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)
Tapio turns around and eyes us, his lashes wet. “I hate to leave this place. I think perhaps it would be easier to die here, to become one with my wife and son.”
“No, Father,” Tellervo pleads, grabbing his burlap cloak in such a way that reminds me of a little girl terrified to lose the one person she has left. “Don’t speak like that. We must move on. Please.”
After we discovered their bodies, we buried them, said a ceremony. We took our time even though we knew time was of the essence. The forest responded in kind by swallowing their forms, making them one with the root system and all living things, enabling them to live on forever in some ways.
Still, deep down, we all know the truth, that their souls are forever lost to the void of Oblivion. It’s something I try not to think about—how extra fragile we are now, how we’re all one wrong step closer to that eternal agony.
Tapio sighs, a tear falling freely from his eye. I curse the Creator for giving us Gods such human-like emotions. I don’t care if it’s supposed to be the very thing we can use against Louhi. I’d give anything to be like the Magician, to have such distance from the things we’re going through and the things we must do.
I don’t want to feel anything, especially not this.
“All right,” he says to his daughter, giving her shoulder an affection squeeze. “We continue. It’s not as if the forest isn’t compromised anyway.”
He raises a hand to the trees and looks at them with such gravity, it makes my chest ache. “We will return to you soon, after we avenge Mielikki and Nyyrikki’s deaths. Take care of the creatures, big and small, of the living beings from sprout to cedar.”
We all take a moment of silence, respecting the forest and their Gods. The birds and squirrel that lived in Tapio’s beard reluctantly leave, heading to the trees, chittering sadly as they go.
I let go of the Magician’s hand and walk over to the Forest Gods.
“Let me guide you the rest of the way,” I say gently, though I make sure they notice my sword at my side. “You have done so much for us already.”
He nods, conceding with ease.
I motion for the Magician to join me, but he shakes his head. “I’ll stay back here, keep an eye on any trouble from behind.” I know he means to keep Rasmus in line as well.
As much as I feel stronger and less alone with the Magician by my side, I know it’s time for me to lead. I can’t wallow in the fear of it all. If there’s no one else left in my family, then I have to step into my role as Goddess and do the things my father and brother can’t. I’m sure as hell not leaving that task to my mother.
I start walking with purpose, keeping my pace quick. The further away from the forest we get, the more exposed I feel. Every now and then, I glance behind me at the trees, and I swear I see glowing eyes watching us through the leaves, though I can’t tell if they’re from the creatures and fairies themselves, wishing our safe return, or something malevolent.
Eventually, the grass disappears and becomes hard ground, and then snow crunches under our boots. The shrubs grow more stunted as we move on, the red of the snowberries standing out against the white, but this is a good thing. Yes, we’re more exposed, but when you can’t see around the bushes, it only makes you paranoid that something is lurking behind them, waiting to pounce.
After a while, snow starts to fall from the sky, and I can’t help but think of my father. If he’s here, do his moods still control the weather? What does it mean? Snow is a fairly neutral emotion; I suppose that’s better than a thunderstorm.
We trudge on. The further north we go, the thicker the snow gets, gathering on my eyelashes. Every now and then, I look back at the others—Tapio’s beard is thick with snow, Tellervo’s antlers icicles. Rasmus is shivering, his mortality on full display. Only the Magician seems unbothered, gliding along with ease.
Eventually, we come to a stand of thin trees, the only semblance of a forest in these frozen parts. I decide to skirt around them instead of cutting through, not trusting what could be lurking amidst the spindly trunks, when, suddenly, I hear a wail.
Not just a wail—a blood-curdling scream of anguish.
CHAPTER TWELVE
LOVIA
I freeze, raising my hand to tell the others to stop and quiet.
The wail came from inside the thin woods.
I glance nervously behind me, wondering what we should do.
I’m about to ask Tapio if he can communicate with the flora outside the Hiisi Forest when he says, “Wait.”