Solaris

3

‘I still don’t get where I am. If you guys have been here since 749, that’s over a thousand years.’

‘Don’t remind me,’ Sulien grumbled.

‘But that’s impossible. And … and you said I’m dead? I don’t feel dead. I feel fine.’

‘Sir,’ Solaris said, ‘all this will be explained tonight at dinner. That’s when new guests are formally welcomed.’

‘Valhalla.’ The word surfaced from the depths of my brain – a half-remembered story my mom had read me when I was little. ‘The HV on your lapel. The V stands for Valhalla?’

Solaris’s eyes made it clear I was straining his patience. ‘Yes, sir. The Hotel Valhalla. Congratulations. You’ve been chosen to join the hosts of Odin. I look forward to hearing about your brave exploits at dinner.’

My legs buckled. I leaned on the desk for support. I’d been trying to convince myself this was all a mistake – some elaborate theme hotel where I’d been mistaken for a guest. Now I wasn’t so sure.

‘Dead,’ I mumbled. ‘You mean I’m actually … I’m actually –’

‘Here is your room key.’ Solaris handed me a stone engraved with a single Viking rune, like the stones in Uncle Randolph’s library. ‘Would you like the minibar key?’

‘Uh –’

‘He wants the minibar key,’ Sulien answered for me. ‘Kid, you want the minibar key. It’s going to be a long stay.’

My mouth tasted like copper. ‘How long?’

‘Forever,’ Solaris said, ‘or at least until Ragnarok. Sulien will now show you to your room. Enjoy your afterlife. Next!’

My Room Does Not Suck

I wasn’t paying the closest attention as Sulien guided me through the hotel. I felt as if I’d been spun around fifty times then released into the middle of a circus and told to have fun.

Each hall we walked through seemed bigger than the one before. Most of the hotel guests looked like they were in high school, though some looked slightly older. Guys and girls sat together in small groups, lounging in front of fireplaces, chatting in many different languages, eating snacks or playing board games like chess and Scrabble and something that involved real daggers and a blowtorch. Peeking into side lounges, I spotted pool tables, pinball machines, an old-fashioned video arcade and something that looked like an iron maiden from a t*****e chamber.

Staff members in dark green shirts moved among the guests, bringing platters of food and pitchers of drink. As far as I could tell, all the servers were buff female warriors with shields on their backs and swords or axes on their belts, which is not something you see a lot in the service industry.

One heavily armed waitress passed me with a steaming plate of spring rolls. My stomach rumbled.

‘How can I be hungry if I’m dead?’ I asked Sulien. ‘None of these people look dead.’

Sulien shrugged. ‘Well, there’s dead and then there’s dead. Think of Valhalla more like … an upgrade. You’re one of the einherjar now.’

He pronounced the word like in-HAIR-yar.

‘Einherjar,’ I repeated. ‘Just rolls right off the tongue.’

‘Yeah. Singular: einherji.’ He said it like in-HAIR-yee. ‘We’re the chosen of Odin, soldiers in his eternal army. The word einherjar is usually translated as lone warriors, but that doesn’t really capture the meaning. It’s more like … the once warriors – the warriors who fought bravely in the last life and will fight bravely again on the Day of Doom. Duck.’

‘The Day of Doom Duck?’

‘No, duck!’

Sulien pushed me down as a spear flew past. It impaled a guy sitting on the nearest sofa, killing him instantly. Drinks, dice and Monopoly money flew everywhere. The people he’d been playing with rose to their feet, looking mildly annoyed, and glared in the direction the spear had come from.

‘I saw that, John Red Hand!’ Sulien yelled. ‘The lounge is a No Impaling area!’

From the billiard room, somebody laughed and called back in … Swedish? He didn’t sound very remorseful.

‘Anyway.’ Sulien resumed walking as if nothing had happened. ‘The elevators are right over here.’

‘Wait,’ I said. ‘That guy was just murdered with a spear. Aren’t you going to do anything?’

‘Oh, the wolves will clean up.’

My pulse went into double time. ‘Wolves?’

Sure enough, while the other Monopoly players were sorting their pieces, a pair of grey wolves bounded into the lounge, grabbed the dead man by his legs and dragged him away, the spear still sticking out of his chest. The trail of blood evaporated instantly. The perforated sofa mended itself.

I cowered behind the nearest potted plant. I don’t care how that sounds. My fear simply took control. These wolves didn’t have glowing blue eyes like the animals that had attacked my apartment, but still I wished I’d ended up in an afterlife where the mascot was a gerbil.

‘Aren’t there any rules against killing?’ I asked in a small voice.

Sulien raised a bushy eyebrow. ‘That was just a bit of fun, boy. The victim will be fine by dinner.’ He pulled me out of my hiding place. ‘Come on.’

Before I could ask more about the ‘bit of fun’, we reached an elevator. Its cage door was made out of spears. Overlapping gold shields lined the walls. The control panel had so many buttons, it stretched from floor to ceiling. The highest number was 540. Sulien pressed 19.

‘How can this place have five hundred and forty floors?’ I said. ‘It would be the tallest building in the world.’

‘If it only existed in one world, yes. But it connects with all the Nine Worlds. You just came through the Midgard entrance. Most mortals do.’

‘Midgard …’ I vaguely remembered something about the Vikings believing in nine different worlds. Randolph had used the term worlds, too. But it had been a long time since my mom read me those Norse bedtime stories. ‘You mean, like, the world of humans.’

‘Aye.’ Sulien took a breath and recited, ‘Five hundred and forty floors has Valhalla; five hundred and forty doors leading out into the Nine Worlds.’ He grinned. ‘You never know when or where we’ll have to march off to war.’

‘How often has that happened?’

‘Well, never. But still … it could happen at any time. I, for one, can’t wait! Finally, Solaris will have to stop punishing me.’

‘The manager? What’s he punishing you for?’

Sulien’s expression soured. ‘Long story. He and I –’

The elevator’s spear-cage door rolled open.

‘Forget it.’ Sulien clapped me on the back. ‘You’ll like floor nineteen. Good hallmates!’