Before the laughter died on the strangers’ lips, Baldr pushed up from his seat, vengeance thick on his skin, and he smashed the first man’s head onto the wooden table, causing him to fall backward.
When it came to the second one, it was simple. He struck out with his sword, and ran him through.
“You have disgraced my home, sullied it, and now you will pay with your life.”
Pushing his sword through to the hilt, he smiled as the man took his last breath.
“I am the son of Odin, and the son of Freyja. I am war. I am death. I am light.”
“This will not stop them from coming. They will come and take back the dragon and—”
Before the assailant could continue his sentence, Baldr raised his sword higher, gutting him like a fish.
Bloodlust pushed him like a whipped steed. Those who’d hurt Nanna would pay. He reached in and, with a bolt of energy, resurrected the man, only to kill him again, and again, and again, until his rage had lessened.
And no one said a thing. No one interrupted him.
He was the Prince of Asgard.
Removing a crate from behind the tavern’s bar, he folded the man, like a piece of cloth, in on top of himself, crushing his remains until they fit neatly and compactly. Then he kicked the box over to the remaining man, who cowered under the table.
“Have you watched? Have you seen the depths of my barbarism? Do not allow my friendly nature to be misunderstood for weakness. Go now, and take your man there with you. For should you stay, I will have the uttermost pleasure of killing you over and over until my arms tire.”
Nanna
Breidablik—the Hall of Baldr
Seeing Baldr walk through the door, I noticed blue light shone out of his eyes. Whatever was bothering him weighed heavily.
“Baldr, are you okay?” I asked.
“What you did is forbidden in Asgard,” he said.
“The consumption of godly blood? Why? It has helped heal me.” I said. I felt younger, stronger, as if I’d increased in dexterity and ability. I snapped my fingers and a flame appeared, something that had never happened before. Magic. I’d never been a practitioner of it.
“You cannot do that here. Even my father doesn’t practice his magic within these walls, and he knows the magic of old.”
In that moment, he was the brightest star ever to exist. I heard his heartbeat, could feel his breath: “What has she done? If All-Father finds out about this, as well as about the heart, she will be executed.” His thoughts rang in my mind.
I shook my head to be clear of his voice. “Is it that serious? I will die because of this change in me?” I paused and thought about everything he’d mentioned. Ymir. Cursed. Heart. Death. And also, what he didn’t know about—the dragon—the beast resting beneath who had still not revealed itself to him.
“It is said that Ymir was evil,” Baldr began, “but it is more than that. He seeks to come back and destroy Asgard.”
“Well, I am not Ymir.”
“I know, but blood magic is what you have begun practicing. It is more. This magic acts as a seduction.”
I dug my fingernails into my forearm and peeled away the upper level of skin there, and particles of fire began to spark. By the time their light dimmed, my skin had returned and showed no signs of harm.
“What you are now, and what you are doing, I don’t know how to handle it or what to do.”
Heimdall’s horn blew, interrupting us.
“And it appears that we will not be able to finish this conversation now, as an army is approaching Asgard.”
“You got all of that from a horn’s toot?” I asked.
The nice, kind man I knew disappeared and, with his emotions locked down, he headed to his armory. I followed.
“Let me help. I can be of great assistance,” I said. “Fighting is the only thing I know, and surely as a dragon, I can do more good than harm.”
“No, you are to remain here, and not leave this place. Here you will be safe as no evil is allowed to enter.”
“Can that magic be lifted?”
He stared at me, saying nothing.
“Only by the All-Father?”
He nodded and hurried away.
I didn’t want to consider that Odin might be behind everything that had transpired thus far. It felt like a backroom deal had taken place before my feet ever touched the Asgardian ground.
Once Baldr left, I exited the Hall and headed toward Valhalla, where I hoped to find my grandfather. Surely, he would be able to help me, if he wasn’t already fighting at the wall.
When I stepped into the corridor, a male calling my name forced me to turn around. He stood there in his fine red apparel, handsome to stare at, with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“I hope you will forgive us for kidnapping Baldr for so long. He had a lovely time on the battlefield and was only trying to prove something to you.”
I took a step back. “Who are you?”
He smiled a devilish smile and bowed. “I am Loki, son of Laufey. Being here with the Aesir takes a little getting used to. It can also be quite overwhelming, being around perfection and feeling imperfect.”
He understood. He understood my doubt. “There must be something I can do to earn my way, to make them see that I can be of great help.”
He looked me up and down. “Is there some hidden talent you have, dear Nanna, which you could use to assist the gods? Are you willing to sacrifice your freedom to be of service?”
“What do you mean?” I asked. “You speak as if from firsthand knowledge.”
“The gifts the gods so enjoy, such as Thor’s Hammer, Odin’s spear, even the lovely necklace that Freyja loves; they all come from the dwarves, and are gifted to them by me, courtesy of my handiwork, and talent to negotiate. However, that has
