His mouth twisted. “It’s not necessary for—”
Astrid’s eyes narrowed, and she pointed to the now-free spot in front of her. “Now.”
His eyebrows rose high toward his forehead, and I choked on a laugh. My Astrid was getting quite comfortable around us.
Baldr let out a long breath and complied. Astrid took his arm and inspected him for damage.
“They say you can’t feel. Is it just pain you don’t feel, or other physical touch, too?”
He grinned. “I’m well aware how warm your hands are.”
“So only pain,” she murmured, checking his upper arm. “Explains all this damage. You don’t let your body heal because you don’t know you’re injured.”
I pursed my lips. That was a fascinating assessment from her.
“How does this magic work?” Baldr inquired. “Do you just sense internal injuries?”
Astrid shook her head. “No, I’m using magic to feel under your skin. It catches on damage, like water finding cracks in a bowl. I do have to be careful, of course, because like water, if I use too much magic in my search, I could make that damage worse.”
Fenrir leaned forward. “How do you know when to heal?”
“That’s a judgement call. If something doesn’t feel right—like this, here”—Astrid ran her thumb along the back of Baldr’s arm—“then I’ll focus my magic into healing.”
“How do you heal?” Baldr asked.
She squinted. “Um… that’s harder to explain.”
Made sense. I didn’t have a robust knowledge of magic beyond being able to summon and dismiss my weapons and armor, which Freyja insisted was different, but what I’d learned from being around those who could use it, it came so naturally to them, it was more instinctual. That’s what made it difficult for magic practice to be passed on, and why I found Astrid’s maternal line of völvur even more fascinating.
“How does that feel?” Astrid asked Baldr.
He rotated and flexed his arm, his eyes wide. “I can move it better. I didn’t feel anything you did, but it’s clearly better than before.”
Astrid smiled wide; her pride was well-earned. That was an important breakthrough for her. It added a layer of complexity to her healing. Next she’ll be healing cripples.
Astrid continued, finding Baldr really did have a rather messed-up body even with god healing. She wasn’t able to get to it all, as the healing taxed her too much, but she was adamant she wanted to do another session with him later if she was up for it, or some other day. Baldr agreed, and I had no issues with him coming around her more.
“I want to try something,” Freyja said. “Magic might be rare in mortals, but I’ve met my fair share of gifted witches and sorcerers. Even still, I never thought a mortal would be able to do this, but given the promising power you have, Astrid, I want to see if it’s possible for you to learn teleportation.”
Astrid’s eyes grew wide. “You really want to teach me that?”
“I do.”
I expected Astrid to explode from the beaming excitement on her face, but she managed to stay controlled. “I would be honored if you taught me that magic.”
The flapping of wings caught our attention, and we looked up. A woman with golden hair and black feathered wings garbed in armor swooped down and landed gracefully.
Her vibrant blue eyes swept over us. “I apologize for being late. I was held up.”
Fenrir grinned. “You mean tied up by your precious berserker.”
She didn’t refute the accusation.
I noticed her gaze flicked to Astrid a few times, who gazed at her with awe. “Kirby, meet Astrid. Astrid, this is Kirby, she’s—”
“A Valkyrie,” Astrid finished. “Your wings are beautiful.”
Kirby smiled. “I thought I’d like you. Though, why you’d waste your time with an oaf like Týr is beyond me.”
