#mcga jack

Fandom: Trials of Apollo/Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard
Rating:Teen
Genre: Adventure, Friendship
Characters: Will Solace, Magnus Chase, Apollo, Nico di Angelo, Alex Fierro, Meg McCaffrey

Little bit of semi-outsider pov for this chapter because I love outsider pov.  Also a few things I think people were waiting for… I also did some art for this chapter, because I do rarely do art for my own fics, which is at the bottom~

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<<<Chapter 21

MAGNUS (XXII)
Will Gets A Weapons Upgrade

Apollo was obviously not happy with the decision.  At all. Magnus had seen unhappy gods before, and was slightly amazed at how confidently Will overrode him, especially given the other healer’s apparent lack of self-esteem, but he didn’t falter at all in the face of Apollo’s protest.  The god even caved, although it was impossible to miss that he’d rather take the mortals literally anywhere else, with the possible exception of back to Angrboda.  Maybe it was the prophecy line that had cinched it – Apollo was the god of prophecy, if he was remembering that correctly, so he probably knew better than the rest of them how prophecies worked.

“Time’s not on our side,” Will said to the group at large, although his focus was primarily aimed towards Magnus and Jack, presumably because they were the ones that knew the way. Alex had been right about him; he didn’t shy away from listening to people who knew better than he did. Magnus could think of several people – mortals, einherjar and gods alike – who could take a lesson or two in the topic from Will.  “The Lord of the Skies will not be messing around and we have to reach Odin before he does. Where’s this entrance?”

Idly, Magnus wondered how Zeus was faring with Heimdall.  He couldn’t kill him, because he was fated to fight Loki in Ragnarok, but he didn’t imagine the Greek king of the gods would be taking particularly kindly to being showered with selfies.  He really hoped Heimdall wasn’t about to blow the “Ragnarok is starting!” horn and prepare all the einherjar for war, either.

“Not far at all, señor,” Jack replied.  “Are we ready to go?”  The sword buzzed a little, and floated a couple of feet away, in the direction of the entrance they could both sense, although Magnus knew that Jack was more finely attuned to it than he was.

“There’s no point waiting,” Will agreed, clambering to his feet.  “You can fill us in on what we need to know on the way.”  He glanced at the remains of the bow in his hand, and Magnus saw a torn look cross his face before he let the remains of the weapon fall and without looking back headed to where Jack was dancing on the spot to a beat only the sword could hear.

“I really don’t think this is a good idea, you know,” Apollo muttered.  “This is far too dangerous.”  His complaints went ignored as the rest of them followed Jack and Will.

“So, Valhalla?” the blond asked as they walked.  “What should we be expecting?”

“Death,” Magnus said bluntly.

“On the plus side,” Alex added, “if it comes down to it, you’ll have me and Magnus to act as human shields.  If we die, we’ll wake up in bed a few hours later.”  Magnus grimaced, but couldn’t find a flaw in his logic.

“Depending where the door comes out,” he said, “we could probably get the rest of floor nineteen to cover us.”

“Notmore demigod deaths,” Apollo bemoaned, as though he hadn’t spent two weeks living as an einherjar and knew exactly how deaths worked in Valhalla.  “There’s been quite enough of those recently.  Will, are you sure you want to do this?”

His son didn’t even look in his direction, blue eyes remaining fixed on Magnus himself, who decided to take cues about handling the god from said god’s son and continued talking.

“It wouldn’t be the first time they covered for me,” he shrugged.  “It won’t be the last, either.”

“Floor nineteen sticks together,” Alex reminded the god, apparently more willing to risk a divine temper tantrum, “and while you were an antisocial hermit who wouldn’t give us the time of day if you could help it, you’re still floor nineteen.”

“Even though I’m actually a god?” Apollo asked, sounding almost surprised that the einherjar would still consider him one of them now they – and he – knew who he really was.

Magnus just laughed, remembering X and the revelation that they’d been living with Odin all along. “You’re not the first hidden god we’ve had on the floor.”

“Floor nineteen’s the best floor,” Alex grinned.  “Never a dull moment.”

“If the rest of them are anything like you two, I can believe that,” Nico said dryly.  “Assume things don’t go to plan; what do we need to watch out for?”

That was a smart question, but also one they didn’t want to know the answer to, in Magnus’ opinion. “The Valkyrie, for one, and then the other einherjar,” he said.  “Most of them are crazy and will jump at the chance to kill you.  You can’t let your guard down for a second, any of you.”

“Otherwise, there’s the wolves and the ravens,” Alex added.  “You’ve already met the wolves.”

“That’s a short list,” Meg pointed out.  “We took down the wolves easily last time.”

“Don’t take Valhalla lightly,” Apollo warned.  “There are tens of thousands of einherjar there, and none of them will hesitate to take a life.”

“Best case scenario, it’s battle time and the halls are mostly empty,” Magnus told them.  “Worst case scenario, it’s just before the battle when everyone’s bloodlust is highest.”

“Or a few hours after the battle, and everyone’s out for revenge against whoever killed them,” Alex added lightly.  “Let’s be honest, the chances of all six of us surviving the trip through Valhalla are pretty much zero.”

“This is why I don’t want to do this,” Apollo griped.  “It’s not too late to change your minds, you know.”  He sounded incredibly hopeful that they would, but also resigned to the fact that they were all far too stubborn to back out now.

Sure enough, none of the mortals even hesitated as they continued to follow Jack, who was singing along to himself as he danced on ahead, much like the old story of the pied piper.

“Any other plan would take too long,” Will said firmly, finally acknowledging his dad’s words.  Considering how desperate he’d been to find him in the first place, his attitude now that they hadseemed a little contrary and Magnus wondered what was going on in his head.  “We can handle Valhalla for a few minutes.”

Apollo shook his head in what Magnus thought was a little too much like despair.  “Don’t underestimate Valhalla,” he pleaded again. “Will.”

His son went back to pretending he hadn’t spoken.

Magnus just hoped they were only there a few minutes.  Valhalla was huge, and if they didn’t appear near any of the Asgard exits he knew of, it was going to take a trek across the hotel while dodging everything that wanted to kill them.  If it came down to it, Alex was right.  The two of them would have to play human shields for the rest, while Jack led the others out.  Magnus couldn’t say he was particularly enthused at the idea.  He might be used to dying, but that didn’t make it fun.

The entrance to Valhalla wasn’t particularly grand, nor noticeable.  If it wasn’t for Jack, Magnus didn’t think any of them would have known it was there at all, which was probably a good thing.  The last thing any of them particularly wanted was giants joining in the daily battles on their own whim, or even invading Valhalla en masse to use as a stepping stone into the other eight worlds.  Thor was protecting Midgard, but Magnus wasn’t so sure he was protecting any of the others.

It was a crack between two stones – boulders, more like, each as large as the Chase Space yet crammed so tightly together that not even Nico, the skinniest of the six, ought to be able to squeeze through between them.  It certainly wouldn’t be big enough for the likes of Halfborn to muscle his way through, despite being one of the ways to invade Jotunheim if this was where Ragnarok began, without a little magical assistance.

Magical assistance was something Magnus and Jack both had in spades.  Or swords, more accurately.  Pointy, talking swords who pointedly nudged their hilts into Magnus’ hand and then swung with no real regard for whether or not Magnus’ arm was supposed to bend in that direction.

They were getting better at that, mostly as Magnus slowly learnt how to actually wield a sword and adjusted the rest of his body’s stance to accommodate the swing of his arm. Still, it would probably never not be weird having the movement of his arm dictated by a sword, rather than the other way around, even if the sword in question was a sentient, talking one like Jack.

He saw Will eyeing his shoulder in the corner of his eye.  Apollo, too, didn’t look overly impressed, but then the god was still grumpy about their chosen route to Asgard.

The gods, he had been told by Annabeth, were bad news when they were grumpy.  He had some experience of that himself, of course, but his cousin had been actively dealing with gods since she was seven.  She didn’t have many tales to tell about Apollo, not compared to carefully-worded complaints about Zeus and Hera, and even a very cautious mention of her own mother once, but the implication was still there, and Magnus hoped that Apollo wasn’t going to go full godly temper tantrum on them at some point.  The looks the god kept sending his son were loaded with something that on a mortal he’d call concern, but Magnus wasn’t confident in interpreting godly expressions so maybe it was something else entirely.

So far, though, he hadn’t exploded, and Magnus was sincerely hoping it stayed that way – or at least until they got into Valhalla, when it didn’t matter if he and Alex ended up dead a few thousand times over and could shield the mortals rather more effectively because he didn’t want to see any of them die, and certainly not from death-by-the-god-they’re-helping.

Speaking of Valhalla, Jack had once again proven himself the sharpest known blade in the nine worlds and cut a neat slice through the gap between the boulders, tearing the fabric of Jotunheim apart and giving a glimpse of familiar hallways and wolf motifs through the resulting portal.

Magnus might be used to the wolf decorations by now, but that didn’t mean he had reached the stage of being happy about them.  He was pretty certain he never would.

“Guess I’m up first,” Alex drawled, sounding bored as he gripped his garotte tightly and strode towards the portal, all pink and green and lazy confidence.  “Just in case there’s something waiting to execute anyone that comes through.”

The chance was a little higher than even odds, Magnus reckoned, although he didn’t bother saying it out loud.  Alex knew what Valhalla was like, and the mortals plus god all looked varying shades of green at the idea – or Alex’s nonchalance at possibly going to his death. That too.

“Don’t hang around too long,” was his last warning, before he ducked through and vanished.

“Last chance to change your mind,” Apollo said insistently, looking at the three mortals.  “Will, Meg-”

The daughter of Demeter didn’t bother waiting for him to finish speaking before following Alex, fist full of seeds at the ready.

Apollo sighed dejectedly. Magnus saw Will at least acknowledge the god again, this time with an apologetic yet firm look, before stepping forwards with Nico, but didn’t manage to pass through before his father’s hand grabbed his arm firmly, pulling him to a halt.  Nico paused, but Will nudged him to keep going before turning to face Apollo.

“Apollo,” he started, “we-”

“Don’t have time to argue, I know,” Apollo overrode him, “or to find a different way.”  He still didn’t seem happy about it, but there was a set to his jaw that Magnus thought read a little more like determination than desperation, right then.  “But the einherjar,” he nodded at Magnus, who gave a tight-lipped smile, “are not exaggerating, and nor am I.  Valhalla is deadly, Will.”

“So was Manhattan,” Will retorted.  “And Camp Jupiter.  And the second Gigantomachy.  And the Tower.”  Magnus didn’t know the story of the last one beyond the brief run-down Will had given way back at Fadlan’s Falafel, but he’d heard about the other three from Annabeth in more detail, who had been through them all.  It hadn’t occurred to him that the demigods he was with right now might have been there as well.  They didn’t seem old enough.  “Camp, too, when we were invaded by giants and other monsters.”  Magnus was pretty sure she’d mentioned that one, too.

Apollo winced at every event his son named, but ploughed on.

“That doesn’t mean I’m letting you go in defenceless,” he insisted.  Will’s fingers twitched around air, the remains of his broken bow somewhere behind them in Jotunheim, likely never to be seen again.  “Actually, it makes me even more determined that you won’t.”

“There’s not exactly a choice.”  Will tugged to get free, but Apollo’s grip didn’t relent.

“There is.”  The hand not clutching Will’s arm like the demigod would disappear if it let go extended forwards, until the knuckles of the fist lightly bumped against the bright orange CHB t-shirt the blond was wearing.  In its grip was the golden bow.  “Take it.”

Will’s jaw dropped as his eyes widened.  “But-  Dad-  That’s yours!” he stuttered, blinking at the weapon in disbelief, and what seemed to be more than a bit of horror.  Magnus wondered if he realised that was the first time he’d called the god as such since Angrboda.  Apollo certainly did, if the way his shoulders lost a fraction of tension was anything to go by.

“And now I’m giving it to you,” the god said firmly.  “You are not entering Valhalla unarmed, Will.  Take it.”

People with common sense tended not to defy gods – Magnus had never claimed to have any of that, and Alex and Sam would both back him up on that in a heartbeat.  Unlike Magnus, clearly Will did have at least some common sense, because his fingers cautiously wrapped around the bow, tentative as though he thought it was about it bite him, but taking hold of it just the same.

His eyes widened as he did so, but he still didn’t look enamoured with being given a godly weapon. In fact, he looked more like he believed he was in a dream, or even a nightmare, from the way he was eyeing the bow with some trepidation.  Magnus figured that as long as it didn’t talk – or at least have a terrible taste in songs – it couldn’t be worse than Jack.

“I can’t take this,” Will said, shaking his head slowly.  “I can’t draw this.  No-one can draw your bows, Dad.  They tend to immolate people who try.”

“Unworthy people,” Apollo corrected.  “You, Will, my son, are not unworthy.”  He let go of the bow, leaving it entirely in Will’s hands.  “I haven’t given you the attention you deserve, I know, and I understand if you resent me for it – you have every right to – but if there’s one thing I say that you listen to, please, listen to this:  You are worthy, you’re amazing, and I am so proud to be your father.”

Will looked like he had half a mind to argue with that, so maybe he didn’t have as much common sense as Magnus had attributed to him after all, but a look from Apollo seemed to quell any protests sitting on his tongue.  It didn’t, however, stop Will’s other argument.  “They’re also too heavy, Dad,” he said.  “This is at least twice the draw weight I can manage.”

Apollo chuckled lightly. “You’ll do fine,” he promised, placing his hand on top of Will’s head and musing up the blond strands there a bit. “William Solace, you have my blessing to use this bow.”  A golden glow lit up the demigod and weapon alike, brighter than anything Magnus had seen Will produce himself, before sinking into skin and golden bow.

Will’s blue eyes, a lot like his father’s, Magnus noticed not for the first time, widened again in shock.  Magnus himself was surprised; gods tended not to give out blessings unless there was something in it for them, but all Apollo was doing was disarming himself by giving Will his weapon, especially with his own powers apparently not readily available thanks to Odin’s runes (and that was a thought Magnus quickly skipped over rather than dwell on any longer).  There was no notable benefit for the god, and that went against all his encounters with Norse gods and all the stories he’d heard about the Greek ones.

Suddenly, he felt like an intruder, witnessing something sacred that was never meant for his eyes – or the eyes of anyone aside from Will and his father.

Slowly, Will pulled an arrow from his never-ending quiver and nocked it to the string.  Apollo moved to one side, standing next to Magnus but not acknowledging him, and both of them watched as, with trembling fingers, Will raised the bow and slowly drew back the string, astonishment all over his face as it actually obeyed him, drawing all the way back to his jaw.  He held it there at full draw for a heartbeat, maybe two, before letting the arrow fly off into the distant landscape of Jotunheim.

It was another heartbeat before he lowered his arms, both the left hand holding the bow and the right hand hovering at his shoulder, looking absolutely gobsmacked.

“I-”

“I said you’d be fine,” Apollo reminded him, something that could have been a proud smile if he wasn’t still so clearly unhappy about the next stage of their quest playing across his lips.  His hand rested on Will’s shoulder, and his son looked up at him with wide, still disbelieving eyes.  It made him look more like his age, Magnus thought, suddenly remembering that the blond wasn’t even as old as he’d been when he’d died.  Will didn’t act like it.  The god’s face shifted into something a little more serious.  “We don’t have time to talk now, Will, but we will do. I promise.”  He looked genuinely remorseful about their time limit.  “Unfortunately, we need to get moving now.  Jack and Magnus have been remarkably patient, but I somehow doubt they can hold the doorway open forever, and I’m sure the others will be wondering what’s taking us so long.  Quite frankly, I’m a little surprised Meg hasn’t come back to drag us through.”

Unlike the portals on and off of Yggdrasil, which were temporary at best and a drain on Magnus if he tried to keep them forcibly open for any length of time, the doors into Valhalla were permanent, if not normally held open.  Magnus wasn’t actually feeling any strain from opening the door, which was nice, although he could do without the aching shoulder when Jack had yanked it just a little too far in the wrong direction.  Will glanced over at him and Magnus got the feeling he was being assessed, which was proven correct a moment later when the son of Apollo approached him and placed his hand exactly over the strained muscle.

“Let me,” was all he said before humming quietly, barely audible even with Magnus’ enhanced hearing. It was an unfamiliar tune, but when he looked over at Apollo, the god was smiling fondly at his son, something that could only be pride clear in his eyes.

It reminded him of how his own dad looked at him, how Mom used to look at him, and Magnus suddenly realised that Apollo loved Will, a fact that was completely at odds with the stories he knew of the Greek gods but explained the god’s actions perfectly.

Warmth on his shoulder pulled his attention back to the other demigod.  It was the first time Magnus could remember being successfully healed by someone other than himself; obviously, Will’s technique was different, but Magnus could feel the fibres of his muscles shifting around until the ache vanished, leaving his shoulder feeling as good as new.

“Thanks,” he said, more automatically than anything else, and Will smiled at him.

“No worries,” he promised. “I know I’ve not done a good job of showing it so far – not that that was my fault,” he added hurriedly when Apollo made a pointed noise in the back of his throat, although Magnus wasn’t completely sold that he believed what he was saying, despite the pep talk he’d been given earlier, “- but healing’s always been my primary ability.”

“One of the best,” Apollo interjected quietly, and Magnus wondered how he ever missed the god’s thoughts on his son.  “It’s rare for my children to inherit it quite so strongly, you know.”

Magnus couldn’t read the look that flickered briefly through Will’s eyes as his fellow blond let his hand fall back to his side and muttered something under his breath he probably wasn’t supposed to hear.  “Did the others get it at the expense of everything else, too?”

Unfortunately for Will, Magnus wasn’t the only one with keener ears than the average mortal.

“Healers aren’t warriors.” Apollo flashed his son a soft, proud smile.  “You save lives, not take them, and trust me, that’s far more impressive.  Your powers-” there was a stress on the plural “-are all incredible, just like you.”  He gestured at the bow.  “That’s to keep you safe, Will, not turn you into something you’re not meant to be.”

If Apollo’s aim had been to cheer up his son, Magnus didn’t think he did a particularly great job of it, because Will frowned.  “Now you’ve got nothing to keep you safe,” he pointed out.  “Without you, this quest won’t finish.”

Magnus saw Apollo squeeze Will’s shoulder lightly in a manner that was obviously supposed to be reassuring.  “I’m a god, Will.  I’m not defenceless anymore, and einherjar can’t kill me.”

That did not pacify Will in the slightest, judging by the look on his face.  Either Apollo was totally oblivious, or just didn’t want to discuss it any further – which was definitely more like standard god-like behaviour, in Magnus’ experience – because he ducked around his son and vanished through the door, leaving the two healers and Jack behind.

Will’s knuckles went white around the bow, but there was a soft look of reluctant fondness creeping onto his face that didn’t make his thoughts on Apollo any less confusing to decipher.  “He’s ridiculous,” he muttered, before turning to look at Magnus.  “Let’s get going before they start worrying.”

“Alex, worry?”  Magnus rolled his eyes.  “Your boyfriend might, but Alex will just tease me for being slow.”

“And that isn’t his way of worrying?” Will asked.  He disappeared through the door before Magnus’ brain could catch up.

“Nah,” he said to the portal, Jack hovering alongside him but not the point of address.  “He’s worrying when he comes to find me.  Let’s go, Jack.”

He stepped through.

Chapter 23>>>

Fandom: Trials of Apollo/Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard
Rating:Teen
Genre: Adventure, Friendship
Characters: Will Solace, Magnus Chase, Apollo, Nico di Angelo, Alex Fierro, Meg McCaffrey

Unfortunately for you guys, there’s going to be a longer wait for chapter 26 than normal because I’m busy irl.  I’m not yet certain if the next update will be next Saturday, or the Weds after that; it’ll depend on rl.  In the meantime, enjoy~

Reminder that there’s now a discord server for all my fics, including this one!  If you wanna chat with me or with other readers about stuff I write (or just be social in general), hop on over and say hi!

<<<Chapter 24

WILL (XXV)
Some Unplanned Nap Time

Nico jerked upright. “People are coming,” he said urgently. Dead people, the son of Hades no doubt meant. Einherjar.

“Where from?” Will asked, looking around.  He let go of Meg so he had a free hand to pluck an arrow from his quiver.

“Behind us,” Nico clarified. “From the stairs.  There’s too many to fight our way through.”

“Can you stop them?” Will hated asking it, because he was certain that the effort of controlling that many dead would leave Nico incapacitated, but incapacitated was marginally better than dead.

Nico shook his head. “I don’t think I can control einherjar,” he admitted.  “I haven’t tried, but it doesn’t feel like I can.  Maybe because they’re under Odin’s domain instead of my father’s?”

Apollo nodded.  “That would do it,” he admitted in a low voice, as though he didn’t want Carrie or the new einherjar from floor nineteen to hear him.

“Then we’ll have to keep running,” Magnus said, tugging on his pendant.  Jack materialised.  “Lead the way, Jack.”

“Right, señor!” The sword started forwards, only to block a swing from an axe.

Carrie smirked again, the expression twisting what was a reasonably pretty face into something ugly and cruel.  “You’re not going anywhere,” she told them.  “I told you, Lord Apollo – you’ve done your part.  As for those two-” she sneered at Nico and Meg, “-their deaths will add a little more fuel to the fire, wouldn’t you say?  A son of the so-called Big Three and a daughter of one of the elder Olympians – their parents don’t usually get involved in wars, do they?”  She flung her javelin straight at Nico, who barely dodged in time.  “The deaths of their children should incite them nicely.”

“Olympians?” T.J. asked, turning to face the approaching stampede behind them.

“Like the Olympics?” Mallory sounded equally confused.  Halfborn, on the other hand, let out what sounded like a very colourful string of expletives in Norse.

“The stories… the gods of Greece… they’re real?”

“Of course they are, you oaf,” Carrie rolled her eyes, before returning her attention to Apollo, who looked as taut as a bowstring.  “As for your son, Lord Apollo, well, I don’t think anyone will miss him.”

Nicosnarled and lunged forwards before Will could even process what she’d said.  Stygian Iron flashed, a void in the hallway of Valhalla, and clashed against an axe.

A warm hand rested heavily on his shoulder, squeezing tightly.  It was trembling minutely, and Will glanced at his dad, whose eyes had shifted a hue or two closer to burning gold.

“What is going on?” T.J.’s voice had climbed half an octave.

“We’ll explain later!” Alex’s voice cracked through the air.  “Run.”  A jaguar launched itself at Carrie, shoving Nico out of the way of a swinging axe and swiping deadly claws at the Valkyrie, who dodged backwards.  “I’ll handle my sister.”  He snarled the term as though it was the deepest insult he could give.

With the hoard of einherjar almost upon them, they needed no more encouragement.  Jack shot past where the jaguar was suddenly wrestling with a wolf, before it turned to a bear and a wolf, and if it wasn’t for the streaks of pink and green in the bear’s fur, Will wouldn’t have had a clue which one was Alex as he followed Magnus and the others in darting past, barely noticing when Apollo’s hand fell away but aware of his father keeping pace with him in his periphery.

The wolf snarled and tried to snap at them as they fled, but the bear flung it into the wall before picking it up again and hurtling it at the oncoming einherjar.

Will didn’t look to see what happened as he kept running, bow held at the ready in his right hand and an arrow in the fingers of his left.  Behind them, there was noise, animals howling – wolves, and more than could be accounted for by the two shapeshifters – and battle cries in multiple languages.

He really hoped their exit wasn’t far, because they were being gained on every moment.  Alex was no doubt in the thick of the fray, but there was no way the child of Loki could keep their pursuers all at bay; Carrie alone was a dangerous threat, and she wasn’t even an einherjar, by the sounds of it.

The same thought must have run through the minds of the rest of them, because without warning the rest of floor nineteen, barring Magnus, stopped running.

“Go!” Halfborn bellowed when Will faltered.  “We will hold them back.”

“This is what Beantown asked us for in the first place,” Mallory reminded them, a sharp grin on her face.  Her thin knives flashed as she twirled them in her fingers.

“Make sure you do whatever it is you need to,” T.J. added.  “Floor nineteen!”

The trio’s war cry was at least as impressive as anything else Will had heard from behind them as they charged back the way they’d come.

“I owe you guys!” Magnus yelled back at them.  Unlike the rest, he hadn’t slowed at all.  “They’ll be fine,” he urged, a lie because Will knew they were going to die, but there was enough conviction in his voice nonetheless that Will found himself speeding up again, running alongside Nico with Apollo and Meg now immediately ahead of them.  Magnus himself ducked back until he was covering their backs, taking up the position that Alex had held all the way through Valhalla.

Unlike Alex, Magnus didn’t give off quite so much of a comforting air, as though nothing could get through him.  Then again, Magnus was primarily a healer, not a warrior, despite his current situation as one of Odin’s honoured warriors.

Will found the energy to run a little faster, keeping his eyes studiously on the glowing sword hurtling through the air ahead of them and trying very hard not to think about who they’d left behind, how much time the four members of floor nineteen would be able to buy them, and the fact that they were going to diefor them.

“Nearly there!” Jack promised.  He wasn’t even singing, which Will registered as an unusual occurrence.  Not that long ago, he’d have thought a talking sword was unusual, but Jack had come through for them enough times that he was just part of the group now.

Three to start, and six to end.  They’d thought the six of them were the same six that had been travelling through Jotunheim together, but Alex had fallen behind, and Jack wassentient…

But that meant that Alex was going to be killed by his own sister, and Will wasn’t desensitised enough by his exposure to the einherjar to be able to think of death as anything less than final, despite everything he’d been told to the contrary. To have it at the hands of family – by the definition of shared blood, because Alex and Carrie certainly didn’t seem to consider each other family the same way Will thought of Austin, Kayla, Jerry, Gracie and Yan, to say nothing of Lee, Michael and the others he’d lost during the last two wars.

He shook his head fiercely. Now was not the time to think about his dead siblings, who were very dead and not secretly squirrelled away in an afterlife hotel in preparation of a battle.

“Just around the next corner!” Jack encouraged them, before disappearing around said corner himself. Without an einherjar to help him make the turn, Will almost stumbled over his own feet trying to decelerate enough to make it without crashing into the wall.  His shoulder still knocked it, and he dropped the arrow he was holding.

A moment later, something large and heavy crashed against the wall behind him, narrowly missing Magnus. It was pink and green and red, a deep crimson that smeared the wall as the bear pulled itself back upright and shimmered into a far more familiar face.

“The others are down,” Alex reported, running bloody hands through his hair as they kept running. “There’s wolves right behind me.”

Wolves?  Will remembered the wolves outside the Chase Space, aggressive but weak to the same things as any other canid.  “Just wolves?” he asked.

“Just wolves,” Magnus muttered, his voice a little higher.  “Just wolves, he says.”

“They’re the closest,” Alex confirmed.  “By the way, she and her now.”

Will did not have the mental capacity to react to that and their situation at the same time, so he left that unacknowledged.  “Run on ahead,” he said, slowing and drawing another arrow from his quiver.

“Will!” Apollo and Nico yelled immediately, slowing in turn.  Will shot them both his best I know what I’m doing and you will shut up and listen or so help me glare, perfected from years of dealing with problematic patients.

“Keep running,” he demanded. “And cover your ears.”

He couldn’t stop the einherjar.  But he could slow down the wolves.

Apollo made a pained noise and Nico yelled at him again, but Will refused to cave.  “I know what I’m doing,” he promised, vocalising the words because clearly his glare hadn’t been good enough, “Dad, you need to get to Asgard.”

“Ineed to stay with you,” his father disagreed, neatly dodging Meg’s attempt to grab him as Magnus yanked Nico along despite his protests, collaring the daughter of Demeter when she seemed determined to hang back with Apollo, too.  The god returned to Will’s side so fast he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d actually teleported.  Part of him wondered if Apollo just didn’t trust that he could hold the wolves off alone, but then he remembered what his father had been like during his trials, adamantly refusing to let anyone else put themselves in danger if he could help it.

He remembered hearing about Jason, and realised that maybe his dad wasn’t slighting him at all.

Will slowed down further, Apollo matching him in his periphery.  Alex hung back with them, too, but before Will could turn his glare on her – she didn’t need to hang back, too - she turned into a snake. He flinched as scales coiled around his leg, dropping another arrow, and then the smooth texture disappeared to be replaced with something small and leathery in that way tough skin had.  A glance he couldn’t really afford showed a small mole clinging to him instead.

Well, at least he wasn’t alone in case the plandidn’t work as he hoped, Will accepted in some relief. He stopped running entirely, turning back to face the corridor after one last glance at the trio still running – or rather, Magnus dragging the other two along.  There was a door immediately ahead of them, and Will hoped that was the one they were after.

Taking a deep breath, he turned his attention back the way they came, aware of his unarmed father – who was a literal god and could fend for himself, he had to remind himself – next to him, and held his bow at the ready, first arrow nocked and waiting to fly.

The first wolves rounded the corner barely half a second later, teeth bared in snarls and stained red. Will carefully didn’t let himself wonder which of the floor nineteen’s einherjar the blood belonged to. Standing his ground as the creatures advanced was nerve-wracking, every instinct in his body screaming for him to run, but he locked his muscles and refused to give in to the instinct.  Instead, he shot arrow after arrow, feeling more than hearing the golden bow sing, as he both thinned their numbers and waited for them to close in.  Next to him, he couldn’t see what Apollo was doing, but there were more wolves dropping than the number of arrows flying dictated there should be.

The closer they were, the more effective the whistle would be.  The closer they got, the more wolves would be in range.

The closer they got, the better chance they all had.

Warmth flooded through his whole body, a golden glow shimmering into existence in his periphery. It wasn’t his own doing – he wasn’t the biggest fan of turning on the light, so to speak, and had no reason to it right then anyway – although he didn’t think he’d ever be able to mistake a blessing from his father for anything else, anyway.

He’d been blessed a few times in his life, although until today it had always been during particularly intense healing sessions, but never twice in the space of an hour.

It was a quiet comfort, that Apollo was helping him out in more ways than one, but that still didn’t make it much easier to stand his ground as time slowed – not literally, thank the gods, but in the way that battles had, with all his senses working overdrive and his reflexes honed in tandem.  The first time he’d felt it had been the Battle of the Labyrinth, when he’d lost Lee.  Then it had been Manhattan, and he wondered if this was how Michael had felt, standing his ground on WilliamsburgBridge, covering everyone’s retreat as he stared death in the face.

Will could really do with his big brother’s sonic arrows right about now, but that was Michael’s speciality, not his.  All he had against this pack was his whistle, and as the first wolf got close enough to make a flying leap for him, he dropped the latest arrow he had been about to nock, put his fingers to his lips, and let the ultrasonic noise pierce through the hallway.

The effect was as effective as it was instantaneous.  The wolves dropped like flies, bloodstained snarls replaced by heaps of stunned fur and the occasional, pitiful whimper.  The lead wolf landed barely an inch short of Will’s feet, and he stumbled back before it tried to take a bite.

“That’s useful,” Alex said, human again next to him.  Will barely had a chance to notice her change of shape before she was gripping his arm and all but dragging him towards the others.  Apollo’s warm hand caught his other arm, hauling him forwards with godly strength that almost yanked Will’s shoulder out of his socket.  “Bet Magnus wishes he could do that.”  She flashed him a bloodstained grin, not too unlike that of the wolves.  Were her canines always that sharp?

“Hurry!” Nico’s voice sounded strangled with panic, and Will stumbled a little as Alex increased her pace. His boyfriend’s face was white, even compared to his usual complexion, and his grip on his sword was white-knuckled. Both he and Meg looked a hair’s breadth from abandoning their position by the door and running back towards him.

Even without looking behind him, Will knew from their reactions that there was something dangerous on their heels.  Not a wolf – too quiet for that.  Probably not one of the einherjar, either, for the same reason.

“Will!” Nico screamed, and something slammed into him, knocking him sideways into Apollo, who caught him in a tight, bruising grip.  His shoulder, already smarting from the previous collisions it had suffered, complained loudly at the contact.  Drawing his bow was going to smart.

He tried to push himself upright again and winced at the protest of his bruised shoulder but couldn’t let that stop him.  Apollo’s hold was just getting tighter but Alex wasn’t holding onto him anymore; he didn’t know what had happened to her, but he had to keep going.  His dad barely gave him a chance to find his balance again, clutching him close and half-dragging, half-carrying him towards the door.

Will wished he hadn’t, not because he didn’t appreciate the help – he did, his legs were tired and trembling from fear, adrenaline, and exhaustion – but because it gave his eyes the opportunity to wander.

The wolves were moving again, slow and unsteady but finding their way to their feet nonetheless. Numerous einherjar and girls wearing the same uniform as Carrie – other Valkyrie, no doubt – were advancing on them, slowed by the wolves in their way but picking their way around with single-minded focus and murder in their eyes.

In front of it all was Alex, swaying where she stood with a familiar javelin through her chest at a skewed angle.  Realisation crashed over Will, and he almost threw up as he realised the javelin hadn’t been aimed at her at all.

She’d pushed him out of the way.

Right behind her was Carrie, perfect ringlets in disarray and weighed down with crimson matting. If she was still mortal, there was no way it was all hers, although her Valkyrie uniform was in tatters.

Alex cursed her weakly, blood erupting from her mouth, before her mismatched eyes glanced over Will and focused on someone ahead of him.  He knew without looking that it had to be Magnus.

“Get them out,” she ordered, voice a rasp, a grin curling across her mouth even though she looked pissed.  Bloodied hands gripped the garotte tightly.  “If I wake up to Ragnarok…” she coughed, more blood spurting from between her lips, “…I’ll kill you myself.”

Will watched in horror as she turned back to face the advancing enemies, barely able to stay on her feet but refusing to go down without one last fight.

It was barely a fight. Carrie lunged forwards, dodging the garotte that slashed her way, and got her hand around the crimson-stained shaft of the javelin, yanking back until the weapon slipped out of Alex’s body with a disgusting squelch.  Faster than Alex’s injured body could react, Carrie whipped it around and the point impaled her neck.

Alex went down and didn’t get back up.

Apollo’s arms tightened around him further, if that was even possible.  Will blinked back tears that he didn’t have time for, never mind that Alex would supposedly resurrect in a few hours, and somehow missed the moment they left the hotel and landed in a flagstone courtyard.

“Shut the door!” someone, maybe Jack, shouted.  A moment later, there was the sound of something slamming closed, and then there were four of them in a heap on the flagstones.  Will was trembling, and he suspected some of the others were, too.

“Will!”  Apollo’s grip on him loosened a fraction as Nico gripped his arms tightly.  “Will, are you okay?”

No.  “Y-yeah,” he said, pulling himself the rest of the way out of his father’s hold and meeting his boyfriend’s dark, worried eyes. “I’m not hurt.”  His shoulder told him he was lying, but he ignored it. “But Alex-”

“Alex will be fine,” Magnus cut in.  He was the only one of them still on his feet, looking around agitatedly.  “She died in Valhalla, so she’ll resurrect in a few hours.”  He shook his head.  “I know it’s rough to see, but that’s just what Valhalla’s like.  She’ll be mad about it, but she’ll be fine.”

Will swallowed.  “If I hadn’t-”

“If you hadn’t stopped the wolves, we’d all have been torn to shreds before we got out,” Magnus said firmly.  “There was no way we’d have made it.  Alex knew she was the least likely one to survive all the way to Asgard.  We both knew we’d sacrifice ourselves in a heartbeat to keep you lot alive.  Actually alive, I mean, not einherjar-alive like we are.”  He held out his hand for Will to take.  “Come on.  We have the end of the world to stop.”

Will looked at his companions.  Nico was still white, but he seemed to be accepting of what Magnus was saying because he was watching Will, his focus very much on the present rather than off with the ghosts as he sometimes got.  Meg was shaking a little, fiddling with her seed pouch and sending glances towards where the door had been that looked more than a little afraid.  Apollo might have relaxed his grip slightly, but his face was ashen and he was trembling almost as much as Meg and Will.

None of them were in any sort of state to challenge a god, or two.  But what choice did they have?  The prophecy had been unusually plain on that regard:

The abused child must stand tall
Or else the nine will start to fall

They were the only unresolved lines now, Will suspected, running the whole thing through his mind rapidly.

Dead yet alive the stolen god sleeps
Where healing hands swing the sword that speaks

Those lines were simple enough; Apollo had been stolen – although admittedly on whose orders was not yet known – and kept as an einherji in Magnus’ floor.

Thought and memory separate, unite
Die once, die twice, and risk true sight

Those referenced Apollo’s self-induced amnesia, and the way he’d died twice – properly died, not einherjar-death-and-resurrection – before his powers had returned.  The riskwas almost certainly the fact that as soon as he’d returned, he’d drawn Zeus’ attention and become a potential catalyst for war.

Three to start and six to end

Arguably, there were only five of them right then, so that line wasn’t necessarily fully revealed, but it seemed obvious enough.  Maybe his earlier thought was right and Jack counted.

Mixed blood to face the one who’d rend
Like from like, turn peer to foe
Sit on back, enjoy the show

Those lines, Will realised, had been about Angrboda; mixed blood had been all of them – demigods, both Greek and Norse, as well as the simultaneously mortal and immortal Lestollo, to coin Mallory’s nickname.  He and Magnus had been the like, and all five of them had been the peers, while Apollo – as Lester – had been unaffected and forced to watch them tear each other apart alongside a clearly pleased Angrboda.

Misfired arrow shall find the mark
Buried deep inside the father’s heart

And, as he’d always known, those had been about him and Apollo.  No-one else was ever going to be shooting their father in the heart, and Will was never going to get over the sight of Lester with his own arrow in his heart, even if it had been the final, necessary, trigger to get Apollo’s memories and powers back.

Unfortunately, while the last line was almost certainly a warning that Ragnarok was waiting for them to fail, he still had no idea who the abused child was supposed to be, and how that would stop Ragnarok, let alone Zeus and an inter-pantheon war.

An inter-pantheon war that seemed to have already started, he realised as the unmistakable crack of lightning echoed through the courtyard.

Magnus was still holding out his hand, and Will grasped it, letting the einherji pull him to his feet and finally looking around at their surroundings.

The courtyard itself was empty aside from them, which was probably a good thing because none of them had been in a state to fight immediately after arriving in Asgard.

Asgard.  Arguably the Norse equivalent of Olympus, if there was such a thing.  The flagstones they stood on were gold, stone buildings surrounded them, so tall they were lost in the clouds above, and the doors were made of hammered bronze.

It simultaneously felt nothing like Olympus – no Greco-Roman architecture, no white marble – while also thrumming with the sort of godly power that Will had experienced in his dreams, and when he’d seen almost the entire pantheon united after defeating Typhon. It was, unmistakably, no place on Earth- Midgard.

Thunder rolled and lightning cracked across the sky.  Will was familiar enough with Thalia to recognise Zeus’ lightning when he saw it.

“Is it too much to hope for that father isn’t with Odin?” Apollo sighed, standing at his right shoulder. Will gave him an apologetic look.

“What do you think?” Meg was less apologetic.

“Angry god time, yay,” Magnus muttered sarcastically.  “Let’s get this over with.”

Asgard wasn’t built to human proportions, but the door on floor thirteen had spat them out close to where Zeus was throwing his temper tantrum.  Will wondered how many of the other Greek gods he’d brought with him; there was no sign of any other godly powers being used, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything.

In fact, if Zeus wasn’t alone, that hopefully meant he was just sparking off in rage, but that no actual fighting or war had started.

“Why did he have to get here first?” Apollo muttered unhappily, and Will suddenly remembered that Apollo hadn’t seen any of his godly family, barring Artemis-as-Diana briefly, since being turned to Lester.  He hadn’t seen Zeus since the king of the gods had initiated his punishment.

This was hardly the ideal family reunion, even before the presence of the Norse gods complicated things further.

The five of them reached the next courtyard over, and Will’s breath stuttered in his chest as he caught sight of the gods, some familiar and some not, staring each other down as godly power flickered over the forms of the Greeks – all of the Greeks present, and there were several – and the Norse stood strong in front of them.

One of the gods, Ares, took an impatient step forward.  All hell broke loose, but Will didn’t get a chance to notice as all of a sudden agony burst through his abdomen.

The golden bow, his father’s bow, his bow, slipped from numb fingers to clatter to the equally golden paving.  Crimson splattered the ground, a lot of it very quickly, and Will’s vision started to swirl, grey encroaching on the edges and turning everything gloomy and fuzzy.

“Will!”

Nico’s voice was shriller than Will had ever heard it before, but faint.  Muffled, as though someone had stuffed his ears with cotton wool. He blinked, trying to locate Nico, but black clothing merged with darkening vision and he couldn’t make him out. Couldn’t make anything out.

His knees screamed as they jarred against something hard and unyielding.

And then there was nothing.

Chapter 26>>>

Fandom: Trials of Apollo/Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard
Rating:Teen
Genre: Adventure, Friendship
Characters: Will Solace, Magnus Chase, Apollo, Nico di Angelo, Alex Fierro, Meg McCaffrey

Starting to wind down now.  I still hate wrapping up fics, but this chapter wasn’t too bad, at least.

Reminder that there’s now a discord server for all my fics, including this one!  If you wanna chat with me or with other readers about stuff I write (or just be social in general), hop on over and say hi!

<<<Chapter 27

MAGNUS (XXVIII)
Magnus Willingly Signs Up For Powerpoints

Odin’s choice was not a choice at all.  As soon as Magnus had heard the first option, he’d known that whatever the second one was, he would have to take it.  Forgetting about the Greeks meant forgetting about Annabeth, his favourite – and arguably only – cousin, and while it was true he’d gone most of his life without having her in it, he had absolutely no designs to lose contact with her again now they were finally on the same page.

One look at his dad, Apollo, and even the auburn-haired goddess, told him that they all thought he should take the memory wipe.  Apollo and the goddess he could understand, because he was pretty sure neither of them even knew about Annabeth, but Frey’s opinion left him feeling cold.  It was almost entirely down to his father that he’d reconnected with her in the first place, so why the change of heart now?

Meg didn’t seem to have an opinion one way or the other, which Magnus suspected he should be offended by, but in reality understood.  Despite going on a quest together, the girl hadn’t really interacted with him on a personal level.  They certainly weren’t friends.  Acquaintances, at best.  Will and Nico, on the other hand, seemed to agree with him.

Then again, they were also friends with Annabeth, and they were pretty cool, despite the mess that had been Angrboda.  Magnus knew that Alex liked them, too, even if she hadn’t said it in quite so many words, and Alex was pretty judgemental when it came down to it.

Magnus didn’t need anyone else to approve of his decision, but secretly he was quite glad that he was going to have at least two people in his corner.

“I’ll take the ambassador job,” he said bluntly.  “There’s no way I’m forgetting everything that happened on this quest.”

He heard Apollo sigh deeply next to him, but to his credit the god didn’t try and talk him out of it.

“Even if Alex Fierro does?” Odin pressed, and Magnus stiffened.  “Or will you sign her up for this dangerous position, too?  Two ambassadors isbetter than one, I suppose.”

Magnusreally wished Alex had made it to Asgard, not just because he’d been the lone einherjar amongst the other demigods, but because she hated other people making decisions for her.  If given the choice, Magnus was certain that she’d take it – it was the exact sort of risk-taking danger she revelled in, and she also got on entirely too well with Annabeth’s boyfriend – but she’d also never forgive him for making the decision for her, no matter how well he knew her.

“Alex makes her own choices,” he said.  “I’m not choosing either option for her.  You’ll have to ask her what she wants.”

Odin glared at him, and Magnus immediately felt two inches tall.  The All-Father didn’t even need to challenge him to a Flyting to have that effect, apparently.  “Are you telling me what to do?” he demanded.

Self-preservation insisted that he back down, apologise, and make a decision.  Frey and even Apollo were notably on edge, and it definitely made a nice change to have two gods undeniably on his side, but Magnus knew neither of them could actually do anything to oppose Odin – especially Apollo, given that it would likely re-incite the same war they’d just halted if he tried.

For the most part, Magnus had pretty good self-preservation instincts, or so he liked to think.  It kept him alive a few seconds longer in the hotel battles, and before that had definitely kept him alive on the streets.  He wasn’t generally one to poke a snake with a stick, but sometimes, sometimes, he did.  Besides, the better self-preservation was keeping Alex happy.

“I’m not making Alex’s decision for her,” he said firmly, and braced himself for whatever retaliation Odin had planned for his disrespect.

Odin, being the unpredictable god that he was, threw back his head and laughed.  “A wise decision!” he proclaimed.  “Very well, I shall present the choice to her shortly.  In the meantime, however, I will take your decision.  You are certain you want the dangerous job of ambassador between pantheons, and not the safety of ignorance?”

For a god whose hobby was doing weird things in order to get as much knowledge as possible, Magnus thought it was pretty rich of him to call ignorance safety.

“My cousin is the daughter of Athena,” he said stubbornly.  Apollo’s eyes flickered with recognition, and Frey sighed in resignation. “I’ll take the job.”

Odin grinned broadly. “I’m pleased to hear it!” he boomed. “Very well, I shall hear Alex’s decision, and then you shall begin your lessons on ambassadorship.”

Magnus realised he had just signed himself up for Odin’s infamous powerpoints and did his best not to wilt.  It was worth it, he told himself.  This way, he could even visit Annabeth’s beloved camp at last and see it for his own eyes.

The All-Father morphed into a raven, and took flight in the direction of Valhalla.  Magnus hoped Alex had revived already, otherwise she was going to get an unpleasant shock when she woke to find Odin in her room. Frigg, who had remained silent the entire time, offered him a small smile – one he couldn’t work out if it was supposed to be reassuring or pitiful – before turning and walking away, leaving Frey the only Norse god still in the courtyard.

“Magnus,” his father said quietly.  “That-”

“I wasn’t taking the memory wipe,” he interrupted.  “Not a chance.”

Frey sighed.  “I didn’t expect you to,” he admitted, “but I had hoped you would.  It won’t be easy, Magnus.  Your cousin is mortal; you will watch her and your other Greco-Roman friends age and die, and outlast them all.  Forgetting would have been the easier option.”

Annoyingly, Magnus could see where he was coming from.  T.J. had said something similar to him, back when he first arrived in Valhalla. Mortals and immortals weren’t designed to interact; it only ended in heartbreak.

Still, he wasn’t changing his mind.

“But for it’s worth,” Frey continued, resting his hands gently on Magnus’ shoulders.  He was no bigger on touch than he’d been before he died, but with his dad it was always different, mostly because he only saw him once in a blue moon.  Also, he reminded Magnus of Mom, of the hikes they’d taken together, of everything from before his life fell apart.  A little rush of strength ran through him, too, which didn’t hurt.  “I’m proud of you, Magnus.  I already was, but working with another pantheon is something not even gods – most gods,” he corrected himself, glancing up at Apollo, “can do.  As you saw.”

Apollo laughed hollowly. “Demigods are amazing creatures,” he said, coming up to stand next to Magnus.  He still had his arm around Will’s shoulders, and Magnus got the feeling he wasn’t going to let go of his son until he absolutely had to.  From the good-natured grimace Will gave when their fathers weren’t looking at him, the other blond was aware of that fact, and while appearing resigned was probably actually very okay about it.  He certainly still needed help standing, even though the injury itself was closed up.  “If I hadn’t spent the past six months as a mortal, thanks to my father…” He trailed off, but the implication was clear.

“Apollo,” the auburn-haired goddess said sharply.  “Don’t anger him any more than you already have.”  Magnus really wished he’d paid more attention to Annabeth’s explanation about the Greek pantheon, because he didn’t have a clue who she was.

That was something he was going to have to learn, he realised.  He could hardly be an ambassador when he only knew a handful of names, and could only put faces to a selection of those.  If Hades, Athena and Poseidon hadn’t looked so much like the offspring he knew, he wouldn’t have had a clue.

Well, okay, maybe Hades’ all-black regalia might have clued him in without his similarities to Nico.

“What’s he going to do?” Apollo retorted, sulkily.  “Make me spend another six months as a mortal?  Because that ended up so well this time.”  Despite his words, though, he’d pulled Will even closer to his side and Magnus got the feeling that he was genuinely scared of whatever Zeus had in store for him – a feeling he would have dismissed if not for that one prophecy line.  Who would ever have thought that the ‘abused child’ would be a literal god?  Come to think of it, Angrboda had said something similar about Lester, hadn’t she?

The goddess’ eyes softened slightly.  “Apollo,” she sighed.

“I’m fine, sis,” he insisted, turning away from her to face Frey as Magnus frantically tried to remember if Annabeth had said anything about Apollo’s sister.  Oh, who was he kidding, it was less of an ifand more of a what.  “Before we leave,” the god continued, “I want to thank you, Frey.”  He rubbed a hand up and down Will’s upper arm.  “Thanks for saving my son.”

“Dad-” Will started, but Nico interrupted his boyfriend to offer his own inclined head to Frey, complete with thanks in a shaking voice.

From what he knew of Nico, that seemed like a huge gesture of respect.

“It was the least I could do,” Frey replied.  “You had the far harder job, and I’m sorry I was unable to help restore the peace.”

The goddess snorted. “With our lot all on the warpath, no alf seidr would have been enough, Frey,” she said.

Magnus’ Dad grimaced in agreement.  “Let’s hope we don’t end up in that situation again, Lady Artemis.”  That was her name.  Goddess of the moon, man-hating virgin goddess who recruited girls to join her eternal hunt.  Magnus remembered now.

“I’m sure your son will do his best to prevent it.”  Her eyes, silver like the full moon, focused on him, and he tensed.  “I will be interested to see how well he manages.”  That wasn’t at all ominous.

Apollo poked her in the side.  “Don’t scare him, Arty,” he scolded.  “He’s a good kid.”  His twin glared at him, which went ignored.  Magnus supposed that was a sibling thing, although it would never not be weird seeing immortal beings acting human.  “Unfortunately, we should be going now.”  Apollo didn’t sound pleased about that in the slightest. “If Alex takes the ambassador position… ask her to come see me?  I want to thank her for her help.”

“And to come see us,” Will chipped in.  He was still pale, and Magnus was aware that while he and his dad had healed the physical wound, the mental impact of his near-death and probably the entire shit show that had been their quest was still taking its toll on the son of Apollo. “I’d really like to replace that last memory of her with something a little less fatal.  Even if she doesn’t, come visit soon.  I’d love to compare healing techniques with you when we’re not fighting for our lives.”

Magnus nodded, already looking forwards to that.  He got on with the einherjar just fine – well, those his own age, anyway – but being the only healer in a group of warrior-minded individuals did leave him a little out on the edge, sometimes.

“Will do,” he agreed. “I’ll come visit as soon as Odin’s done with his ‘training’.”  He really hoped the powerpoints wouldn’t be too long and arduous, although he was pretty sure that was a hope in vain.  “Alex or no Alex.”

Will smiled at him. “See you soon, then.”  He nudged Nico, who rolled his eyes.

“What he said.”

“Nico.”

“Will.”

Apollo chuckled at the pair of them, and turned to Meg, who was lurking on the edge.  “Going to say goodbye, Meg?”

She shrugged. “Why?  I’ll see him soon, apparently.”

“If you’re sure.” Apollo let the silence hang meaningfully for a few moments, but the girl didn’t say anything more.  Magnus wasn’t particularly surprised, and nor, from the fond look on his face, was Apollo.  “Well then,” the god said after the silence began to stretch.  “We should probably go before we start another war. Don’t be a stranger.”

The smile he gave was genuine, and stayed on his face as he started to glow golden.  Beside him, Artemis’s form shimmered silver.

Frey’s hand clamped over his eyes suddenly.

“Don’t look,” his dad warned.  Even through his hand, the light reached blinding levels, before suddenly they vanished, plunging Magnus’ vision into darkness.  A heartbeat later, Frey moved his hand.  “The Greco-Roman gods’ true forms will immolate anyone who sees them,” his father explained.  “If you’re going to be interacting with them regularly, you need to remember to close your eyes if they ever start glowing like that.”

“Right,” Magnus muttered. “Noted.”  The courtyard was empty of everyone except them, now.  “I guess that’s my cue to go back to Valhalla?”

Frey gave him a sad smile. “I suppose so,” he agreed.  “Come, I’ll walk you to the door.”

“Did they really forget to say goodbye to me?” Jack asked suddenly, making Magnus jump.  The sword had been silent since Frey had joined him in healing Will, even going as far as to return to pendant form after a few moments rather than give Frey so much as the time of day.  “The cheek of it!  I had a message for Riptide, too.”

Magnus winced.  “We’ll see them soon,” he promised his sword. “Maybe we’ll even see Riptide so you can pass on the message in person.”

“Humph,” Jack sulked. “I’ve half a mind to ignore them next time, see how they like it.”  Magnus decided not to point out that if he hadn’t disappeared back into a pendant, they might have remembered to say goodbye to him, too.

“Why didn’t you take much energy when you reverted?” he asked instead.  Thanks to Frey giving him a burst of energy or few, he wasn’t entirely dead on his feet, but he suspected that he was going to need a nap sooner rather than later.

“I didn’t get to domuch,” Jack complained.  “None of us did, well, except for him.”

Magnus shouldn’t ask, he knew it, but, “us?  Him?”

“Us weapons,” Jack said, as though he was stupid.  “Or did you not notice the lack of arrows?  The lack of swordplay?  Stygian was the only one that got any exercise!”

They reached the door to Valhalla – the front door, which looked identical to the front door in Midgard, although as Valhalla was actually inAsgard,this was probably the actual front door, and Magnus was going to stop thinking about that before he gave himself a headache.

“Well,” Frey said, “this is goodbye for the moment.”  He smiled at Magnus.  “Try not to get obliterated by the Olympians.”

What exactly could he say to that?  “I’ll do my best, Dad,” he muttered, letting the god pull him in for a quick hug. “See you around?”

“Of course,” Frey promised. “You know where to find me.”

Alfheim was not high on Magnus’ list of worlds to visit, but he nodded anyway.

There was no point hanging around.  He stepped forwards, the wolf-emblazoned doors soundlessly opening to admit him, and with only a single glance back at his dad, who offered a wave, he returned to the halls of Valhalla.

The daily battle had to still be ongoing, because the hallways were deserted.  The elevator arrived immediately, almost mockingly fast compared to the last time he’d tried to call it, and he and Jack were alone with the repetitive drone of Norwegian Frank Sinatra as they travelled up to floor nineteen.

Alex was waiting for him outside her door.  She’d changed from her quest outfit into a green and pink tartan miniskirt, striped knee-high socks of the same colours, and a hot pink spaghetti-strap top, complete with plaid green neckerchief.

“I hear we’re Odin’s new Greco-Norse ambassadors,” she commented.  “I take it that means all gods are back where they belong?” Alex raised an eyebrow.  “Please tell me that bitch got what was coming to her.”

“We are,” Magnus sighed, unsurprised that she’d taken the same decision he had, before giving her the brief run-down of Asgardian events.  “Will got kebabbed, but Dad was there to help while Apollo yelled at both pantheons.” And hadn’t that been a sight, Apollo still in Lester’s wrecked, blood-stained Hotel Valhalla t-shirt going head-to-head with both pantheon rulers simultaneously.  Magnus hadn’t envied him that in the slightest.  “Turns out it was your mom orchestrating it all, and Carrie was working for him because she wanted to, so as appeasement, Carrie got handed over to Zeus to do whatever he wanted with.”

“Please tell me he made her death slow and painful.”  Alex joined him as he walked past her room, making a beeline for his own.

“She disappeared in a ball of lightning, so I think he zapped her back to Olympus,” Magnus told her. He glanced around at all the closed doors.  “The others still resurrecting?”

“Yup,” she said.  “I would have joined the battle, but it’s not the same without you to watch die.”

“Thanks,” he said dryly, reaching his own room and shutting the door.  “I’m gonna go crash out for a bit.  Try not to get too bored without me.”

She scoffed.  “Magnus, you are not my only method of entertainment, even if you’re usually the most amusing.”  He received a shove in the back that sent him stumbling forwards into his bedroom.  “Go and get your beauty sleep.  I’ll interrogate you for the rest of the details later.  I’m sure the others want to hear all about it, anyway.”

He groaned, remembering that Halfborn had apparently figured out about the Greek pantheon being real and would no doubt be after the full explanation, and gladly faceplanted his bed.

After a few days sleeping under bridges and in Jotunheim, his bed was heavenly.  “Wake me up never,” he told Alex, or rather the pillow.

The last thing he heard before sleep claimed him was Alex’s amused laughter.

Chapter 29>>>

Fandom: Trials of Apollo/Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard
Rating:Teen
Genre: Adventure, Friendship
Characters: Will Solace, Magnus Chase, Apollo, Nico di Angelo, Alex Fierro, Meg McCaffrey

And we return to regularly scheduled posting!  There shouldn’t be any more disruptions between now and the end of the fic, you’ll hopefully be pleased to hear.  This chapter has been a Long time coming, and not just because of the brief pause in updates.  It’s not the longest, but it’s a big one regardless.  And it’s a pov I know people have been waiting for!

Reminder that there’s now a discord server for all my fics, including this one!  If you wanna chat with me or with other readers about stuff I write (or just be social in general), hop on over and say hi!

<<<Chapter 25

APOLLO (XXVI)
Olympian Family Reunion, AKA Drama Time

No! Apollo’s mind screamed, at a volume to rival Nico’s vocalised scream, as Will collapsed to the ground.  There was a spear running straight through his son’s abdomen, and Apollo’s medical mind inconveniently immediately rattled off all the delicate organs and other things vital to living that would have been damaged by the weapon now impaling the unconscious teen.

It was a familiar weapon, one he’d seen a thousand times before.  His half-brother had an ever-growing collection of the things, and while that had never been Apollo’s cup of nectar, it had never particularly bothered him before.  Seeing one of Ares’ spears stuck through his son as though he was a kebab, however, did more than botherApollo.

Itinfuriatedhim.

His first emotion, when he’d seen the gods at a stand-off – before the spear exploded towards them faster than any of them, Apollo included, could react – had been an uncomfortable mix of delight and apprehension.

They were all there. Zeus, of course, was a given, and also the biggest issue, but he’d been far from alone.  Artemis, his beloved sister and, according to Will, the one who had sent out the most searches for him – including the three that had found him – looked older than usual, seventeen or so compared to her favourite twelve, but was as always unmistakeable.  Poseidon and, to Apollo’s complete amazement, Hades, flanked their younger brother, the Big Three united, while two of their sisters stood at the back. Apollo hadn’t expected any of his aunts and uncles to be there, but certainly not the goddesses; Hera hated him – a mutual feeling – while Demeter preferred to avoid conflict. Athena and Ares stood on the outermost flanks, the god and goddess of war in their element as it loomed.  Hephaestus, Hermes and even Dionysus lingered back with the elder goddesses and Aphrodite, tense and ready for action.  Hestia, as always, was the only one missing.  The hearth waiting for them to come home, once everything was over.

The fact that they had all been there for him, regardless of the nuances behind that decision, had hit Apollo hard, sending his emotions haywire as he tried to work out what he was supposed to be feeling at the sight of them.

Then Ares had moved, the two pantheons had collided in a burst of energy that was still just posturing rather than war (thank Olympus), somehow one of his half-brother’s spears had ended up in his son, and all the emotional confusion their presence had brought melted away until only two emotions remained.

Fear and rage.

“Will, don’t you dare.” Nico was on his knees, clinging to his boyfriend tightly as though he had the power to keep him alive through sheer stubbornness.  Technically, Apollo supposed he did.  “Don’t you dare.”

Apollo didn’t remember falling to his knees next to his son, his dying son, but he was down there, too, and his hands were pressing on the wound, trying to stem the blood as he drew on his powers of healing.  His wrists twinged warningly, as they did whenever he used his powers, but Apollo ignored them; despite what he’d told the demigods, they weren’t powerful enough to actually affect his abilities.  The issue with them was something else entirely.

Other hands joined his, glowing golden, and he looked up to see Magnus next to him, grey eyes hardened in determination.

“I’ve got this,” the Norse healer said.  “Go. Stop them.”

He should.  Apollo knew that.

Apollo also knew that he had lost too many children in the past three years.  None of his children had sided with Kronos, but while that was a source of pride and comfort that they did, at least, love him more than they hated him, it had meant that they had been one of the largest cabins going into battle, ending up on the front lines despite not being front line fighters through sheer, cruel necessity.

Will was not going to be joining his fallen siblings, not today.  The quarrelling – warring – gods could wait until he was sure his son would live.  And he wouldlive.  There was too much Apollo still had to say to his son, too many cracks that had yawned into chasms during the quest that he’d yet to do more than weakly paper over that he needed to address properly.  Too much that he’d put off, because there was an apocalypse at stake and it wasn’t going to wait politely for him to give Will everything his son needed from him, everything Apollo wanted to give his selfless – too selfless - child.

Willcould not dietoday.

“Apollo.”  Nico’s face was tearstained, and Apollo knew that the son of Hades could feel the life threatening to leave Will’s body just the same as he could. Nico, however, could do little more than frantically tether his soul – healingwas beyond his powers.

Small hands on Apollo’s shoulders announced Meg’s presence.

“Go,” Meg said firmly in his ear, leaning in close enough that her breath tickled his skin.  “You need to stop this.”

“Will-”

“Magnus is on it,” Nico told him, although the son of Hades was shaking as he ran his fingers through blond hair.  “We won’t let him die.  You have to do this, Apollo.  You’re the only one who can.”

He was right, as much as Apollo was at loath to admit it.  Any of the demigods would be torn to shreds if they even tried to get closer to the arguing gods; as it was, they were close enough that any moment they could end up in the same state as Will, whose body he could feelknitting back together again beneath his and Magnus’ ministrations.  Outside of Valhalla, even Magnus would die for good.

Enough demigods had died at the whims of the gods.  Enough demigods had died for Apollo.

Determination, fuelled by rage – both at himself and his brethren – flooded through him, and he let out a measured breath before pulling back his bloodstained hands. Immediately, Magnus’ shifted to cover where his had been, still glowing brightly gold.

Apollo tore his eyes away from the limp and bloodied body of his son and pushed himself to his feet, turning away from the tangle of demigods and facing down the carnage that was the battling pantheons.

“Shouldn’t you take the bow?” Nico asked as he started to take a step forward.  “You’re weaponless.”  Apollo paused and looked down at the weapon, gold against the golden paving and splattered with crimson droplets.  The bow he’d stored Apollo in, out of Odin’s power but close enough to Lester to trickle in behind the seal he’d placed on his heart when necessary, and explode back where it belonged once his own power shattered it. The bow he’d then given to his son – to keep him safe, to protect his amazing, kind-hearted healer of a son who should never be asked to take a life but the Fates clearly had other plans for him – stained by the blood of the very same teen it was supposed to protect.

Breaking up an inter-pantheon conflict without a weapon for protection sounded like madness, but he didn’t reach for the bow.  It was Will’s now – for all the good it had done his son so far.  Apollo’s journey with that weapon was over; he had willingly gifted it away and he wouldn’t take it back.  Not now, and not ever.

“Adding another weapon to the mix won’t stop anything,” he said out loud.  “Stay back, and stay safe.”

Without looking back, he started walking.  One foot in front of the other, fear bubbling under the surface as he realised what he was about to do but tempered by the determination to protect those four lives behind him, and stop this.

He didn’t have a weapon, but really, that didn’t mean that he was helpless.  Instead, Apollo let the fear, the rage, the determination, swell up. He saw Will, skewered by his own uncle’s weapon as a thoughtless piece of collateral damage.  He saw Alex, refusing to back down and buying them every last second she could.  He saw the rest of floor nineteen, staying behind with grins on their faces to hold back an impossible stampede.  He saw Jason, heard the dying voice yelling for him to REMEMBER.

Remember what it was like to be human.  Remember what it was like to be the sacrificial heroes, fated to die like thrown-away toys of the gods.

He let it all bubble up, just like the tunnel, when he’d battled Commodus for the last time, and then let it all out in a single-note scream.

No arrow would break up this battle.  No golden light would be enough to distract the single-minded gods.  No shouting and waving would get their attention, except maybe as a target to hit.

The scream crashed into the gods like a physical force, knocking some of the slighter ones back and stunning the rest into stopping in their tracks.  They weren’t weak enough to be destroyed, not like Commodus, but while Apollo was no Big Three, there was always a reason Zeus came down harsher on him than most of the rest.  There was a reason it had taken six months to strip him down to total mortality, six months that still remained a gap in his memories, despite the restoration of everything else.

Hands balled into fists, trembling slightly from the flood of emotion, Apollo stalked forwards into the midst of frozen gods, feeling their eyes laser in on him.  He didn’t acknowledge any of them until he was right in the centre, the sun he’d been ever since Helios had faded.  Not Zeus’ blazing fury, not Athena’s scrutinising look, not even Artemis’ relief.

He stopped exactly between the two sides, took a deep breath, and said one word.  “Enough.”

For a blessed moment, silence reigned.

Then the shouting began.

Somehow, Apollo had forgotten just how loud his brethren could be, although the addition of the various Norse deities – most of which he couldn’t name – really wasn’t helping the noise levels.  He glanced across to where the demigods were huddled at the edge of the courtyard, and blinked when he realised they weren’t alone.

Magnus, his glow weak and his body no better, had been joined by an older man with the same blond hair and aura.  Jack was pointedly hovering the other side of Magnus, although not touching him, which was interesting considering the man was one of the few Norse gods Apollo knew by name – and last he’d seen Frey, he and the sword had been nigh on inseparable.  Inconveniently so.

If it was any other god, from either pantheon, Apollo would have stormed straight back over and dragged him as far away from his son as possible.  It was tempting to do that anyway, but he forced himself to think rationally.  Frey was the Norse god of peace; he wouldn’t do anything to risk aggravating the situation further.  He was also, like his son, a healer.

Besides, Nico was there, and like all the current Greek children of the Big Three, Nico had noqualms about telling gods to shove it.  Combined with his love for Will, there was no way the son of Hades would hesitate the instant Frey did anything that wasn’t directly helping.  Apollo’s son was in the best possible hands outside of his own.

The thought calmed him some, for all that it chafed that he couldn’t be the one saving his son’s life, and he reluctantly let his attention return to the gods all yelling at him. Zeus looked almost apoplectic, and storm clouds were gathering above them, blotting out the sun.

That was not a metaphor Apollo was particularly keen on at the best of times.  Right now, he hatedit.

“I said enough!” he roared.  The gods all quietened, probably more out of shocked offence than obedience, and Apollo seized his chance before they worked themselves back up again.  “Do you want another war?” he demanded of his own brethren, avoiding looking directly at Zeus, “so soon after the lasttwo?”

“Why not?” Ares shrugged. Apollo rounded on him, feeling his power flare up.

“Your spear is currently in my son,” he growled.  “I suggest you keep your mouth shut.”  The god of war scowled, but Aphrodite appeared next to him, a hand on his arm, and he kept whatever retort he had to himself.

Zeus, on the other hand, had no such restraint.  “Do not speak to your brother like that,” he ordered.  “Odin has reached beyond his territory, even now his taint is on Olympus, and that is an insult that cannot be let pass.”  He stepped forwards, towering over Apollo despite not being that much taller.

He didn’t need to be.

“A father who terrifies you,” Angrboda had said.  She hadn’t been wrong, for all that Apollo tried in vain to pretend that he wasn’t scared of Zeus.  He didn’t stand up to him because Zeus was the king, not because he was afraid of what would happen if he did… Except he was, and that was a lie he’d told himself over and over again, hoping that if he said it enough, it’d become the truth.  As though the god of truth could make a lie come true.

The last time he’d displeased Zeus, a minor infraction brought about by flattery, and something inconvenientcoming out of Rachel as though Apollo had any control over the timing of prophecies, his punishment had been the worst one to date. This was the first time he’d seen his father in person since then, and the urge to apologise, step back, and let his father do as he wanted, again, rather than risk another punishment bubbled up temptingly.

He turned away, and faced the god standing opposite Zeus instead.  He’d never met Odin in person, but the power rolling from the one-eyed god matched the magic in the runes on his wrists perfectly, leaving his identity unmistakable.

“If you carry on fighting, Ragnarok will start,” he told him.  “This war isn’t worth it.”

Odin’s fingers tightened around his spear, and when he spoke, his voice rolled over Apollo as heavily as Zeus’.  “I am not the aggressor here, boy,” he said.  “If you want to prevent this war, I am the wrong person to appeal to.”  His one visible eye flashed with rage.  “I have half a mind to strike you down where you stand for infiltrating my halls.”

“Touch him, and die,” Zeus snarled.  Apollo wished that was because his father cared about him, but he knew better than that. It was all about Zeus – Zeus’ authority being undermined, his territory being advanced upon.  Apollo was just a convenient god-shaped representation of all of that – Zeus’ property, not his son.

Apollo’s eyes found his own son again, still limp but no longer on Nico’s lap.  Magnus was barely conscious next to him, leaning heavily against his own father and no longer glowing while Frey continued to work. Movement next to them snatched his attention, and his eyes widened at the sight of Meg and Nico, wrestling with a bloodstained girl with ringlets and a tattered Valkyrie uniform.

Of course, Carrie was a Valkyrie.  Travelling to Asgard was well within her powers.

Nico had his sword out, parrying every blow Carrie made, while Meg danced around them both, calling up plants in an attempt to snare the daughter of Loki.  Despite the state she was in, Carrie seemed determined to take at least one of them down with her, and Apollo remembered what she’d said earlier. Neither Hades or Demeter would sit by idly if their child was killed on Norse ground.

By pure chance, Meg caught his eye.  Meg, who had stood up to Nero when it mattered the most, who had faced her personal demon, her abuser, and claimed her own life back.  Meg, who had the strength Apollo lacked.  Meg, who in a single look reminded him that no matter what, she believed in him.

Apollo couldn’t let her down.  Couldn’t let down any of the demigods that had got him this far.

And Odin’s words had given him the last piece of the puzzle.

“Enough,” he said, again, turning back around to glare at his father.  “Odin will not smite me, and you will not use me as an excuse to wage war.”

“Apo-”

“You sound very confident of that,” Odin said, overriding Zeus’ furious response.  Apollo was glad for that, because it meant no-one else had noticed him flinch at his father’s tone.  Hopefully.  “Explain.”

“You won’t smite me, because if you do, Loki wins,” Apollo declared, facing the Norse All-Father again. The Norse gods shifted, murmuring amongst themselves.  “I didn’t enter Valhalla of my own choice; I was brought there, stolen, if you will, by a Valkyrie.”

“One of myValkyrie?” Odin raised his visible eyebrow, but the rage in his eye didn’t abate in the slightest.  “You were not brought to Valhalla on my orders.”

“I know.”  The moment Odin had called him an infiltrator, the question about which god was responsible had been answered.  “The Valkyrie in question was her.”  He pointed to the fighting demigods, and sensed Hades and Demeter both stiffen at the sight of their children caught up in battle against a shape-shifting menace.

Even if she was mortal, and seriously injured, Carrie was still a Valkyrie.  With Nico on the defensive, protecting Will, and Meg without her scimitars, it was an even fight.

“Carrie,” Odin rumbled.

“Daughter of Loki,” Apollo confirmed.  “She captured me on his orders, not yours.”  He stepped forwards, holding out his rune-marked wrists.  They were still throbbing warningly, protesting against his usage of his power even though they couldn’t stop it.  “Remove these, and set me free.”

Behind him, Zeus sucked in an indignant breath as he saw the runes.  From his earlier words, Apollo suspected the same runes had sunk into his throne on Olympus.

“Father,” Athena said quietly.  She’d come up next to Zeus, the favourite daughter and advisor.  Her words were enough, for the moment, to silence the king of the gods, but Apollo knew it wouldn’t last.

He met Odin’s eye squarely, refusing to back down.  Silver glistened in his periphery, and he knew without looking that his twin had come to stand beside him.

Odin regarded him for several moments.  “You’re impertinent,” he said.

“I’m right,” Apollo retorted, “and you know it.”  Odin, All-Father, seeker of knowledge, god of poetry and divination.  In many aspects, they were each other’s counterpart.  All Zeus and Odin had in common was their position as the ruler of their pantheon, but Odin and Apollo?

Not equals, perhaps, but there was something between them.  Understanding.

“As I said,” Odin replied. “Impertinent.”

He reached out with one hand, and clasped Apollo’s right wrist, exactly over the rune.  His magic burned as it activated, searing pain forcing its way through the rune, and with a choked cry, Apollo sank to his knees.

Zeus’ fragile hold on his temper broke, and lightning crashed down.

Chapter 27>>>