I punched her in the arm; she laughed while wincing. Kirby and I got along well. And of all those I knew, Kirby understood my position with Astrid the best. She’d taken a berserker lover, Starkad, who had yet to develop his immortal soul, risking an early death.
“I’m about to see if Astrid can learn teleporting with her magic,” Freyja said. “Then we’ll get back to watching these three beat each other to a pulp.”
“A völva with that kind of potential?” Kirby smirked. “I’m glad I showed up in time.”
Pink tinged Astrid’s cheeks. “Don’t get too excited; we’re not sure I can do it. All völvur have different abilities in their magic. I can heal and cast other spells, but my mother can’t heal. However, she has visions, and so far, all of them have come true, even if they seem strange and farfetched.”
“I never doubt Freyja, so if she thinks you can, then you can. But I am curious about these unusual visions your mother sees. Has she told you some?”
Astrid nodded. “One of the oddest ones was that she saw mortal women in strange clothing becoming Valkyries.”
All gods and Valkyrie stared at her. That’s not possible, is it? Regardless of the stories the mortals made up, a majority of us gods didn’t know where we came from—we just were. And the Valkyries were of Odinn’s creation, but none could recall how it happened, and he had never made any after the initial group.
Astrid shrugged. “Like I said, the visions are unusual and sound impossible.”
Kirby made a thoughtful noise, and Freyja decided to steer the conversation over to Astrid’s training.
I took a comfortable seat on the ground to watch. I’d never seen Freyja teach anyone anything, so I was interested in how this would go. Plus, watching Astrid do anything was an added bonus.
One of Freyja’s cats rubbed against me, and I allowed her to hop up in my lap. I preferred dogs, but cats weren’t too bad.
Fenrir attempted to get the other cat to tolerate him, but his attempts only made it look like he was harassing the feline. The whole ordeal provided me with a great deal of entertainment, especially when the shifter god started pouting.
Freyja instructed Astrid that they’d work on having her go to the other side of the clearing. It wasn’t too far, but a good enough distance to train for. I listened as she explained the basics of teleportation, and how Astrid had to visualize where she was going, either based on a place or a person she knew. Astrid followed along like the perfect mentee, her entire focus on what the goddess said.
“Ready to try?” Freyja asked when she finished explaining.
Astrid sucked in a deep breath and nodded. She closed her eyes and her brow furrowed in deep concentration. Several long moments passed before her physical being blurred and then solidified.
My back straightened. That was a sign that it’s possible, right?
Astrid cracked open an eye and then let out a sigh, her shoulders slumping. “Didn’t work.”
Freyja clacked her tongue. “Actually, it did. Your form blurred, with a partial teleport that ultimately failed. Try again.”
Astrid’s lips twisted. Then she tried again. And then again. And again.
Each time, her form blurred more and more, until…
I jumped to my feet when Astrid disappeared, startling the cat in my lap, and frantically looked around for her. “Where is she?”
All four of us gazed around the clearing, but Astrid was nowhere to be found.
“Oh no,” Freyja mumbled.
Freyja could sense the location of any immortal, as could I to a certain extent. However, Astrid was mortal, and that meant none of us knew where she was.
“Týr?” Astrid’s voice called from the distance of the surrounding forest.
“Astrid!” I shouted.
“Oh good, I’m still in the same forest. Um, give me a moment and I’ll try to get back to all of you.”
“Walk to us. Don’t try the magic again,” I said. “We can’t track you down if you go too far.”
I didn’t receive a response, and that kicked up my pulse. She wouldn’t be rash enough to try again, right? “Astrid? Astrid!”
A shrieking gasp behind me was the only response I received. I whirled around and stared at Astrid, scrabbling for purchase on a high-up tree bough she now hung from.
