Page 101 of North Is the Night
I glance over his shoulder once to the beacon that is his palace on the hill. Tuonela. My home. There can be no going back now. I made this bargain. All that remains is for me to survive it. Taking my husband’s hand, I let him lead me away from the dock, away from the land of the living, deeper into the Kingdom of Death.
32
Siiri
Väinämöinen sits across fromme at the table, his drum balanced on his knee. The runes dotting the hide are almost identical to the faded markings on the shaman’s hands. “Make us some tea.”
“Tell me about your curse,” I counter without moving. “What do you mean you can’t die? What did Tuonetar do to you?”
He sighs, setting the drum on the table with a soft rattle. “It was my punishment for thwarting her, for stealing from her. She called on her coven of forest witches to curse me. Ajatar led the coven, Lumi’s mother.”
I gasp. “Ajatar is Lumi’s mother?” I know the name of this witch well. Mothers teach their children to fear her. For a moment in the sacred grove, I thought Tellervo might be Ajatar, the forest witch who hunts the hunters. She curses lonely foragers with her nightmares. She climbs onto your chest while you sleep, stealing your air and breaking your bones.
Väinämöinen takes in my look of horror and scoffs. “I take it you know Ajatar?”
Slowly, I nod.
“A nastier witch has never drawn breath on this side of the veil,” he mutters. “She was all too eager to help Tuonetar curse me. I think she only agreed because she expects Lumi to be the one to fulfill the curse and claim my magic. And poor Lumi thinks claiming it will fix what’s broken inside her,” he adds. “She thinks my magic can make her worthy in her wretched mother’s eyes. She has no idea what this will cost her. To possess the knowledge I do... to hold it in my head and my heart... it’s not a gift, Siiri. It’s an awesome and terrible burden.”
I hold his gaze. “A burden it may be, but it is your duty to give your wisdom to the people, and you left.”
He goes still, his blue eyes searching my face. “Siiri—”
“You left your people when we needed you most,” I shout over him, my frustration rising. “You’ve spent all these years hiding in this godsforsaken wilderness while your people suffered. We’resuffering, Väinämöinen.”
“That’s not my fault—”
“When you left, the stories stopped,” I say over him. “No new wisdom. No songs. Your leaving was like the first fall of snow. The other gods grew silent too... then they grew distant. We were left freezing in the winter of your indifference. Then foreigners swept up from the south with stories and songs of a new god, bloodthirsty and vengeful. They’re taking everything from us. And we’ve been too broken to notice, too alone and scared to fight back.”
His face looks haunted. “Siiri, please—”
“You left us to save yourself. You say a shaman can’t use knowledge for selfish acts, but that’s exactly whatyoudid. Your wisdom is meant to be shared, but you used it to hide yourself away up here—”
“I had no choice!”
I rise to my feet. “There isalwaysa choice! Look at me,” I cry, raising my arms out to the side. “Look at Aina. Look at how we’ve fought for each other, how we’re ready todiefor each other before ever giving up. Finding you was never just about saving her. I meant to bring you south with us. I meant to bring youhome. You belong with your people, Väinämöinen, as Aina belongs with me. Your magic belongs to the people. It is not yours to hide away. It never was.”
A tear slips down his weathered cheek as he gazes up at me. “Help me, Siiri. Save me from myself.”
After a long moment, I nod. Sinking to my knees, I face him across the table. “I will help you. Gods as my witness, Väinämöinen, I will fight for you. If it comes to it, I will die for you. You are my shaman, the son of the blessed All-Mother.”
He reaches a rune-marked hand across the table, and I take it, holding it tight.
“You need never be alone again,” I assure him. “I am here now, and I will never leave you again. I didn’t leave you as the bear, and I will not leave you as the man. All I ask is that you fight for me as I fight for you.”
Slowly, he nods.
“Help me rescue Aina, and then I’m bringing youbothhome where you belong.”
We sit in silence, the crackling of the fire the only sound between us.
After a few moments, he smiles, that blue twinkle returning to his watery eyes. “Tell me, Siiri, what do you know about soul magic?”
Once we’re settled at the table with cups of yarrow root tea and a fresh loaf of rieska, Väinämöinen reaches for his pipe again. After he lights it, he picks up the drum with both hands, his pipe clenched between his teeth. “To cross over into Tuonela as a shaman, you need to understand the power of soul magic.”
I gaze at him warily. “Isn’t that how a piece of you got trapped in the bear?”
He huffs. “Well, that was a bit of soul magic gone awry, but yes. The kantele is used to work with väki—useful in spellcasting, necromancy, healing, and the like. The drum is the key to crossing the realms. Do you understand? Without the drumming, you can’t release the pieces of your soul to go awandering.”
