He hadn’t had a plan when he had first gotten to Valhalla, but soon after he found the witch woman, he let his negative feelings consume him, and although he could have lived in Valhalla without trouble, he knew it would have been a lie. So instead, he persuaded the witch to help him. Her allegiances were to no one other than her craft, and she thought it would be interesting to see how his tale of revenge and scorn played out. So, she agreed to concoct an elixir that would turn his seed into an abomination, a cursed child who would churn suffering into whatever womb it was implanted into.
Baldur’s original plan was for Helia to be his target, but it became clear that she would never arrive in Valhalla and he couldn’t get back to Hel without yet another mishap to befall him. When Kemma arrived, it just seemed like the perfect and easy choice. She was Lopt’s granddaughter, Jerrik’s friend, and part of Helia’s trio of women who were like sisters to her. Impregnating Kemma with a demon child that would cause her suffering and eventual death, would punish them all, all the people that he thought had failed him; a misguided delusion of course, but one that he would rather believe than face the fact that his loss of Helia’s love had sent him spiraling into madness.
“What are you doing here?” Helia said as she saw Baldur appear before her.
Matt was not far from where she stood, and he immediately came to stand beside her. He was no longer the weaker human that he was the last time he had seen Baldur. Now Matt was an immortal and had powers that could match Baldur’s strength and likely even best him.
“What, no welcome home?” Baldur said. He was too tired to play much into his sarcasm. He didn’t feel the need to explain his appearance to Helia or any of the preceding events. He just wanted to slink back to his old hovel on the outskirts of Hel and be left alone in his misery and the satisfaction of his revenge for the rest of time. But Helia was persistent if nothing else and was not content with allowing Baldur to remain in Hel without an explanation for his arrival.
“The dark sorcery’s plague has not yet stricken Hel, and we have much to do in preparation for the downfall of the mortal realm. I suggest you be brief in telling me why you have shown up quite literally on my doorstep,” Helia said.
Baldur laughed. “Oh, I would say the dark sorcery has definitely already arrived in your underworld.” He lifted his hand and the thick, purplish haze that Tara had been the only one to see radiating off his skin in the forest was now in full view. It spread from his fingers and crept through the air.
“You?” Helia shouted at him. “You’re responsible for all this? It was you who burned me and buried Matt, that unleashed the dark sorcery from Leif? But how could you manage such a thing?”
“I met an interesting and powerful witch in Valhalla,” Baldur said casually. “She owed me a favor.”
“Why would you do such a thing?” Helia fought the tears that stung her eyes. She knew Baldur had been hurt and that it was, in part at least, her fault. But to do something like this was more hateful than she thought him capable.
“My reasons are my own and none of your concern. Don’t pretend to care anything about why I do things. You certainly didn’t care about me when I was alive.”
And there it was, the reason behind all of his actions. She was to blame, at least in his mind.
“Call off the plague,” she demanded.
“I cannot.”
“Maybe you need some convincing,” Matt said as he stepped toward Baldur.
Baldur laughed at him. “You think you’re all-powerful now, do you? Well, it doesn’t matter what you do. The plague is beyond even my control now. There’s no way to stop it.”
“Lie,” Helia scoffed. “Brenna can stop it.”
Baldur looked surprised. It pleased Helia to see that he didn’t seem to know there was a cure to the madness he had caused. It didn’t seem to cause him to pause for more than a short moment, though.
“Brenna will be a bit too busy tending to Kemma to be concerned with the dark sorcery.”
“What are you talking about?” Matt asked him. “What’s happened to Kemma?”
“Kemma now carries my child,” Baldur grinned. “Well, a version of it anyway. She will be much too busy trying to stay alive as it destroys her from within.”
Helia’s face turned pale, and her eyes grew wide and fearful. She looked upon Baldur, the man she had once loved, as if he were the most horrific monster she had ever laid eyes upon. “How could you do such a thing? Kemma has done nothing to you,” she whispered in a terrified disgust. “When did you become so evil?”
“When you taught me what evil looked like. When you showed me what it was like to be loved, betrayed, and discarded. Now you can all watch and know what it feels like to stand helplessly by as something you love is taken from you.”
Helia was too horrified to speak. She had seen people she had loved turn against her before, even her own mother had failed her and sought to harm those she cared about. But somehow, knowing she was an unwilling part of making this monstrosity, cut her to the core. Matt saw the pain twist on her face, and he was not going to let Baldur cause her any more suffering. He called on his power, just as Helia had shown him how to do, and used the raw energy at his disposal to bind Baldur’s hands together. If the dark sorcery had given Baldur additional strength and power, it was not evident now. He put up no resistance at all to the confinement Matt placed him under. He knew he would have penance to pay for his actions.
“Where are the prisons here?” Matt asked Helia.
Helia didn’t answer. Baldur stared at her, and she looked frozen.
“Helia,” Matt said again. “Where can I place him?”
She snapped out of it when she heard Matt’s voice a second time and pointed to the door leading out from the back of her palace.
“They are through there; you will see them.”
Matt grabbed Baldur by the arm and started to walk with him.
“Wait,” she said.
Both men turned to look at her.
Helia walked up to Baldur and stood as close to him as she comfortably could. Even that made her skin crawl as she remembered the times he was inside her and the man she once believed him to be.
“Tell me of the child that you implanted in Kemma’s womb.”
“Why would I tell you anything?”
“Because I have to believe there is still one sliver of decency within you, Baldur. I loved you once, and for that, I feel you cannot completely hate me as much as you act the part.”
Baldur looked as though he was reconsidering his role as the villain. He shrugged as if her words meant nothing to him, but she could see in his eyes that they did. “It doesn’t matter if I tell you now anyway; it’s already done. The child she carries is mine, but the witch on Valhalla hexed my seed to make sure that it would immediately impregnate.”
“You said that it was a version of your child. What does that mean?”
“The hex has made it wicked. It will live off of Kemma as if she is nothing more than its host, strangling her from the inside as it grows. Once it is born, she will die. And the child will become every bit the monster you thought me to be.”
The corners of Helia’s mouth turned downward. “What would your mother, Freya, think of this? What would she think of the atrocity you have created and the harmful deeds you have done?”