We're back in the Wendigo Inn before I can even say, "Click my heels three times."
BOOM.
ZAP.
BANG.
We're on the roof, which has been cleaned of dragonfire overnight, and an impatient wyvern glares at me, its wingspan as long as a semi truck. I look at the blue dragon with a hint of impatience. "I'd love to see what you have for sale, but not now."
He huffs smoke in my face. "I flew all the way here and cut short a meeting with Gwynn ap Nudd—just to be ignored?"
I give my best customer service smile. "I can't give you my full attention when there's a fire down below. You're a dragon. You know that if you don't put out fires, they just grow."
He snorts smoke. I hope it isn't poison. According to mythology, wyverns are venomous. This one doesn't look like I need the Poison Control Center. He seems more annoyed than anything else, thumping his tail against the newly repaired rooftop.
"These deals I have are hot," he huffs. "You won't get finer artifacts anywhere. For centuries, my family has been the premier supplier of magical artifacts to gods and goddesses. Where do you think Fuxi gets all of his treasures? If Sun Wukong ever wanted to give up his staff, I could—"
"I'm sure you could sell hot chili peppers to one of your fellow wyverns, but I really have to be going now. Don't go away."
Daji restrains me, and I can feel her annoyance thrumming through the bond. "Am I invisible? Did I suddenly disappear?"
She could. Knowing this wacky place, she very well could, at any moment. "Daji, I don't—"
"FINE. I'm sure he'll come back."
And I hear "never" somewhere in that sentence. It takes a moment for the penny to drop, but it crashes down when it does.
"Daji, you know the collection. Will you see what this gentleman has that would be of interest? I trust you. You can make purchases for the hotel. All good?"
Her eyes widen, and she nods slowly.
"Awesome. I'll scold your nephew for you." I rush downstairs to the top floor …
And promptly dive to the floor as crackling lightning bolts from two directions whiz past me and Sun Wukong's staff goes CRACK like a baseball bat. Meanwhile, another macaque I don't know gives a monkey battle cry. Erlang, I presume. And he and Wukong have teamed up? Is that good or bad? As in, will I need a new top floor when this little battle is over?
"Use your trident, Erlang," Wukong shouts over the crashing and crackling of thunderbolts.
Odin's voice rings out as if he's standing in the halls of Valhalla holding up a goblet of mead and giving his battle-boast to impress his court. "Loki, go get Sleipnir."
"Sleipnir is asleep, Father," Loki says in a bored-goth voice.
"Lazy horse! Go rouse him," Odin orders.
Erlang laughs, and I hear his three-pronged spear whir like a buzzsaw as he spins it through the air. "A horse, freak lightning and thunder, and a hammer that looks like you use it to smash giant watermelons. This is not the Twilight of the Gods, it's the Embarrassment of the Gods. No one would be afraid of Odin, Thor, and Loki now!
"All of you, stop this," I bellow.
They pause for a moment, and I rise up, risking incoming fire.
On one side is Odin in his business suit and his helmet, standing beside Thor and Loki. Loki's slick smile contrasts with his earlier bored tone.
On the other side is Sun Wukong, staff extended, and Erlang, with a golden hat that has three peaks and is decorated with flying phoenixes. He wears a sulphur-yellow robe, and boots lined with gold cloth as well as dragon-patterned socks. Eight jewels are set in his jade belt. He brandishes an axe, bow, and the Three-Pointed Double-Edged Spear. He wears a necklace with phoenix feathers on it. Probably from shooting them. He definitely has that big game hunter look, and a noble, refined air. Too bad his ears hang down to his shoulders like an elephant's. I like elephants, though.
"Oh, Merciful and Miraculous Sage of the red city, Erlang, whose transformations were numberless," I call out. "Please take your battle elsewhere."
He considers, his eyes narrow.
"I thought you and the Handsome Monkey weren't exactly friends," I continue.
He jabs his spear at Loki, gouging his arm. "Macaques stick together."
"Naturally. And Thor, what did we say about dueling in the hall?"
Thor rubs his big nose. "It's not as if it's quiet hours. Besides, nobody is getting hurt."
I shake my head in disbelief. "That's not the point. I just told you all about this yesterday. Odin, what are you doing?"
He glares at me, and I notice the crystal eye in his face. He may have been "One-Eye" before, but now he's gotten some upgrades. "These upstarts challenged us."
"I read my grandparents' rules. 'NO DUELING OUTSIDE OF THE GYM AREA,'" I say, making it up. "Did you think that just because I was slow to catch on that you could do whatever you wanted?"
Shock etches itself on Odin's face. "You…you read the rules?"
How did I know they had rules about the gods?
Oh, wait. It was in the owner's manual.
* Do not attempt to use your powers to gain an unfair advantage over other guests.
* Report any issues or concerns promptly to the inn's management.
* Treat the inn's property and facilities with respect and use them only for their intended purpose.
* Respect the curfews and Quiet Hours established by the inn's management.
* NO DUELING OUTSIDE OF THE GYM AREA.
* No using your powers to harass or invade the privacy of other guests.
I quote these rules to Odin, who nods approvingly.
Unfortunately, neither of his sons have listened, including Loki, known for his intelligence and strategic thinking. Loki is making several decoys for Erlang Shen to hit with his three-pronged spear, while Thor uses Mjollnir to try and batter Wukong. However, even an Asgardian muscle man is no match for a quick and nimble monkey who has learned multiple mystical arts.
"it's like Marvel's Thor trying to hit Doctor Strange with his hammer," I yell. "if Doctor Strange was a monkey."
Loki snorts. "My brother is way handsomer than the two-bit pretty boy they picked to play him. Although I like the actor they found for me. He was in televised productions of Shakespeare, if I remember."
"BBC. 'The Hollow Crown,'" I say. "We'll have to add that to our movie night."
Loki rolls his eyes. "Those are pathetic. Where are the rom-coms?"
Loki, the trickster, likes rom-coms? Who knew?
"And for the record," he says. "That scene in 'The Avengers' where Loki threatens the people of Germany and the old German confronts him, saying he's known tyrants…I would never try to rule a country that had already suffered under dictators. Those populations are especially resistant. Somebody didn't think that one through."
I smile, impressed by Loki's astuteness. "You should write for the Marvel movies."
"I have helped with Athena's scripts," he admits. "You people have lost something when it comes to entertainment. Like the art of stories."
Our impromptu film critic session seems to have calmed things down, and Odin orders his sons to stand down. "Thor, never try to hit a moving target, that's how you hurt yourself last time. Mr. Thomas is right. We got swept away, but it's time to follow the rules."
But Thor has already smacked Sun Wukong on the shoulder and the monkey squeaks. The crunch of bone makes me shudder. Sun Wukong falls to the floor, spread-eagled, lying stunned, his breathing shallow.
Even though we're immortal, Daji is going to kill us both.