Page 154 of North Is the Night
The other guard turns to see at his companion in the snow, a vacant look on his face, as the second arrow slams through his temple, piercing his opposite cheek. He drops like a heavy bag of grain. The two guards in front turn to look at the pair of fallen bodies. They draw their swords, peering through the darkness with unblinking eyes.
The closest guard grunts in surprise as I launch myself at him, axe in hand. Ducking right, I slam my axe into the forehead of the guard. My momentum tumbles us both to the ground. I roll on my shoulder, pulling my knife free as I clamber to my feet.
The last guard takes up a fighting stance, sword held in a rotted hand. He’s tall and broad-shouldered, like Onni. He’ll have strength on his side. I need to use speed. The Onni-like guard steps forward, ready to swing his sword overhand at me. I dart to the side, passing my knife into my other hand. Dancing around him, I stab it into the guard’s barrel chest. He howls, dropping to one knee. His gangly arm reaches around with unnatural flexibility as he grabs me by the throat.
I gasp, kicking, as he lifts me into the air, squeezing tight. I wrap both hands around his wrist, trying to break the iron grip of his fingers. The guard’s vacant eyes lock onto mine and his head tips back. His mouth opens wide, and I know he’s about to sound the alarm. Reaching for his face with both hands, I grab him by the lower jaw and jerk it downward with all my might, tearing half his face away as he screams. His unnatural howl is cut short.
He drops me onto the ground, and I scrabble in the snow, leaping to my feet with a discarded sword in hand. With a mighty swing, I lop his head from his neck, and he falls forward. I barely get myself out of the way as his heavy weight thumps down.
I stand amidst the carnage, dead bodies strewn about me, and take a few deep breaths, swallowing around the sharp pain in my throat. That was too close. I was distracted and clumsy. I can’t let it come that close again. Remembering myself, I turn around to face the wall, my eyes narrowing on the heavy wooden door that Aina just passed through.
I smile.
The door is ajar.
47
Aina
I stand under thesnowy branches of the willow tree, heart racing. Tuoni is prepared to cast me out, which means I got my wish. I can return to the land of the living. I can see the sun rise again. I can see Siiri again.
But at what cost? What mother could accept her own freedom at the expense of her child’s? How could I ever agree to wait here, nurturing Tuoni’s son, growing him in my belly, only to give birth and place him in the tender arms of Kalma?
“I will die first,” I say to the willow’s barren branches.
I have his oath, at least. Tuoni will return me to the land of the living. That gives me nine months to stay alive, seek alliances, grow my power, and convince Tuoni to let me leave with our son. I’ve already survived almost two. With Tuoni’s son inside me, he and his allies will be overprotective. Nothing can reach me inside these walls. He has assured me of it. He goes now to review all his fortifications. I’m safe—
I frown at the hollowness of the words in my own mind. The chill that overtook me out in the field rushes over me again. I can’t pass through those woods without thinking of the first night... the night Inari died.
The night you killed her.
No, I can never be safe here, not even from my own memories. It happened again just now, standing out there in the snow. I looked to the trees, and I sawherstanding there. The birch trees always watch me with those unblinking eyes, but this time a woman stood in their shadow. I know it was Inari, forever lurking in the hunting wood. Dreaming or waking, I can never be rid of her ghost.
A sharp rustling makes me turn. “Gods—Kukka, you scared me,” I say with a little laugh.
The dead maid holds a foraging basket out to me.
I search her face, noting her hollow expression. “How strange is life that a dead maid is now my one true and loyal companion?”
She makes no response.
I take the basket from her hand, and we both walk towards the herb garden. “My mother always says that in troubling times, there’s only one thing to do,” I say. “Make a good cup of tea. Would you like to help me?”
Kukka sways slightly, which I’ve come to interpret as her sign for “yes.”
I drop to my knees at the edge of the first flowering bed and begin to collect herbs. Lowering my face, I breathe in the comforting smell of marjoram. It reminds me of my mother’s kitchen. That little memory has a soothing effect on my soul—
Twang.
I go still, all my senses suddenly tingling. I know that sound.
Beside me, Kukka drops to her knees. An arrow is buried in the back of her head, the sharp tip protruding from her eye. A look of surprise is frozen on her face as she falls forward into the snow.
“Kukka!” She’s heavier than she looks as I fight to turn her over. I already know what I’ll see if I look in her face. She’s gone. Deadagain. I’m alone and exposed in this courtyard. It would only take one arrow to finish me too.
A firm hand clasps over my mouth, and I squeal, my whole body going rigid. “Tuo—”
The hand stifles my scream as a strong arm encircles my waist. My assailant hauls me up out of the snow, dragging me away from Kukka’s body. I fight, jabbing with my elbows and kicking with my feet as I’m dragged back under the dark curtain of the willow tree.
