Baldr sprinted to me, falling to his knees in front of Astrid’s lifeless body. He held up a shaking hand. “She’s not… Astrid can’t be…”
“She prayed to me,” Freyja murmured. “She said…”
The goddess struggled to speak. Her steps toward us were slow and jerky. “She said… to take care of Týr for her… It’s why I rushed us here…”
Freyja dropped to her knees next to Baldr. Her lower lip quivered, and she reached for Astrid, only to stop. Her eyes widened. “Týr, what happened to you?”
I looked down at myself, and for the first time, saw what Fenrir had done. My hand was gone. Bitten off at the wrist. My skin was in the process of knitting together over the exposed bone. My awareness brought physical agony raging through me.
Baldr snarled. “And who did this to Astrid?”
My jaw clenched. I struggled to control my breathing. With my fading numbness, rage mixed with my pain.
I grabbed Freyja by her cuirass. “Bring me to him.”
She stared at me, eyes wide. “What?”
“You hear me, Freyja. Bring me to him now!” My rage spilled over. My pulse pounded in my ears. “I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him for taking Astrid from me. That mongrel will pay!”
Her brow knitted together. “Mongrel? Týr, I don’t know who you mean. Please try to stay calm. I’ll help, I just need you to—”
“Fenrir!” I shouted. “Fenrir did this!”
Freyja gaped at me. “W–what? No. That’s not possible.”
I gripped her armor tighter. “I know what I saw, Freyja.”
“Týr, listen to yourself. Astrid was our family too. Fenrir would never do that. You know this. Baldr, please help here.”
Baldr didn’t speak up immediately, and I didn’t take my eyes off Freyja. She’d help me find him. I didn’t care what it required of me to force her.
“I want to agree, Freyja, but…” Baldr faltered. “You saw him before the battle. He wasn’t acting right. Astrid was worried about him, and has been for a while. And… you weren’t with us when we fought Odinn.”
Baldr shook his head. “Fenrir didn’t fight like himself. It was like he lost control. And I told you, after the fight, he ran off. I want to believe he wouldn’t do this. But I can’t.”
My muscles coiled. “Take me to him, now, Freyja.”
Her eyes narrowed, and she gripped my wrist. “Release me, Týr.”
“Not until you locate Fenrir and bring me to him.”
She shook her head. “I need more proof.”
I bared my teeth. “I saw him!”
“And you’re distraught!” Her grip on my wrist tightened. “There are other wolf shifters in existence. Hel, I fought some in this very war and plenty looked just like him. Fenrir acting out of sorts and you claiming it was him while emotionally distraught isn’t proof he did this. I will not condemn him to death until I have proof.”
I yanked her close, our noses almost touching. “If you’re protecting him, then you’re working with him! And that makes you my enemy.”
“Týr,” Baldr warned in a low growl. “You’re out of line.”
“I am not your enemy,” she said, unphased by my threat. “I will help you, Týr, but not to kill Fenrir unless you have absolute proof.”
“That is the only way to help! It’s the only way to avenge her!”
Freyja’s eyes softened. “Týr, remember, I have magic. I might be able to do something here.”
I froze.
