Page 127 of North Is the Night
He grabs my wrist and turns my hand over, his thumb brushing over the tattoos for Tuonela. “What did you do? What dark magic infests you, sister?”
I groan. Did I not think the same thing when I first saw the tattoos on Väinämöinen’s hands? “It’s not what you think. I’ll explain if you’ll just come home with me—”
He drops my hand as if burned, his shoulders tensing. “This is a test of my faith. You’re not really here, are you?” He glances around wildly, clutching his club tighter. “She’s not here. The Lord is testing me with visions. He means to trick me into confessing my doubts—”
“Confess them,” I cry. “How can you believe in this foreign god when you saw Kalma for yourself? And I tell you now, all the others are real too—”
“Liar,” he growls, taking a swing of his club.
I shriek, dropping to my knees to avoid the impact that nearly takes off my head. “Onni, are you crazy?” I scramble to my feet. “I’m not dead, you fool. I’m Siiri, and I’m alive. I’m with Väinämöinen. We’re trying to save Aina—”
Onni’s eyes flash with anger. “Aina was a heretic, the daughter of a witch. There was no hope for her. The Devil took her.”
“Kalma took her, you complete horse’s ass! And she was your friend as well as mine. I’ll prove it to you. I’ll prove to you all that she still lives. Just give me time—”
A shrill whistle from our left has the rest of my plea falling from my lips. Brother Abbiørn and Onni aren’t the only zealots in the woods tonight. Turning from me, Onni walks towards the clearing. I duck around him, darting between the trees with the speed of a rabbit.
“Siiri, stop!”
Onni chases me, but I’m faster. I burst through the trees into the clearing. “The Christians are coming! Everyone, run!”
Those closest to me shriek. My name spreads like wildfire.
“Siiri?”
“Is that Siiri Jarintyttär?”
“Kalma, protect us from the dead that rise,” an old man intones.
“She’s a ghost come to haunt us!” a woman shrieks, clutching at her child.
“I’m not dead,” I shout. “But you may soon be! You must leave this place—”
Before I can finish my warning, the shouts of men fill the clearing. From all sides, men in habits matching the priest’s come marching through the dark, clubs at the ready.
“Turn away from these acts of false idolatry!”
“Repent of your pasts and live in the Light of His Way!”
Screaming erupts all around me. I don’t know where to look as the priests start smashing whatever they can reach, determined to stop our heathen celebration. Feast tables and chairs, baskets of food. Cookpots are tipped into the fires until the air is filled with hissing and the smell of burning food.
“This woman is Satan’s child!”
Turning around, I see Brother Abbiørn. The hood of his habit is thrown back and he points a finger at me. His cronies continue to smash things, setting fire to the bear’s feast, dashing it into the mud and snow. All around us, women and children scatter. Some of the men are fighting back. Neighbor turns against neighbor as scuffles erupt. A few priests are dragged to the ground.
“Repent, all ye who sin!” one shouts.
“Turn to the Light!” calls another.
“There is nothing to repent,” I cry. “Do not listen to them! You’ve done nothing wrong! Aina did nothing wrong!”
“The Word of God is clear and true,” Abbiørn calls over me. “Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live. Seize her!”
“Siiri, no!” Those two words, called out in my grandmother’s panicked voice, are like a bucket of ice water poured over my heart.Gods, what am I doing? How did I get here? I can’t be here now. I can’t save them, not like this. Aina is the one who needs me. And I need her. Our people need her. She will be proof of the gods’ power. Our gods took her, and our gods helped restore her. Our gods live.
Ilmatar hear me, Aina has to live too.
“Seize the witch,” Abbiørn shouts, spittle flying from his lips. “She means to blight us with her magic words.”
