Page 175 of North Is the Night
He can’t swing his weapon without hitting me, so he lets the wolf knock him to the snow. Väinämöinen’s sword falls from his hand as the wolf sinks its teeth into his shoulder, shaking its head to tear his flesh. Väinämöinen cries out, blue light glowing from his open mouth. He punches the wolf in the muzzle again and again.
I regain my footing, and swing at the wolf. “Get off him!”
Behind me, Lumi shrieks too. “No! The shaman is mine. Let him go!”
The massive russet wolf releases Väinämöinen, and the shaman pulls himself across the snow, trying to escape Lumi. He pushes up to his knees, his hand covering the gushing wound at his neck. He has no weapon. He needs time to recover. As much time as I can give him.
Rushing forward, I throw myself between Väinämöinen and the witch. She takes in the pair of swords I wield and smiles. The dance is on. We circle each other, parrying and jabbing. Lumi is so fast, even using only her left hand. I’m no match for her. But I don’t need to beat her. I just need to give Väinämöinen time to get to his feet and get his sword. He can use his magic. Together, we can finish the witch.
Lumi’s blade flashes through the air. I overcorrect, and she jeers, cutting deep into my arm. I cry out, the sword loosening in my grip. I let it drop to the snow. Lumi steps forward, eyes flashing with victory. I stagger back, lifting my remaining sword to block her next blow.
The witch suddenly stumbles away with a shriek. An arrow sticks out from her injured right arm.
“Nice shot,” I call over my shoulder.
“I was aiming for her head,” comes Aina’s reply.
Lumi raises a shaky hand to the arrow, wincing in pain as she pulls on it. She looks from me to Aina, her eyes narrowing with rage.
Väinämöinen has found his feet. He bleeds freely from the neck. Placing a firm hand on my shoulder, he plants himself behind me. I square off to face Lumi with only one sword, ready to defend him to the death.
“Siiri.” His voice is quiet. “I’m ready.”
My eyes flash with rage as the witch approaches. “I won’t let her take you from me.”
He leans against me, his massive frame nearly three times my size. His breath is warm on my neck. “Siiri... I choose you.”
I look over my shoulder into his clear blue eyes. The color is draining from his face. In this moment, he looks truly ancient. His eyes are full of tears. They aren’t tears of sadness or anger. They’re tears of joy. Tears of peace.
“You saved me the day we met in that pit,” he says. “You brought light back to my life and made me whole. My fierce, wild Siiri.” He brushes my cheek with a bloody hand. “Take what I offer. Finish this witch, and keep your Aina safe. Keep the people safe.”
“Don’t you dare,” I cry, tears thick in my throat. “Don’t do this, old man—”
“I was never going south again,” he says. “I’ve been dying for years. So, finish the job. Become the new Väinämöinen. Set me free.”
Across the snow, Lumi jerks the arrow loose from her shoulder. “You’re mine, Väinämöinen! For so long, I’ve waited for the moment when you would be whole again. You and your little shamaness cannot thwart me now.Ifound your itse. I trapped it in that bear and drove it north. I’ve earned the right to claim your magic!”
“You’ll never take him from me!” Raising the witch’s sword, I flip the grip of my left hand on the hilt.
Lumi charges me, snarling like one of her rabid wolves. I hold my blade with both hands and swing high. Lumi has no choice but to lift her own and parry. But I shift direction mid-swing. Anchoring my foot in the snow, I plunge the blade backwards.
Väinämöinen is ready. He steps into it, bracing against me with both hands. I let out a sob as the blade meets resistance. The sword pierces him straight through. His hands tighten on my shoulders as he takes a gasping, pained breath.
“Nooooo!” Lumi releases a primal, haunting scream before she lunges for me.
Aina’s next arrow whizzes past my shoulder, piercing the witch in the chest. She stumbles, still screaming, and tries to jerk the arrow free.
“Siiri...” The shaman grunts against my ear. “Let me call you ‘daughter.’ Just once—let me—”
Closing my eyes, tears falling, I twist the blade in his gut. “I love you, Father.”
His hands weaken on my shoulders. I can feel the life leaving him. I jerk the blade free, and he sinks down to his knees. Blood pours from his neck and his gut, staining the snow red. He looks up at me, the light of his magic flickering in his eyes. “Daughter,” he says again, trying to raise his trembling, bloody hand. I take it in mine, pressing my cheek to his palm. “Needed—will we be—again—”
I nod. “I will go south,” I whisper. “I will return your wisdom to the people. I will fight for them, Father. I will fight to free the Finns.”
He nods, closing his eyes, relief washing across his face. Slowly, he falls back into the snow.
“No,” I cry, dropping to my knees. I close my eyes against the pain of watching him die, but a blinding white light has me opening them again. Väinämöinen’s whole body is glowing. I glance from the shaman to Lumi. The witch sways like a reed, blood pouring from her wounds. She blinks to keep her eyes focused. As we both watch, the ghostly form of Väinämöinen rises up from his body. He looks down at me and smiles, his mustache twitching.
