Page 157 of North Is the Night
“A prophecy foretold his coming. And Tuoni saw us in a vision. It was gifted to him by Loviatar’s daughter.”
“The hope goddess? She saw you with Tuoni? She saw you bear his child?”
Her words sink deep in my heart. “Oh gods... Yes, she is hope, isn’t she?” I smile, relief flooding my heart. “Her daughter is hope.” I drop Siiri’s hand and turn away, puzzling it out in my mind. “Tuoni’s most prized possession, taken from him too soon. He had to set her free so she could find me and set me on my path.” I close my eyes, My hand rises to brush over my abdomen. “You’re not a bad omen, my little love. You are the embodiment of hope.”
Siiri steps closer behind me, her hand on my shoulder. “Aina, as much as you may love the death god now, you know you cannot trust him—and he can’t keep you safe here.”
I turn around. “Whether I love him or not doesn’t matter anymore.Thisis the only thing that matters now,” I say, gesturing to my abdomen. “The prophecy must hold. This child must live. The other death gods don’t understand him. They want us both dead. I have to get us out.”
“Then let me help you. Aina, put your trust in me again. I know I let you down before. In the woods with Kalma, I wasn’t strong enough. I didn’t protect you—”
“That wasn’t your fault.”
“I couldn’t protect you,” she says over me. “But I can now. Aina, I swear it. Come with me, and I’ll bring you under the protection of Väinämöinen himself.”
“You know Väinämöinen?”
She smirks. “Who do you think taught me how to sneak in here? He’s been teaching me the ways of the shaman. He gave me these,” she adds, gesturing to her tattoos.
I smile, my heart lightening. “I met Mielikki. And Kuutarand I danced with Nyyrikki.”
Siiri gasps. “You did not.”
“I did... at my coronation feast.”
“Well, naturally,” she teases. “You’re a queen now. Pardon me for not bowing.”
I roll my eyes.
“I met Nyyrikki’s sister in the woods, and a nasty forest witch named Lumi. What was Nyyrikki like?”
“He’s an absolute cad,” I reply with another smile.
She grins. “The most interesting men always are.”
I laugh. “If ever you were to marry a god, I think it would be him. Either marriage or mortal enemies, I see no other alternative.”
We’re both silent for a moment, gazing into each other’s eyes.
I give her hand a squeeze, whispering the words that sit heaviest in my heart. “Do you hate me, Siiri?”
“No.”
“Don’t say it if you don’t mean it. Don’t give me hope where there is none.”
Siiri slips her bow onto her shoulder and takes both my hands. “I don’t know how to explain myself here...” She takes a deep breath, her blue eyes softening. “All souls exist in three pieces, Aina. Only three.Alwaysthree. You have them too. I’m here now in a piece of my soul. It’s the piece that loves you so fiercely, it will do anything to be by your side again.” She steps closer, dropping my hand to cup my cheek. “Being with you now, I finally understand the truth of my life. I don’t know what magic it is, but I know without doubt that my soul exists infourpieces.”
Her face softens as she smiles, her thumb brushing the corner of my mouth. “You’re the fourth piece, Aina. You exist outside of me. You are your own person, and you will go your own way, but I can’t be without you. So, I beg it of you now... let me follow.”
“Siiri...”
“I’ll ask for nothing else,” she says quickly. “Never, Aina. I wouldn’t do that. Just let me follow youeven into death.”
My Siiri is here. My dearest friend, my truest north. She followed me to the very depths of death. Of course she did. How could I have ever doubted she would? If there was one person sure to find a way to get to me, even in this dark place, it would be my Siiri. Now she’s holding out her hand, asking me trust her, asking me to follow her back to life. She wants to take me home. She wants tobemy home.
Heart in my throat, I grab the front of her coat and pull her to me. She sucks in a surprised breath as I press my lips to hers in a soft kiss of thankfulness. I hold her there, breathing her in. Her lips have always been the only softness in her. Otherwise, she’s all sharp elbows and harsh opinions. But her lips...
I’ve noticed them before—the way they frame her mouth when she laughs, the way she purses them when she’s frustrated. I kiss them now, tasting them. She tastes like salt and honey and, yes...
