“Despite the generosity of Asgard, the wolf had too much evil in it to be swayed. The gods deemed it too dangerous to remain, and it has been securely fettered, where it will remain for the rest of its days.”
—Public Notice
Gladsheim was already full when we arrived. The gods had taken their seats, but they weren’t alone. Anyone who commanded any influence in the city was present, from those in charge of the merchant and civilian quarters to the captains of every branch of Asgard’s army.
As I scanned the crowd for familiar faces, I spotted Loki, though no one else would know it was him. He’d taken the shape of a woman, one of the faces he used for travelling the city. She was small and shy, plain and unassuming. The very opposite of Loki, which was the point.
We pushed through the mob, trying to reach him, but Odin held his hand up for silence. Beside him stood Hermod, dirty and road-worn. When the room settled, Hermod began to speak.
“I bring news from Helheim.” He gathered himself, standing straighter, despite the circles under his eyes and the sag in his limbs. “I’ve been on the road a long time, and it wasn’t an easy path. It took nine days to reach the bridge to the realm. It was guarded by a maiden. She asked me what business I had there, and I asked her if she’d seen Baldur riding past. She had.
“She told me to ride to the gates, but when I arrived, they refused to open. There was no way for me to pry them apart or to climb over, but with Sleipnir’s speed, we were able to leap over them. It’s a dark realm. No sun to speak of, only torchlight and the glowing moss to see by. What I found on the other side...The girl, Hel…” He looked to Odin. “You sent her there to die or rule, and she’s already taken command. She calls herself the Goddess of Death. She’s put the dead to work, organized them. They’re building a city there. They respect her.
“She agreed to speak with me. Asked me to stay in her hall. In the morning, I went to breakfast, and Baldur was there, his wife at his side. Hel asked why the Allfather had sent me, and I told her. She laughed at me. ‘The realms weep for him,’ I said, and she answered, ‘I find that hard to believe.’ When I swore it, she asked me to give my proof. And that is the deal. If we can prove that all things—living, dead, or never alive—weep for Baldur, he’ll be returned to us. If even one thing refuses to weep for him, we lose him to Helheim forever.” He sighed, staring out over the gathered crowd, his eyes dull. “I’m sorry; it’s all I could do.”
The crowd filled with murmurs, neighbour turning to neighbour as the weight of the task settled over them.
It was Freya who broke the din. “How can we prove that?”
Odin scratched his beard. “If Frigg can coax a promise from a rock, surely she can get a tear as well.”
Frigg stood, her hands together in front of her. Her eyes were present, aware. “We’ll do what must be done, as we always do. Who will help us? Who will ride into the realms and ask with us?”
The silence was broken immediately, the room filling with shouts and offers of fealty. The people were eager to prove their dedication. I put my hand up, though I didn’t intend to help. We had enough to worry about.
“Good,” Odin said, crossing his arms. “Prepare yourselves for the journey. Leave at first light. Ask everything in your path. Don’t overlook anything and don’t return until you’ve done everything in your power to make this right. Leave us.”
The crowd broke, merchants and captains whispering to each other as they made their way toward the doors, offering each other supplies, horses, men. I turned to the boys. “There’s something I need to do. Go home and stay inside. Don’t let anyone in. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Váli gave me a suspicious look but pulled his brother along all the same. I turned and walked against the tide, trying to reach the place I’d last seen Loki, but when I arrived, she was gone. Following the crowd, I walked on my toes, trying to find her above all the heads. And finally, there she was.
I couldn’t call out. It would draw too much attention. Instead, I pushed through the sea of people until I could reach out and tug on her arm.
Loki whipped around, surprised. But the shock quickly fell away. “Sig, you nearly gave me a heart attack.”
I pulled Loki into a quiet hallway, dragging her further down until we were safely tucked in the shadows. The false shape fell away, and he was himself again, fire-haired and green-eyed.
A grin spread across his face. “Did you hear? Hel is alright! Such a spitfire, that one. Gods, if I could just get to her—”
“We need to talk.” I looked around, not wanting to be overheard by eager ears.
“What’s wrong?” There was already concern on his face.
I reached for his hand and took it. It was strange, touching him so casually, as if his skin didn’t burn a hole in me. “Loki...something’s happened. Fenrir’s been chained up on the island of Amsvartnir. He needs you.”
“Chained up?” He pulled his hand away, his lips curled back in a snarl. “How?”
“Odin gave the command. They were afraid of him, and they tied him with some kind of Dwarven cloth. He couldn’t break free. There was nothing we could do.”
There was a glisten in his eyes, each deep breath an exercise in constraint. “You were there?”
“I saw it. We tried to help him, but there was an army. I couldn’t put the boys in danger. But Fenrir is alone now; you can get to him. You’ll be able to help.”
Loki pushed his hand through his hair, his eyes searching the hall as if there were answers there. Panic soaked his voice. “Why? Why this, why him? I thought they were going to train him?”
“I know. That’s what they said.” I cupped my hands over my mouth, trying to find the right words. “They got scared. He’s so big and…he needs you. My disenchantments didn’t work, and they put a sword in his mouth to keep it open. There’s some kind of seidr on it—”
Disgust rippled over Loki’s face. Rage began to spew from his lips. “A sword? A fucking sword in his mouth? How dare they touch him. Did they think something like this would just stand? That I wouldn’t snap their fucking necks for this?” His voice was getting louder, more desperate. “I won’t let them take him. They took so much already.” A hitched breath. “All the years I tore myself apart for them. The scars, the nightmares, the things I’ve lost and now…” He was breathing in short, fast bursts. Loki’s hands went to his face, and he let out a frustrated cry, so full of pain. “They’re going to take everything, Sig.”
I tried to steel myself against his pitiful display. “They’re not.”
“They will! They are!”
“You shut your fucking mouth.”
Loki looked at me, startled.
I pushed him upright, pulled his hands away from his face. “Get yourself together. You can fall apart on your own time. Your children need you to be strong for them.”
The look on his face was like a wounded animal. “But Sig, it’s too much. Over and over again, I can’t—”
“No. I don’t care. I don’t care how difficult this is for you or how overwhelmed you feel. This is what it is to be a parent, remember? Nothing is about us anymore. Odin strapped your son to a boulder, and he’s bleeding and alone. No one can help him but you. And you’re going to because that is the only fucking choice.”
Loki nodded, an edge coming back to his face. A sharpness in his eyes. “Váli and Narvi are alright?”
“They’re home.” I nodded towards the window. “Go save your son.”
Loki took a deep breath, his lips pursed like he was about to say something. But he didn’t. The air distorted, and in a moment, he was gone. A hawk screeched and hopped onto an open windowsill. One stretch of its wings, and it was airborne, leaving me to sag against the wall and collapse into my own emotions.