concrete and glass skyscrapers.

A sign on the awning read: TWINING & SONS MEMORIAL SERVICES. A display by the door listed upcoming viewings. The top one read: MAGNUS CHASE. The date was today, starting at 10 a.m. The door was locked. The lights were off.

"Early for my own funeral," I said. "Typical."

"This reminds me of the time I showed up at my own funeral?" Percy said studying the text.

"Say what?"

"I blew up a mountain and- Nevermind."

He knelt down at the lock and whispered "Ha Di." A strange, egyptic looking, symbol appeared in thin air and floated above the lock.

Percy stepped back and the lock exploded with a small bang, like a firecracker. "The Magic word is not, open please." Percy said with a smirk while swear pearled down his forehead.

You two go inside, I will stand guard here. Dead human bodies … He shuddered and shook his head.

Inside, the funeral home smelled of mouldering bouquets.

The threadbare red carpet and dark wood panelling made the whole place feel like one giant coffin. I crept down the hallway and peeked into the first room. It was set up like a chapel: three stained glass windows on the back wall, rows of folding chairs facing an open coffin on a dais.

I hated this already. I'd been raised non-religious. I'd always considered myself an atheist.

"Looks nice enough." Percy said, trying to comfort me.

I slowly nodded and moved towards my coffin.

Percy walked over to a small table, with a guest book and wrote something.

I forced myself down the aisle. When I saw my own face in the coffin, I nearly threw up.

Not because I'm that ugly, but because … well, you know how weird it is to hear your own voice on a recording? And how irritating it can be to see yourself in a photo if you don't think you look good?

Okay, imagine seeing your actual body lying right in front of you. It was so real, and yet so not me. My hair was shellacked to the sides of my head. My face was caked with make-up, probably to cover cuts and bruises.

My mouth was fixed in a weird little smile that I never would've made in real life. I was dressed in a cheap-looking blue suit with a blue tie. I hated blue. My hands were clasped over my stomach, hiding the place where I'd been impaled by a molten piece of asphalt.

"No, no, no." I gripped the sides of the coffin.

I never wanted to be buried, I wanted to be cremated, like my mother. My ash spread in the woods. We wanted to be in the sunshine and the fresh air and just kind of dissolve.

We had promised each other that the last person to die would make sure the other get a proper funeral.

Scatter the ashes in the woods of the Blue Hills.

Instead I ran away, and now I was dead too.

My eyes watered. "I'm sorry, Mom."

Percy stood next to me and placed his hand on his shoulder, "The sword." he said softly. "Focus on the things you have to do."

But as he said it I knew the sword was not with my body. It was a instinctive feeling, nothing I could explain.

"It's not here," I stammered, "I can't feel it."

Percy nodded, "Okay, well let's get out of this depressing place."

I nodded but before we would leave Percy pointed at the guest book.

I leaned over the guest book and saw Percy left a message.

"What can you say on a wedding but not on a funeral?" Percy asked innocently.

The Cake sucked was written in the guestbook. I cracked a smile, my homeless friends would surely laugh at it.

"We'll get through this." Percy said.

"Thanks," I sad, "This makes it a bit better."

Behind me, a broken voice said, "Percy, Magnus?" I almost jumped out of my Wiggles shirt. Standing in the doorway was my cousin Annabeth.