“Baldur was plagued by these nightmares. He couldn’t say who or how, but he knew without a doubt that he was going to die. If only we’d understood in time...”
—Asgard Historical Record, Volume 36
None of us slept. We knew what was coming.
I made Hreidulfr promise to keep Váli and Narvi at home under threat of death. I couldn’t have them getting in the way or becoming tied to whatever happened next. I went to Valhalla alone.
The hall was nearly empty when I arrived, despite the tables being set with endless platters of food. A roar sounded from the garden doors, where einherjar were pressing out into the daylight, trying to shove their way through.
It was impossible to see past them into the garden. Many of them towered over my head, craning their own necks to see past the throng. I pushed, forcing myself into what little space there was between the soldiers. Something clanged in the distance, and a cheer went up again.
It took forever to reach the front. But there he was, Baldur, God of Light, standing just in front of the Valkyrie fountain. Thor stepped forward and swung his hammer at his brother’s face with all his might, but the hammer stopped short, lingering in mid-air. Thor slipped and landed on his ass, the sudden loss of momentum making him stumble. Another cheer.
Someone threw a rock. It stopped inches from Baldur’s face and fell to the ground. Someone else struck at him with a piece of lumber, which snapped in half rather than strike him. It seemed like Frigg’s plan had worked.
I looked around. All the gods were there, laughing and drinking and trying to kill Baldur. A large collection of items had built up at his feet, and he laughed at each attempt, clearly enjoying his new immortality.
They’d even managed to get Hod to join, though he didn’t seem to be enjoying the spectacle as much as his sighted counterparts. Eyvindr wasn’t with him, but there was an old, hunched woman keeping him company. That was something.
Loki, though, was nowhere to be found.
Skuld had been very specific about when, and obviously this was the right time and place. So where was he? My eyes flitted to the birds in the trees, then to a cat that was slinking through the crowd.
Yggdrasil shade me, he could be anyone.
As little as I wanted to do it, I walked along the edge of the circle, making my way to Frigg. She looked up as I got closer and gave me one of the falsest smiles I’d ever seen.
“Congratulations on such a great feat of seidr. I’m glad you’ve saved him.” I crossed my hands over each other, head down, attempting to appear demure and submissive.
“It’s a very good day.” Frigg’s gaze went back out to the scene in front of us as someone threw a tomato at the God of Light. It burst in mid-air, not a single drop landing on him. “Nothing can hurt my son now.”
“Nothing? Can you really be sure that you’ve asked everything in the nine realms? It’s an awfully long list.”
“I’m certain. I spoke with everything worth asking.” Frigg’s gaze drifted for a moment, as if something invisible had caught her attention.
“What didn’t you ask?”
She spoke faintly, distracted. “Useless things. Grass… mistletoe… cloudberries...” And then she stopped registering that I was there at all, her eyes glassy and distant.
Frigg hadn’t been as thorough as she ought to have been. Skuld knew, and so would Loki, somehow. My eyes caught on the crone speaking to Hod. She had something in her hand. A small spear almost as long as an axe. It looked woven from smaller pieces, but I wasn’t close enough to see what. She lifted her arm and said something that brought a smile to Hod’s face. Then she flung the spear.
A shriek poured from Frigg’s lips just before the spear pierced Baldur’s chest.
There was a gurgle in his throat as Baldur tried to breathe, red trickling over his lip. He dropped to his knees, hands grasping at the thing protruding from him. Trying to pull it out. Then his body seized, and he fell, his limp body curled in the dirt. Unmoving.
Frigg was at his side before I could remind myself to breathe. She cradled him in her arms, blood staining her clothing. Ear pressed to his chest, she waited. There was nothing but the long, drawn out silence as she listened for his heartbeat. A wail escaping her that froze my blood, and she collapsed onto her son.
“Come back!” Tears streamed down her cheeks, fists clenched around the fabric of his tunic. “Please! I was supposed to keep you here; you can’t go!”
But he was already gone.
Everything she had done had been for nothing. Her son had died anyway.
Then the garden came alive with cries of pain and vengeance. How had it happened? Who had done it? How was one of their gods dead?
I wiped at my cheeks, expecting tears. But they were dry. My brother was gone. But how many years had it been since we’d spoken? I loved him, had loved him. But I barely knew him.
It should hurt.
Trying to think through the shock, I grasped at facts. The old woman who’d thrown the spear…Who had she been? Hod was still there, but the woman was gone. And then the yelling pierced the fog that had fallen over me, drawing my attention back to the world.
“He threw it!”
“It was Hod!”
“Murderer!”
“Murderer?” Hod stepped back, stumbling into someone behind him. His face was a mess of confusion, his eyes wide. “Who’s been killed? What’s happened?”
Several of the einherjar stepped forward, each speaking out of turn that they’d seen Hod throw the spear, that he’d killed his own brother.
“I didn’t kill anyone!” Hod was struggling to keep his balance with so many bodies jostling around him. “I can’t see; how could I kill anyone?”
“No!” I pushed forward, trying to break through the people who were swarming closer to Baldur’s body. “Hod didn’t do it! It was the old woman!”
But they weren’t hearing me.
“I saw it! It came from where he was standing!”
“His own brother!”
“No.” Hod stepped back. “It wasn’t me. I didn’t throw anything!”
“Restrain him!” Odin cried out, pointing at Hod. A pair of einherjar took Hod by the arms and hauled him into the circle, forcing him to his knees next to Frigg and the body of Baldur. “We knew that someone was coming for Baldur, but we never could have imagined it would be you. I knew you were jealous of him; you always have been. Living in the light while you were stuck in the dark. But I never understood how desperate you were.”
“What?” Hod was fighting against his captors, trying to push back. “When I was a child, yes, but it’s been two centuries! I have my own life, my own things to love. I didn’t want him dead—I don’t want him dead…” Hod settled, grief washing over him.
“They say they saw you. Will you call all these people liars?” Odin crouched in front of his son.
“Yes, Father. They lie. I didn’t kill him.”
Odin shook his head. “A better man would face his death with dignity.” Odin wiped a tear from his own cheek and stood. “A life for a life.”
No.
I pushed through the crowd, trying to get to him before they could hurt him. I was nearly there when someone pulled me back by the wrist. A hand touched my cheek and a burst of warmth flowed into my skin, dropping me instantly into a half-sleep. My knees buckled, and the strength went out of me. An arm around my back to bear my weight, pulling me ahead, my feet stumbling, dragging me through the enraged crowd.
Away from Hod.
It was like being underwater. I swung my fist, trying to break free. I was so sluggish, so sleepy that it was barely a brush against their cloak. I couldn’t see their face.
I made an attempt to fall forward, back into the crowd. It was just enough to see Vidar, that newest addition to Odin’s brood, slide out from the throng and drive a sword into Hod’s back.
Hod screamed. A blood-curdling, desperate sound. The cry that forced its way out of my throat ripped it raw.
I fell like a stone, hitting my knees on the ground.
He was dead.
I hadn’t saved him.
The stranger in the cloak hauled me up, pulling me out of the garden through the mass of screaming einherjar. They were mourning. Two gods dead.
Hod was dead.
“Sigyn, get up. We have to go.”
The world was a blur. I looked up, finally able to see inside the hood. Loki. He had dragged me all the way into Valhalla, hands under my arms, trying to pull me to my feet.
“You.”
I couldn’t keep my feet under me. My body was as limp as a ragdoll. As he was dragging me out of Valhalla, Frigg’s voice rose above the crowd. “Who will go to Helheim and bring Baldur back?”
What about Hod?
My legs stuck against the floor as Loki turned me into an alcove in Valaskjálf and used the wall to prop me up. “Snap out of it. We need to leave.”
I looked up at him. His face was so close to mine. The hazy part of my mind remembered the tapestry, the moments we’d been this near to each other. How had it ever been that easy?
“You killed him.”
“He deserved it,” Loki snarled. “They took my children, and I’m supposed to leave them alone? They’re taking everything. I can’t just do nothing, Sig, I can’t! They think they’re above the rest of us and they can’t get away with this, and Baldur—”
“You killed Hod.”
The anger dropped from his face, replaced with something else. Something dark. “I didn’t. I wouldn’t.”
“It was your fault.” The tears were falling again, soaking into the collar of my dress.
He was struggling for words. “It wasn’t—I saw Hod, and I just…it was good to see him. And I shouldn’t have been there. I wasn’t thinking about him, just what I needed to do. I killed Baldur, but Odin killed his own son.”
“But he’s dead, Loki. You wanted vengeance, and the price was our friend. Again.” I tried to move away, but my legs still wouldn’t hold me. Loki grabbed me, keeping me from falling, and the two of us slid down to sit on the floor.
“It’s not what I wanted.” Loki pressed his forehead to mine, hiding us behind his cloak. I pulled in a rasping sob, guilt pouring over me. He wrapped his arms around me like there was anything he could do to console me. I shoved him, but he held tighter. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“Didn’t mean it?” I pried his hands off me and forced him away. His face was slick with tears. “I was going to stop them, save him! And you paralyzed me and took me away instead!”
“You could’ve died.” He propped himself up on one hand and wiped his face. “I would save you a thousand times even if it meant killing everyone in the nine.”
I stared at him, waiting for him to hear himself. “And that’s exactly why Odin is afraid of you.”
His brow furrowed, and he bit his lip, the weight of it sinking in.
Noise poured into the hall.
Loki was on his feet in a heartbeat, pulling me up so hard that it hurt my wrist. “I don’t want to fucking hear it. It’s time to go.”