Page 144 of North Is the Night
“I cannot possibly lead the Finns,” I cry. “I wear these tattoos, but I am not a shaman yet. There is still so much for me to learn, a lifetime’s worth of knowledge I don’t yet have. You are the shaman of the ages. Yours is the return that was promised. The people needyou.”
“I do not wish for this end,” he says gently. “I am selfish and vain. I seek to live forever and a day. I merely offer this as an alternative to your painful demise at the hands of the Witch Queen. I offer my life for your lives.”
“She will stretch your death to last a hundred years,” I warn.
“I’d bet it lasts a thousand years, knowing how much she dislikes me.” He shuffles around under the table, placing a small wooden box between us. He doesn’t need to open it for me to know it contains the personal effects of the goddess of hope. “Take this with you. The witches will require an assurance from me.”
“All of this is unnecessary, because I will return with Aina,” I reply. “No one is dying, old man. And when I get back, we’re dealing with Lumi. Once that witch is in the ground, you’re coming south with us.” I tuck the box in the front of the dead man’s coat with the map. “Now that I’ve found you, I’ll not leave you again. Well... except now,” I add with a smile.
I move over by the fire’s edge and begin my smoke ablutions. I turn my attention to my drum, placing it on the edge of my knee. I take a deep breath, letting it out, seeking out that place of calm at the center of me. “I’m going now—”
“Wait,” the old man barks. “Siiri, wait.” He gets to his feet, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. His mouth moves like a fish out of water. All the words he wants to say remain silent and unspoken.
I smile up at him. “Don’t worry. You gave me everything I need. I’m ready.”
“Gah, you’re worse than a woodpecker,” he barks, pacing around to his side of the fire. “You’ve pecked, pecked, pecked inside my head.” He emphasizes each word by jabbing his finger at his temple. “I can’t get you out.”
“You know you love me.”
“You’re bloody insufferable!”
My smile falls as he paces. All Väinämöinen’s stories contain adventure and heroics, but they tell of something else too: surviving unimaginable loneliness. This old shaman has searched all his life for a place to belong, a people to call his family. Thwarted at every turn, he has never had his love returned. He is alone in the world—utterly alone.
Until he pulled me from the ice.
“Väinämöinen,” I say, my voice gentle.
The shaman stops his pacing with a huff.
“You know you love me,” I say again.
He sighs, shoulders sagging in defeat. “To know you is to love you, Siiri Jarintyttär.”
I smile. “I love you, too, old man.”
He goes still, my words swallowed by the silence of the hut, broken only by the soft crackle of the fire. He glares at me. “I’ll never forgive you if you die.”
“Then we are agreed. No one is dying tonight.”
“And nothing too heroic,” he warns. “Get your girl and get back here. Understand?”
I nod, his face the last thing I see as I close my eyes and begin to drum. The runes for Tuonela call to me: the raven, the wolf, the moon, the river. It’s time to cross over. It’s time to rescue my friend.
Hold on, Aina. I’m coming.
43
Aina
All around me, godsand goddesses scream, pushing against each other, desperate to escape the room. Darkness creeps in, and with it an unnatural cold. All I hear is crashing, smashing, breaking... and that laugh. Tuonetar’s feral laugh.
“Tuoni,” I cry out.
“Aina!”
I feel him pulling at the threads of our bond, and then a ball of flame bursts to life in his palm. His face is a mask of rage as he draws me to him with his free hand. Around the room, other immortals use their magic to create light. Kuutar’s hair shines like a star, rippling down her back as she runs for the door. Nyyrikki’s cape is alight with glowing toadstools. He bends protectively over his mother, helping her to her feet.
“Secure Tuonetar,” Tuoni bellows. “Protect your queen!” He lobs the fire in his hand up towards the antler chandelier. The candles magically relight, still leaving half the room in darkness.
