Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 125422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
“I was there when it crumbled,” the Magician adds. “Luckily, I ran into Lovia. We headed here to find you, to find our allies. Along the way, Rasmus came to stop us. Then, an Old God tried to do the same.”
“You didn’t see Nyyrikki or Mielikki, did you?” Tapio asks, his voice heavy with worry, to which I shake my head. “When we returned to the forest, we sensed something evil had already permeated the soil here. We immediately started looking for Nyyrikki, who had stayed in the forest and never made it to the bone match. But while we were searching, we became separated from Mielikki. I can’t explain it. One minute, she was here, the next, she wasn’t. We have been searching the forest ever since and still we cannot find either of them.”
“We hear them,” Tellervo says, her eyes darting around the trees nervously. “The Old Gods. They have awakened in the deep groves outside of our wards, but we don’t know how much longer they can hold. It’s as if our own magic is weakening, like the forest is turning on us. Nothing is as it should be.”
“And so why is he still alive?” Tapio says, nodding at Rasmus. “He’s Louhi’s son, is he not? Why didn’t you kill him the first chance you got?”
“Because Yggthra, the Old God that tried to stop us, was about to kill him,” I explain.
“So you got soft?” Tapio says gruffly, in a way that reminds me of my father.
“I didn’t get soft,” I say, struggling to keep my voice calm. “I just realized that if Louhi was willing to kill him, then he’s no longer under her command—not blindly, anyway. He is our prisoner. He may be dangerous, but we need him alive. If he is not useful as leverage, then he may be helpful with intel.”
Tellervo snorts, unimpressed, but Tapio’s gaze seems to search my face, as if looking for truth etched amid the pain and grime in my features.
“The only intel we need is where to find my wife and son,” Tapio says slowly. “We need to find them before we can make any other plans.”
The Magician dips his head. “That is why we seek you. Time is short, and we need all the allies we can get, including your wife and son. We will help you find them if you promise us to help find others—Ahto, Vellamo, Ilmatar. Especially Tuoni, as I know he’ll be back in this world before long.”
“Don’t forget Hanna,” Tellervo says.
“And Hanna, of course,” he affirms. “She has a part to play here too, maybe the biggest part of all. But we can’t fight against Louhi unless we are united. It is only then we have a fighting chance.”
Tellervo takes in his words, her gaze lingering on Rasmus, distrust shining in her eyes. I tighten my hold on the mycelium rope, feeling the hostility radiating from the gods.
“Your prisoner,” Tapio says, raising his chin, “carries the stain of Louhi. He does not belong in this forest.”
Tellervo steps forward and tilts her head at Rasmus, wild red hair shifting over her shoulders like a living vine. “Louhi’s spawn,” she repeats, her tone flat but vibrating with disgust. “If we let him live, we risk more corruption taking root here. None of us can trust him. How can we even start searching for my brother and mother when we’ll be looking over our shoulder, waiting for him to make his move? What if his very presence here is enough to break the wards protecting us?”
The Magician’s hands make a prayer gesture. “It will be our task to watch him. We ask only for your patience,” he says gently. “I feel the part he has to play will be revealed before long.”
“Why wait?” I ask. “Let him speak for himself. We’ve kept him gagged for our own safety, not to mention how fucking annoying he is, but perhaps he should decide his fate. If he’s truly beyond saving, he can prove it with his own words.”
Tellervo’s eyes narrow at the idea, and the forest hushes, as if holding its breath.
“You would set him free?” Tapio asks, tone suspicious as he strokes his beard.
“I didn’t say that,” I say firmly. “But let him talk. Let him state his allegiance. If he speaks about treachery, let alone attempts it…” I shrug, letting the gleam of my sword say the rest. “We have shown him we can kill Old Gods. He might be a shaman, but he is mortal.”
Rasmus’s eyes dart from side to side. The Magician steps forward and, with a careful flick of his hand, the mycelia retract slightly from Rasmus’ mouth, unveiling his lips but keeping his arms and legs bound.
Rasmus coughs once, finding his voice. When he speaks, it’s hoarse but clearer than before. “You think I’m a pawn,” he says, glaring at each of us in turn. “You think I have no choice, but I do.”