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“The goddess of death visited me in a dream. “A job well done, son of Tyr,” she said. “Your mother is safe. I may even grant you permission to visit her from time to time.” Warring emotions bubbled up in my gut then—anger at how my mother had been treated, and elation that one day I might get to see her again. Elation won out. “I look forward to that,” I said. “And I’m glad your dog is back home, even though he’s destined to kill my dad. But right now, do me a favor.” I rolled over and pulled up the covers. “Go to Helheim.” — Rick Riordan
The goddess of death visited me in a dream. “A job well done, son of Tyr,” she said. “Your mother is safe. I may even grant you permission to visit her from time to time.”
Warring emotions bubbled up in my gut then—anger at how my mother had been treated, and elation that one day I might get to see her again. Elation won out.
“I look forward to that,” I said. “And I’m glad your dog is back home, even though he’s destined to kill my dad. But right now, do me a favor.” I rolled over and pulled up the covers. “Go to Helheim.