Arnlaug roared. “You finish what you started!”
“Think long and hard about your loyalties, berserker,” Astrid said without looking back. “Do not waste your honor by being loyal to the wrong god.”
We left Arnlaug to wallow in his wounds and continued our fight. We pushed through warrior after warrior, until there were no enemies left. They were all dead, too wounded to fight, or had fled.
My breath came heavy and my body ached with exhaustion, yet it also sang with the glory of war. Astrid didn’t fare much better. She’d used most of her magic during that battle. It had been a lot to take on for the two of us, but we’d done it. And that meant the others weren’t as hindered in their fight.
“We need to get to the others,” I said. By now, they should have already engaged with Odinn. A part of me hoped the battle was already done, so we could finally be rid of this centuries-long problem. But the war side of me craved to see Odinn’s head roll from his shoulders.
Astrid nodded and opened to her mouth to speak, when a wolf’s snarling interrupted her. We whirled around. A horse-sized wolf prowled close. Blood caked its black fur and it walked with an awkward gait, as if injured.
“Fen?” I said. “Where are the others? What happened with Odinn?”
Astrid gasped. “Fen, are you all right? Do you need healing?”
He didn’t respond, and instead prowled closer, his lips pulling back. My senses twitched. Something wasn’t right.
Astrid stepped forward, her hands out. “Fen, what’s wrong? Are you in pain? I can help.”
“Astrid,” I warned.
She stopped and looked back at me, her brow creased.
“Don’t get any closer to him. He’s not in control of his wolf.” I advanced, weapon at the ready. “Fen, you need to come out of that form. I need to talk to you, but not man to beast.”
Fenrir snarled and then lunged. I tensed and readied to throw my friend off, when he unexpectedly pivoted. Astrid gasped and threw up her hands, but no magic came out. No!
The world moved in slow motion. My feet dug into the ground. Astrid backpedaled and screamed. Fenrir snapped his teeth. No! No!
My pulse pounded in my ears. I slammed into Fenrir’s body. Astrid dropped to the ground and Fenrir whirled on me. Blood dripped from his sharp maw. He snapped his teeth and pain tore up my arm.
The tension roiling through me numbed me to the pain. My breath rushed out in hard gasps. I swung my axe, the blade slamming into Fenrir’s face. He howled and snarled in pain. I didn’t care. He went after Astrid. I didn’t know what’d gotten into him, but that was unforgivable.
Fenrir backed off, his face bleeding profusely. He then turned tail and ran off. I whirled around, not caring where the mongrel ran off to. I’d deal with him later. “Astrid—”
I froze. Astrid lay still on the ground, eyes wide and mouth gaping. Blood pooled from the gaping wound. “No…”
I rushed over to her, clamping my hand over her wound. “Hold on, Astrid. Hold on.”
I tried to lift her into my arms. I needed to get her to a healer. But something made it difficult to grab her. My hand covering her wound shook. Breathing became difficult. This couldn’t be happening.
Astrid’s eyes glazed as she reached up to me. Her mouth moved, but the sounds of her choking on her blood was the only thing to come out.
“No… Astrid… You can’t…”
Her lip quivered, and then her hand dropped. She gurgled out one more breath and then stilled.
“Astrid…” I shook her. “Astrid! No!”
I pulled her limp, lifeless body against my chest, cradling her as numbness creeped through me. No… Creation, no… She can’t be… My Valkyrie couldn’t be gone. She was immortal. I’d have her for all eternity. No…
I tipped my head back and screamed into the empty air. He’ll pay for this. Fenrir will pay.
“Týr!”
I jerked my attention toward Baldr’s voice. My breath was ragged and my throat raw. He and Freyja, both covered in the blood of our enemies and their own, slowly approached.
Freyja shook her head. “No…”
