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)
I stare at my father’s email for a moment and the phone number in his signature. If I emailed him, would he believe it’s me? If I called him, would he have a heart attack?
I decide to risk it and call him. I wanted to see him in person so he could see my face, so he could believe his daughter wasn’t a ghost, but he should recognize my voice. Maybe I don’t have to bother with my uncle at all.
But when I call the number, some robotic voice comes on in Finnish and then hangs up. Obviously, his number has since been changed or disconnected.
I glance out the window. Even though it’s only three, it’s starting to snow, and darkness is descending on the city. I’d forgotten how early the night comes here in the winter.
“I have a plan,” I tell Tuoni, who by now has put some clothes on and become less of a distraction. “I tried to call my father, but I don’t think his number is in service. I could email him, but I fear he’ll treat it as a joke, and it will only hurt him. But I do have my Uncle Osmo’s address here in the city. He’s not too far. Let’s get something to eat, get a coffee, and then wait until he’ll probably be home from his job and pay him a visit.”
Tuoni slowly nods, grooming his beard with his hands and making a small braid down the middle. “Isn’t your uncle going to be shocked to find his dead niece on his doorstep?”
“He will be. He might call my mother. He might call the police. I don’t want either of those things to happen. That’s where you come in.”
He grunts. “You want me to use my powers to influence his mind.”
“Exactly. You’re so good at it.”
One shoulder lifts in a shrug as he finishes the braid. “I am. Let’s just hope there are no dire consequences. We haven’t even checked on the secretive guy to see if his mind still works properly.”
Secretive guy? Oh right, the front desk clerk.
But when we leave the room and I ask the front desk clerk where to find good coffee, he’s pleasant, if not bland, and there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with him that wasn’t already wrong with him yesterday.
We exit the hotel and walk a couple of blocks until we come to the city’s famous Fazer café. The moment we step inside, Tuoni’s eyes light up like the Fourth of July. There are rows and stacks of colorful cakes, pastries, and desserts as far as the eye can see.
“We’re eating here?” he asks in awe, and I have to giggle at how overjoyed he seems.
“Having cake for a meal is very Finnish,” I tell him as I walk over to the counter, picking up a tray. “Besides, you get to have the best coffee this way.”
Once we both decide on our cakes—chocolate for him, vanilla for me—we get two coffees, pay for it all at the register, and find a table. Naturally, everyone in the café looks over at Tuoni with interest, but they quickly look away and go back to eating in relative silence.
Both of us were hungrier than we thought, and thirsty too, so after we’re done with the cakes, we grab a couple of pulla buns and get drinks to go—another coffee for him, while I get a hot chocolate with fat, pastel pink and green marshmallows.
“Amaranthus,” Tuoni says again for the umpteenth time as we leave the café and step out into the dark city street. “Who knew coffee could taste so good?”
“Hey, the coffee you have at Shadow’s End ain’t half bad,” I say, pulling out my phone with my free hand to look at the map and make sure we’re walking in the right direction toward my uncle’s apartment.
“Nah,” he says with a sniff. “It’s not the same. Something must happen when I have it smuggled through, or maybe my scouts aren’t going to the right spots.”
“Where do your scouts go?” I ask as we wait at a stoplight. I hold my arm across Tuoni’s chest so he knows not to walk out in the middle of traffic again. “They aren’t spat out in the Finnish wilderness, are they?”
He chuckles. “No. There is a portal underneath Shadow’s End en route to the Crystal Caves. I’ve never dared to slip through myself, but I believe it takes the person directly to France.”
“Ah,” I say, walking as the hand flashes for us to cross. “That’s probably where your daughter leaves from. She’s talked about Paris a few times with me. Maybe she should be your scout going forward. That way, she can bring you back the best coffee, and she gets to go on her little adventures.”
He grunts at that, but instead of looking annoyed at the idea of Lovia coming into the world and shirking her duties, he looks wistful. I can tell he’s thinking about her, about Tuonen, missing them, worrying for them. I don’t want to bring it to his attention, though, because he’s apt to feel self-conscious.