Page 29 of North Is the Night
At last, the cross tips forward, and I shriek, falling with it. In a thunderous crash, it cracks in two against the top of the altar. Panting, I roll off, looking down at my handiwork. The false god’s idol is broken. This hiisi belongs to the old gods again.
Behind me comes a soft chuckle and a familiar voice. “I don’t think the foreign god will take kindly to you desecrating his temple.”
11
Aina
My door swings opento reveal a dark hallway. No one is standing there—man, monster, giant, or goblin. The doorway is empty. My breath leaves me in a huff, my shoulders sagging with relief... and disappointment. I stand still, staring at the open door. This is what I wanted, right? I wanted this door to open. So why am I just standing here?
Because you’re a scared goose, comes Siiri’s voice.
If I were Siiri, I’d already be out the door. But I’m not Siiri. I’m just Aina. And I’m afraid.
I take a candle off my table, inch closer to the open door, and peek outside. One end of the hall vanishes into shadow. The other is lit with a glowing torch. I glance over my shoulder one more time, looking in at the confines of my room. My window stands open, but Jaako is gone.
Suddenly, a voice cries out. “Hello? Oh please, someone. Hello!”
It sounds like a frightened young woman. It’s her fear that has me stepping through the open door, although I’m still afraid myself. Holding my candle aloft, I walk towards the voice. As I pass a dark hallway, the young woman appears, limping in my direction. Like me, she wears an elegant dress, this one sky blue with a rich, red fox fur around her shoulders. Blonde braids frame her youthful face.
“Are you my captor?” she asks, her eyes wide with terror. “Or are you... like me?”
I drop my free hand away from my thrumming heart as I lower my candle. “It’s all right,” I say, gently. “I’m like you. I’ve been locked in my room for days.”
“Where are we? Why are they doing this to us?”
“I don’t know.” I give her the support of my arm. “What happened to your ankle?”
She shakes her head, her bottom lip trembling. “I don’t know. I-I can’t remember. I w-woke with it aching days ago. It was p-purple and swollen.”
“Come, let me help you. Let’s keep moving towards the light.”
“No,” she rasps, pulling on my arm.
“We won’t learn anything staying in our rooms,” I assure her. “Lean on me. We’ll go together.”
Slowly, she nods, gripping my arm tightly as we creep down the hall.
“My name is Aina.”
“I’m Helmi,” she replies.
“Where are you from, Helmi—”
“Shhh.” She pulls me to a halt. “What’s that noise?”
We both listen. From farther down the hall comes a humming sound.
My heart flutters as my steps quicken. “Come.”
“Aina,wait,” she begs, pulling on my arm.
“I think it’s people.”
It sounds like a gathering of some kind: many voices, raised in celebration. On cold winter nights when the villagers all gather in one barn to celebrate a wedding or death, these are the sounds I hear. The sound swells as we creep out of the dark hallway into a large room with a closed door at the other end. Five young women stand huddled together. They turn at the sight of us, surprise and fear etched on their faces. They all wear queenly dresses and furs without any confidence. I know they must be simple village girls like me.
“More girls,” one whispers.
“You’ve been locked away?” another calls. She flicks her dark curtain of hair off her shoulder, her icy blue eyes narrowed at us.
