Page 104 of North Is the Night
“You remember that? Or do you speak of Kal’s memories?”
“They are one and the same, for he is me. As soon as we rejoined, I reclaimed myself.”
I can’t help but laugh. “All those days, I searched and searched for you, but you were by my side all along.” I hold his gaze, my mood sobering. “You saved me then, Väinämöinen. In helping me rescue Aina, you’ll save me again. How can I ever repay you for what you’ve done, for what you will do?”
He grunts dismissively, but there is mist in his eyes. “When it comes to saving maidens, it seems I can’t help trying to play the hero.” He picks up his drum, smoothing a weathered hand over the surface of the runes. “You call me a great shaman, but the title is undeserved. In the end, I couldn’t save any of the people I loved. I’ve failed so many times, Siiri. Sometimes it feels that all I do is fail.”
“You will not fail this time,” I say, praying my determination is enough to sustain us both.
He hands the drum over to me. “Let’s hope you’re right. Regardless, all the pieces of my soul seem to agree that we’ll save your Aina... or die trying.”
33
Aina
I clutch Tuoni’s handas he leads me through the palace gardens. Away from my room. “Where are we going?”
“A queen deserves a chamber befitting her status.”
I peer up at the north tower, Tuonetar’s new prison. The shadow of her tower looms over the palace, a constant reminder of how close I remain to danger. And I’m the one who decided to bring her out each night to sit at my supper table. If Siiri were here, she’d kick me in the shins and call me a fool. In this moment, I think I’d let her.
Guards swing open a stout wooden door at the base of the south tower, and Tuoni steps through into the stairwell. Taking a torch, he leads the way up the spiraling steps. I lift the sodden hem of my dress with my free hand, following him as we climb. We pass two landings with closed doors, climbing higher. I nearly lose my footing as he stops on the last landing before yet another closed door. With a creak, the heavy wooden door swings inward to reveal a large, circular room. Tuoni drops my hand to secure the torch in a bracket on the wall.
I step past, glancing around. The first thing I notice is the delicious smell—rosemary and mulled wine, roasted duck with stuffing, winter squash soup, fresh-baked pulla bread, buttery jam tarts. The evening meal is set on a table before the hearth, which burns with a happy fire. I walk past the chairs, my fingers fluttering over the soft furs on the four-poster bed. Thinking of the man standing behind me, and the purpose of this bed, I drop my hand to my side, heat blooming in my cheeks.
An ornate wooden cabinet stands in the corner. Opening the doors, I smile, brushing my fingers down the sleeve of a finely embroidered gown. One of many. If Loviatar had any say in their selection, I’m sure they’re all exquisite.
I glance to my right. A polished mirror is affixed above a dressing table. The table contains boxes and vials for cosmetics and jewels. A boar-bristle hairbrush rests next to a pair of golden hair clips. Catching Tuoni’s gaze in the mirror, I blush anew. I’ve never been alone in a room with any man except my father and brothers.
“The door locks from the inside,” he says, swinging it shut. The latch clicks with such finality, I feel it in my bones. I do my best not to tremble as he steps fully into the room. “And you have a much better view now.”
Taking any distraction, I step over to the closest window and unlatch the shutter. A gust of wintry air sweeps in as I take in my view of the garden and the sloping hills beyond. Tuonetar liked the palace to feel dark and dank. Tuoni clearly prefers warmth and light, even knowing the sun will never shine. I peer down into the walled garden. The trees and flowering beds lay concealed beneath a thin layer of fresh snow.
“How do the plants grow?”
Tuoni joins me at the window. “With soil and water and light, same as in the realm of the living.”
“But there is no light here, my lord.”
“Is there not?”
I turn, one hand clutching to the cold sill. “I’ve never seen a sun rise, nor any glimpse of moon or star.”
“Do you have to see a thing to know it’s there, to feel its presence?”
“Well, I suppose...”
“Turn around.”
I go still.
“Turn, wife.” He takes me by the shoulders, pressing against me as I face out the window. I don’t look down as his hands cover mine on the sill. “Close your eyes,” he says, leaning down, his breath warm against my ear.
Heart fluttering, I close my eyes.
He presses in until my hips are against the sill, his body firm behind me. “Now... tilt your face towards the sky. Keep your eyes closed. It is still night. The moon is waxing. Search for its light. Feel it touching your face, soft as a lover’s breath on your cheek.”
I tip my face up. I feel the cold, to be sure. The chill of winter has set in so quickly, hardly a week wasted on autumn. There is no wind. No birdsong. But there is... something. A feeling. A deep kind of knowing. It doesn’t put me in mind of a cool breath on my cheek. Instead, it feels like the eyes of Kuutar watch me from the sky, warm and inviting.
