Page 123 of North Is the Night
“My mother says names hold deep magic,” I reply. “There is power in knowing a name, and you have kept your daughter’s name from the stories and songs for generations. I was under your power, and now I will have you under mine. Tell me your daughter’s name.”
The witch is quiet for a moment. “You’re right, Aina. A mother’s love is as fierce as a winter storm. I have spent a lifetime protecting my child. I fear my voice can no longer speak her name.”
Setting my anger aside, I place my hand on hers. “This is not a punishment, Loviatar. I vow to you: I will not hurt her or you. This istrust. My trust with you is broken.Youbroke it. If you ever want to repair it, you know the road.”
Slowly, she nods.
Feeling overheated and overwhelmed, I rise to my feet. “If you demand a punishment, let it be this: You will not leave this realm in search of your daughter before I hear her name from your lips.”
“Aina, no—”
“As Queen of Tuonela, that is my command.”
Loviatar leans back against the wooden wall with a softly muttered curse, her eyes shut in frustration.
Nursing my own pain, I leave her there. Stepping back outside, I hurry through the snow on bare feet, not even feeling the cold as I run naked to the end of the wooden dock. My skin prickles with the cold as I peer into the black water. A shadow of my reflection looks up at me. I frown at her. I hardly recognize myself. Aina Taavintyttär is sweet and kind. A summer berry, Siiri calls me. To her, I am a paragon of goodness and gentleness. I am peaceful and even-tempered. That’s what men like in a wife, and a wife is all I was ever raised to be.
Now I am someone’s wife, and my every feeling revolts at becoming more like that girl in the water. What did goodness and kindness earn me in this dark place? I have been abused, neglected, tricked, manipulated. My peaceful nature meant I rolled over and watched as others around me fought and died for their freedom. Used by the Witch Queen to torture Tuoni. Used by Kalma to free her father. Used by Loviatar to reunite with her daughter. Used by the others for cruel entertainment. And here I stand, too scared to fight, too timid to demand justice, too shy to admit even to myself the way my body betrays me at Tuoni’s every look and touch.
Rage boils inside me. It has to come out, this hate, this fear, this agonizing feeling of betrayal. Stretching my arms out wide, cold air brushing my naked skin, I let out a feral scream. It echoes out across the water, rippling my reflection. I inch my toes to the edge of the dock, ready to leap—
Clang.
My dead guards stand at the other end of the dock. They slam their swords against the metal of their shields, making that awful noise again. “What are you doing?”
Clang. Clang.
“Stop it,” I cry. The sound sets my teeth on edge.
Kukka slips past them, stumbling forward. Her dead eyes are wide, making the first true expression I’ve ever seen: fear.
A chill slithers down my spine, coiling around my gut. “Kukka, what’s wrong—”
Kukka points over my shoulder.
As I stand there on the dock, cold toes curling around the edge of the wood, something creeps across the dark surface of the water. “Oh gods...”
The shadow creature elongates, taking form, rising up off the water until it steps onto the end of the dock. It looks like shadows stitched into the form of a man, but the proportions are all wrong. It’s impossibly tall, with narrow shoulders and lanky arms. The legs are uneven. It walks with a halting gait, making no noise as it moves. Its eyes are white, blinking like two stars.
I hurry back to Kukka’s side. The dead maid takes my hand in hers, pulling me between the two guards. They square off against the shadow monster, their swords held at the ready. I give the maid’s clammy hand a squeeze. “Go,” I say on a breath. “Fetch Loviatar.”
Kukka hesitates, torn between defending me and following my order.
“Go,” I hiss.
Kukka hurries off towards the sauna. I stand in the snow, naked as a babe, watching as the shadow lets out a bone-chilling screech. It grows to twice its size, its hands lengthening into talon-like claws. It strikes out at the guards, those talons scraping across the metal of their shields. The guards parry, but the blades of their swords simply pass through its body.
“Help me,” I whisper to the dark.
The creature makes quick work of the guards, smashing them to the ground with a few strikes of its powerful hands.
Behind me, the door of the sauna blasts open. Loviatar strides out, an open robe around her naked shoulders. “Kalma,” she shouts, her voice laced with the magic of summoning. “Aina, get back,” she adds at me.
A jet of light whirls through the air, passing right over my shoulder. It’s a flaming torch, thrown by Loviatar. The torch passes through the shadow with a grotesque crackling sound. It clatters down to the dock before tumbling off the side, the flame extinguished in a hiss of steam by the dark water. The monster shrieks, its shadowy center reforming, the embers sewing themselves back together.
All the creature’s attention is now on the goddess. It creeps forward on silent feet. Gods, it smells like death. It smells like Kalma.
“You ought to be asleep,” Loviatar calls to it. “You dare come here seeking to feed? Away with you!” She swings with her open hand as if to slap the shadow. It recoils, clearly afraid of her touch. But then it takes a step closer.
