Page 46 of North Is the Night
Paavo laughs. “Did Kyösti at least get a taste before you killed him—argh—”
A roar splits the air. I feel the ground tremble beneath me, and then a massive form barrels over us, knocking Paavo aside. I pant, my body prone in the grass, bleeding from my neck and brow. Above me is nothing but grey sky.
Another roar. I roll onto my side and can’t quite believe what I’m seeing. A large brown bear has pinned Paavo to the ground. The trapper screams in terror, uselessly punching the giant’s face as it claws at him.
Then, the bear lowers its hulking snout, teeth bared, and rips the scream from Paavo’s throat, silencing him forever.
I lie there, winded. My head pounds; my limbs shake. Paavo had me pinned. I was facing the moment of my death. I had failed.Again.Now Paavo’s dead, and the bear’s soulful dark eyes take me in. With a low grunt, he steps over the dead trapper, blood dripping from his open mouth.
I scramble backwards, trying to stand, but I only manage to get to my knees, swaying. I cover my throat with one hand, feeling the severity of the cut. It won’t be fatal, thank the gods. I reach out with my free hand, desperate for my axe, but pause, hand pressed to the cold grass.
The goddess’s words echo in my mind:Follow the bear.
“Oh gods...” The golden-brown fur on his muzzle and around his eyes glows brightest at the tips of his fuzzy ears. “It’s you.” Ignoring my axe, I crawl forward. “You followed me all this way?”
The bear grunts again, closing the distance between us until I can feel and smell his hot breath. In an act of pure faith, I raise a hand towards his face. “They made me a killer,” I whisper, voice trembling. “They forced my hand. Otso, hear me, I’ll not harm your servant. May you strike me down if I ever raise a hand to you in anything but friendship.”
The bear steps into my hand, letting me stroke his face.
“I saved you from that pit,” I say, brushing my fingers over his thick fur. “And now you’ve saved me. A life for a life. The gods have linked us together, friend.” I swallow a startled scream as the bear licks my face from chin to hairline. He does it again, his stinking breath hot on my skin.
He follows me back over to where Paavo lies dead in the grass. He’s sprawled out, a gaping hole in his neck, eyes fixed. Inches from his lifeless hand, the handle of his axe waits. The sting of it still burns at my throat.
I’m a hunter and a killer.
So much senseless violence. So much needless death. This is my Finland now, a cold land where Finn turns on Finn. Where is our spirit? Where is our community? Out here, I can only trust the animals of the forest and the gods others presume are dead.
Dropping to one knee, I take Paavo’s axe. The memory of his fist twisted tight in my hair makes me sick. I shiver as I remember the feeling of Kyösti pinning me down, my long hair tangled, trapping me. In a fit of madness, I take his axe by the blade and slice through my hair with a sharp jerk, cutting it all until it hangs just above my shoulders. Holding back a sob, I drop my severed locks and the axe onto the dead man’s body. My blonde tresses cover him like a shroud.
“Keep it,” I say, spitting on his corpse. No man will ever use my hair as a weapon against me again.
From across the small clearing, the bear watches me.
“You found me for a reason,” I say to him. “I believe we’re meant to help each other.” The bear grunts his assent, and I smile. “You should know I travel north in search of Väinämöinen.”
The bear goes still, closing his mouth and narrowing those soft eyes.
“I’m told you know the way,” I continue. “I’m also told the shaman doesn’t wish to be found. But he’s my only hope. Without him, I will lose the person who means more to me than my own life. You see now what I’m willing to risk.” I point down at the dead trapper. “Only death will stop me. Will you go north with me? Will you help me find the shaman?”
The bear considers for a moment, studying me with his knowing eyes. Slowly, he nods.
“Very well, then. Let’s go, friend. Northward.”
17
Aina
Days have passed, andI’m still alive. My nights are spent in quiet comfort with Jaako. He still feeds me, using his magic to provide me with meals of roasted waterfowl and meat pies, sweet berry tarts. My father says ravens are messengers of death. They can cross the realms, taking away sickness and pain, sharing secrets of Tuonela.
I’m hoping, if I prove myself his friend, Jaako will send a message for me. I have to reach Siiri. She has to know I forgive her everything, that I would do it all again to spare her this fate. I need her to know I love her and I’m sorry I took away her choice. But I’m not sorry she’ll get to live. She deserves such a long and happy life.
Each night, I look to the raven, my request on the tip of my tongue. But I’m afraid of his refusal. He’s my only hope. I can’t bear to ask. Not yet. I’m not ready. But I also know I can’t tarry for too long. Each moment here could be my last.
And yet, each night, I curl up with the raven in my arms, and I stay silent.
Maybe tomorrow night...
Maybe...
