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 don’t hesitate—we start running, dragging Rasmus with us. Part of me wants to cut him loose, but I think that’s exactly what my mother wants. Yggthra isn’t just about destroying me and the Magician; it’s also a rescue operation for Rasmus.
The Hiisi Forest grows darker and thicker as we run deeper, the roots becoming tangled around us. Every so often, Rasmus grunts in pain as he struggles to keep up with us.
“Can you stop that thing?” I ask the Magician.
The Magician glances at me for a moment before looking back at Rasmus. “Not without help.”
“Can I stop that thing?” I add as we burst through a copse of white-and-red mist berry plants that leave long scratches on my arms and legs.
He gives his head a small shake. It makes me want to prove him wrong, but there’s probably something he’s not telling me.
“Yggthra wants Rasmus,” he says, confirming my suspicions. “Maybe we should give it what it wants,” he adds.
I come to a stop and give the Magician a bewildered look just as Yggthra crashes through the forest not far behind—much too close for comfort.
“You said we had to keep him because he might serve a purpose,” I quickly remind him.
“And what if this is that purpose?” he says.
Then, he drops the mycelia cord.
Rasmus stares down at it in shock.
“He can’t run away,” I point out. “He’s completely bound.”
The Magician shrugs. “That isn’t our problem, it’s Louhi’s. Come on.”
I blink for a moment, both happy to be free of Rasmus and yet feeling conflicted about it all the same. We captured him and brought him all this way just to let him go now?
But the forest erupts in chaos as Yggthra bursts through the ground again, yards away, its gnarled roots twisting and snapping like monstrous tentacles, and with a yelp, I start running again, the Magician by my side. The ground beneath us ripples and cracks, the air thick with the scent of deep soil and decay.
We run further, and I nearly lose my balance before the Magician pulls me behind a wall of ten-foot-tall ferns.
“Why are we stopping?” I ask him, peering breathlessly between the leaves. I spot Rasmus in the middle of the forest, facing the Old God as it comes for him.
“Yggthra,” the Magician says, his voice low and tense, “is confined to the forest. As long as we’re in here, it will find us, and we’re in deep. Running is futile until I know how Rasmus is involved.”
As if he can hear us, Rasmus, still gagged by the mycelia cords, turns to look back with wide, panicked eyes. His chest heaves as he struggles against his restraints, but Yggthra’s roots seem to reach for him with deliberate intent, weaving through the dirt toward his feet like a knot of snakes.
Rasmus looks back to the giant roots rising from the soil and lets out a muffled yell. For a moment, hesitation flickers in my chest—just a moment—but I harden my resolve and force myself to watch.
Yggthra’s massive trunk groans as it rises from the soil, its form like a skeletal tree made of blackened wood and shifting shadows. It looms over Rasmus, the roots coiling around his legs, his waist, and, finally, his chest. They tighten around his body, pulling him off the ground, but his expression isn’t one of relief or triumph—it’s terror.
“He can’t control it,” I say to the Magician. “Look. He’s afraid.”
Yggthra pulls Rasmus closer, roots tightening like a noose. At first, I think it’s just restraining him, examining him, figuring out if he’s friend or foe.
But then, it begins to crush him.
Rasmus screams against the gag, a sound so raw, it slices through me. “This isn’t Louhi’s pet,” I comment, panic swirling in my chest. “Yggthra doesn’t serve her. It serves itself.”
“Or it does serve Louhi and she’s cast her son aside already,” the Magician notes.
We both fall silent, watching as the roots squeeze around Rasmus’ chest, his feet dangling above the ground. There’s a sick cracking sound, and I don’t know if it’s a root or Rasmus’ bones.
“Damn it,” I growl. Without thinking, I burst through the ferns and sprint back toward the monster.
“Lovia, what are you doing!?” the Magician shouts from behind me, but I’m already there, slashing my sword at the nearest root. Sparks fly as the blade bites into the ancient wood, and Yggthra recoils with a deafening screech. Rasmus drops to the ground with a deep gasp.
The Magician appears beside me in an instant, his hands weaving sigils in the air. Tendrils of glowing energy spiral from his fingers then shoot down into the ground. Through the churned soil, between where the Old God’s roots emerge, thousands of white mycelia rise and wrap around them.
Yggthra thrashes, roots whipping through the air and slamming back down, breaking the mycelia’s grip in places.