Hotel Valhalla [Magnus Chase Series]

First Flight Of A Valkyrie

Diary Entries

[Name withheld to protect author’s privacy]

Day One:
  I’m a Valkyrie. Man, even after writing it down, it doesn’t seem possible!
  But it’s true. I’m an honest-to-goodness Chooser of the Slain, a handmaiden of Odin! One minute, I’m walking down the street. The next, this fierce- looking, helmet-wearing,spear- carrying woman on a flying horse appears in the sky above me.
  She swoops down and holds out her hand. “I am Gunilla, captain of the Valkyries,” she says, all serious and imposing.“You have been chosen by Odin to select and care for fallen heroes in the afterlife, where they will ceaselessly train for Ragnarok, the doomsday battle of the gods against the giants. Do you accept?”
  I’d never even heard of Odin or any of those other things, but refusing didn’t seem like an option. So here I am in the lobby of Hotel Valhalla with other new recruits, waiting to find out what happens next.

Day Two:
  Exhausted. More tomorrow.

Day Five:
  Sorry not to have written for a few days. Here’s a quick recap of what I’ve been doing:

• Toured all 540 floors of Hotel Valhalla. Flirted with some good-looking guys on the lower levels.

• Endured a lecture on the Nine Worlds given by some fossilized thane
named Snorti. (Might be Snorri? So boring, I almost started snorri-ing….)

• Had it drilled into my head that we bring back only the immortal essence (i.e., the souls) and leave the bodies of the fallen behind.

• Got fitted for my Valkyrie uniform: helmet, chain-mail tunic, leggings, boots, sword. (Not to brag, but I look smokin’ hot as a Viking warrior.)

• Waited on tables in the Feast Hall of the Slain. Einherjar—the proper
name of the dead heroes who live (live?) in Valhalla—eat and drink a lot.

• Magically returned to Midgard (the human realm, according to Snorti)
every dawn to live the days as a normal teenager.
  I’m due back in Midgard in a few hours. Gotta grab some sleep before
then, so good night.

PS: Just remembered all the good-looking guys here are dead. Bummer.

Day Nine:
  Best. Day. Ever!
It started with Gunilla summoning us newbies from Midgard.
  I was at school,heading to math class, so I veered into the restroom and climbed out the window.
  There was a whoosh, and suddenly I was back at the hotel.
  Don’t ask me how. I have no clue.
  We gathered in the Feast Hall. It was hours before dinner, so the place was deserted.
  Gunilla started talking. “Take a look at the trainees next to you. And know this: One will perish in the line of duty. Just because you can travel to and from this afterlife doesn’t
mean you’re invincible. You can be killed. Die honorably, and your memory will live on forever. Die dishonorably, and you will be forgotten.”
  I was thinking, Okay, might have been nice to know this before I signed up, when a bunch of veteran Valkyries came in.
  One approached me,
introduced herself as Margaret, and said, “You’re going to love what comes next.”
  Before I could ask what she meant, Gunilla called out, “Flight attendants,
prepare for takeoff.”
  Margaret grabbed my arm and said, “Don’t look down.” Then she shot
straight up into the air!

  Here’s the good part: I went with her! I. Was. Flying!
  Okay, sure,technically, I didn’t fly. Margaret did, with me Velcroed to her for dear life. But oh my Odin, it was still amazing.
  Tomorrow, I get to try it myself. It’s going to be awesome!

Day Ten:

Hour one:
  Took off. Crashed into Laeradr (stupid tree).

  Took off. Fell onto the thanes’ table.

  Took off. Crashed into Laeradr and then fell onto the thanes’ table. An unbelievably fat tree-dwelling goat landed on top of me.

Hour three:
  Reenacted the Wright Brothers’ first flight at Kitty Hawk.
  That is, got airborne for less than a minute before inevitably crashing (into Laeradr yet again).

Hour six:
  Longer flight. Landed on my feet! (I immediately fell on my
face, but still…result!)

Hour nine:
  Actual swooping and soaring occurred! Sound the horn of triumph, people! I am a Valkyrie!

Day Eleven:
  Turns out I have to learn how to fly on a horse made of mist, too.
  Flying solo with fallen heroes doesn’t work so well; apparently they tend to squirm, which causes turbulence.

Lessons start tomorrow.

Square one, here I come.