#mcga jack

“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 is better than one, I suppose.”

Magnus really 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 if and 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 do much,” 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 in Asgard, 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.