I snorted, and his glare darkened. The other warrior stepped up. “Thor, Bragi—I give you my word.”
Frey. One of the few relatives I’d missed. I stared at his sword as he sheathed it. The Red Blade. It could cut a field of c*****e at its wielder’s command. Unfortunately, it wasn’t very discriminating, which is why we gave it to Frey. The god of rain, sunshine, and harvests, his nature was to protect life. He was the only one that we’d all trusted. I realized that I still trusted him.
“All right. But Gungnir stays here,” I said, pointing at Pop’s deadly spear.
Pop scowled storm clouds but laid it down. “If there’s no lightning, there can be no thunder.” He glanced at my hammer. I shrugged, shifting Mjolnir back to a walking stick.
They descended the steps, and I gripped forearms with bot
