Page 36 of North Is the Night
“Lilja, are you all right?” Salla tries to reach for her.
“Everyone, stay alive,” Riina says again.
“Aina, don’t let go,” Helmi begs, her breath warm on my cheek.
I hold her fast, my grip tight enough to make my hand ache. But the soldiers jerk us apart.
“Aina,” Helmi cries, her face a mask of pain as her solider wraps bony, broken fingers around her middle and pulls her away from me.
“Helmi—”
“Aina, please don’t leave me,” she sobs.
Hating myself, I loosen my grip, letting her slip through my fingers.
“Aina—”
The soldiers drag her away down the dark hall.
“Stay alive,” I call after her, echoing Riina.
Inside my own head, a different voice says the words.Stay alive. I can almost feel Siiri standing at my side. I pretend it’s her tight grip on my shoulder.
Whatever you do, stay alive.
14
Siiri
Three days pass, andthere’s no sign of a bear anywhere. I’ve tracked all manner of animals—rabbits and squirrels, wolves, foxes, a lynx. I even spied what I was sure was a metsän väki running through the woods. He was small, no larger than a child, and so fast I could hardly make him out through the trees. But he laughed and rustled the branches, scaring Halla and teasing me, before throwing rocks at us and running off.
But no bears.
“The goddess’s instructions were clear,” I say to Halla for the hundredth time. “Go north. When the bear is ready to find me, he will. I have to keep the faith.”
Glancing around this grassy bogland, it strikes me again how very far from home I am. I’ve never traveled so far on my own. I promised Mummi I would return from the hiisi two days ago. She must be worried sick. I imagine her pacing in the yard, sending my brothers up to the north end of the village to watch and wait for my return.
But I can’t return yet, not when there’s still a chance to save Aina. Not when there’s a chance Väinämöinen can save us all. I feel the hand of fate on me now, holding me in a fist as strong as iron. A new story is being told, and I’m at its center. “Maybe they’ll sing of this one day,” I say, giving Halla a pat. “Brave Siiri and her noble Halla, off on a daring quest.”
The reindeer just snorts.
“You know, in Mummi’s stories, the women are always waiting for things to happen to them. The princess waits for her suitor by the roadside, the sister waits for her valiant brother’s return, the mother waits for news of her son’s untimely death.” I give the reindeer another pat. “This is a new kind of story. I’m not waiting for the shaman to find me. I’m striding out into the world, bow at my back and fire in my heart. I’m going to find the shaman and make him help us. We’re done waiting for the menfolk to hurry up and change things. If we want change, I think it must begin with us.”
I narrow my eyes at the grey sky. “Those storm clouds are getting thicker. We should stop and make camp before the storm descends. And I could do with a proper meal.”
Around midafternoon, we come through a stand of trees to find a stream crossing our path. It pools deep in spots before babbling around the bend of a low hill. It’s the perfect place to fish. Perhaps I’ll even indulge in a bath.
The goddess said not to tarry.
Aina’s voice in my mind makes me groan.
“Would you have me starve?” I say at the trees. Even as I speak the words, my stomach grumbles, squeezing in pain at its emptiness. I’ve only been eating what I can forage as we walk, saving the best of the foodstuffs for my return journey.
The reindeer gives me a doleful look. She’s used to a hearty dinner of piled hay every night. No doubt she’s hungry too.
“Two hours,” I say at last. “We’ll stop and rest here for two hours only. That hardly counts as tarrying.”
Halla just snorts.
