Page 107 of North Is the Night
It’s the tang of the death.
The death god is in me as much as he kneels before me. I know with a knowing marrow-deep that I can never root him out. Swallowing my fear, I lift my trembling hands and brush my fingers through his hair. Flecks of ash from the alder tree flutter loose, landing on his shoulders. I freed him from that prison. I bound him to me with blood and oath, pulling him from the fires of Tuonetar’s broken curse.
The awesome truth hits me as he leans away, his gaze full of longing as he looks in my eyes. The death god is in me. I am his. But this was binding magic. Two souls were required. If he is in me, then I am in him. If I am his, then Tuoni ismine.
Heart racing, I cup his bearded face, smiling down at my raven. “I want to know you. I want to know Tuonela. Show me everything.”
34
Siiri
“What is this?” Isay, pointing to a freshly painted rune on the face of Väinämöinen’s drum.
“That’s you.” He winces as he folds his knees under himself by the fire.
The new rune looks like the figure of a person riding a bear. I smile, remembering our escape on the frozen lake. “Why did you add me to your drum?”
The shaman makes a frustrated sound. “Because if I’m forced to follow you, reckless fool girl, I need something to guide my way. I suggest you add me to yours as well.”
I look down at my new drum. Väinämöinen made it for me over the last two days. He watched, carefully instructing me, as I mixed wood ash and animal fat to make ink to paint the head. Then he walked me through the precise placement of each rune as I painted it.
A line across the middle of the drumhead separates the realm of the living from that of the dead. The center line is broken in the middle by the sun. “Will you add my rune to your hand?”
He grunts in assent. “The tethering must be completed. You’ll have to do the same.”
My skin prickles at the thought of the needle piercing my skin. As often as I am injured, I don’t enjoy pain. “Will we do it now?”
“No, we work with only the luonto today. That’s the easiest piece of one’s soul to master. You have to prove you can rend yourself at all before we attempt to set your itse free. And there’s no need to be tethered when you use your luonto. As you’ll see, you won’t lose your sense of self in quite the same way.”
“Why not?”
He considers for a moment. “The bird embodies only the strongest pieces of your personality. The rest of you remains with your body. You’ll feel its tether, even if you cross realms—even if you cross time.”
I go still. “I can cross time? Now?”
He glares at me. “Focus, Siiri. Aina is not lost in time, she’s lost in death. Your task is already insurmountable.”
I nod, looking down at my drum again. Nervous excitement flutters in my gut. “What if—” I swallow the rest of my question.
He grunts in frustration. “Gods, help me. Speak, girl.”
“What if I can’t do it?” I say before I can stop myself.
“What?”
“What if I can’t release my luonto?”
He glares at me, mustache twitching. “Have you been poisoned?”
I blink. “What? No.”
“You didn’t eat any questionable mushrooms for breakfast?”
“No—”
“Did you take a great fall? Hit your head, perhaps? Lose consciousness?”
“No,” I say again.
