Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
They stare at me, tilting their head slightly. The flickering flames from the hallway dance in their one eye, making their black mane gleam with gold.
Finally, a faint nod. Come on in, Lord Tuonen.
Though Lord isn’t an official title of mine, I do appreciate it when Sarvi uses it—makes me feel like I actually amount to something in this world.
I step inside, the door closing behind me, and follow the unicorn across the room, their hooves clicking on the shining obsidian floors. They lead me over to the single armchair draped in black furs and meant for human guests. Though I’ve never been to the Upper World like Lovia has, I know enough about their culture from her and from the dead I’ve ferried to the city to know that Sarvi’s chambers would be considered heaven for goths.
I sit on the arm of the chair, not wanting to get too comfortable.
What seems to be the problem? Sarvi asks, tailing swishing.
I clear my throat. “I don’t think the father I went to Inmost with is the father who came back.”
Sarvi’s nostrils flare on a deep inhale with air that never fills lungs, for Sarvi has no lungs, because Sarvi isn’t alive. They’re not alive, but they can die.
What makes you say that?
“I saw him come out of the dungeons, not wearing gloves, a wound on his arm that healed before my eyes, and moments later, Hanna almost touched his hand before she realized her mistake.”
I’m sure it was instinctual, Sarvi says. Reaching for her king’s hand for comfort.
“But my father would never make such a careless mistake as to forget his gloves and not warn her and everyone else about it. He did no such thing with me.”
I see. You’re right. It’s always on his mind.
“Then, when we left the city, a snowstorm swept in. I’d never felt bitter cold like that before—have you?”
The unicorn shakes its head.
“Why a storm when my father has seemed happier than ever?”
I did question that myself, Sarvi muses. He was astride me during the storm, and he seemed jovial, perhaps even happier than earlier.
“You must have been inquisitive?” I prod. “Did you try to read his thoughts?”
I would never do such a thing, Sarvi says haughtily. You know me better than that.
I stare at them steadily before finally, they give their head a shake. I tried. He had blocked me. Hanna, too. I figured they needed privacy, so I didn’t push it.
“Uh huh. Then we got home, and Tapio mentioned leaving in the morning to talk to his son about taking over my duties as ferryman. Neither Hanna nor my father showed any emotion whatsoever that Tapio agreed to this. I at least expected it from Hanna, but staring into her eyes, it was like there was nothing there at all. Just a void.”
That could mean anything, Sarvi says.
“Then Tapio pulled me aside and told me he had plans to leave immediately, that he thought something was wrong, that he and his family shouldn’t stay the night here.”
Sarvi’s head perks up. Really?
“Yes. He seemed afraid for them—afraid for me too. He couldn’t put his finger on why, but the feelings were there all the same. He said he needed to council with the other gods. He too noticed the change in the weather.”
So, the Forest Gods are gone?
I nod. “They left, and just now, I was woken up by a scream. My father’s scream. I’d never heard that sound come from him before. It was shrill, immature, sounding more like a child who didn’t get his way. Reminded me of…”
Reminded you of what?
“Before I tell you, perhaps I should tell you why my father screamed. I looked out my door and saw him leaving the guest chambers where Tapio and his family would have stayed overnight. He thought they were leaving in the morning. He came to pay them a visit just now, in the middle of the night, and was upset that they were gone.”
Feeling insulted, perhaps…
“He was carrying a knife.”
Sarvi stills. A knife. Are you sure?
I remember the way the torches on the walls reflected off the blade. “I’m sure. The way he carried the knife wasn’t like him either. The way he walked, frustration rolling off him. I think he meant to kill Tapio.”
Why in hell would he do that?
“Because of the way he sounded. Because right before he appeared in the dungeons of Inmost, I had run into my mother.”
What? Sarvi’s eye goes wide. She was there, at the match?
I nod. “She said she wanted to see Hanna’s first public appearance, but she disappeared before my father came up from the dungeons.”
Silence fills the room. Sarvi turns and slowly walks over to the glass doors that look out onto the landing on the castle wall where they often take flight. Outside, the faintest hint of dawn lightens the horizon over the Mountains of Vipunen.