Page 58 of North Is the Night
“Wait,” I call after them, determined to call the witch’s bluff. “You said we could return to our rooms. You said we could choose bread and water.”
Slowly, Vammatar turns, glaring at me with narrowed eyes. “You would choose to leave your poor friends out in this dark wood all alone?”
I square my shoulders at her. “Better a deer, free in the forest, than to live as one more captive doll for you to twist and break. I choose to return to my room. I choose bread and water.”
Satu takes my hand. “And I. Bread and water.”
Vammatar glares at Lilja and Riina. “And you two? Do you choose bread and water?”
Riina’s hand tightens on her weapon, and I almost think she means to capitulate to her hunger, but then she tosses it to the ground at Vammatar’s feet. “Enough. I choose bread. Just take us back.”
Lilja has no choice but to agree. She tosses her bow to the ground. The four of us stand there, waiting for the witch to make her next move.
After a moment, Vammatar sneers. I can see it in her eyes; she doesn’t intend to suffer our insolence. Sweeping forward, she descends on me with her hand raised.
“Aina, no,” Satu cries.
I lift both my arms and flinch, ready to receive her vicious blow. A sharp caw echoes around the clearing and Vammatar curses, spinning away from me at the last moment. Swaying on my feet, I peek through my raised forearms. There, perched on a low branch, is my Jaako. He takes in the scene, ruffling his feathers and clicking his sharp black beak.
“Have you truly learned nothing?” Vammatar hisses at the raven. “Leave now. Don’t come back.”
I look back to the branch, heart racing, and Jaako is gone. My shoulders sag in defeat as I wait for Vammatar to turn and strike me down. “Leave the weapons and get back to work,” she snarls. “No one rests until you’ve earned the right, you ungrateful wretches.” Her gaze lands on me. “And wash off that blood, before you begin to smell as bad as Peuratyttö.”
We drop the rest of our weapons, and Inari leads the way back through the trees. We follow in her silent footsteps, saying nothing as we watch her walk with that odd, shuffling gait.
Ilmatar, hear me,I pray, taking in the looming outline of Tuoni’s palace.Do not let me die in this dark place. Help me. Show me the way.
Kukka meets me at the garden gate and follows me back to the weaving room. I step past her, moving down the rows of looms towards the back wall. I pass Loviatar too, standing at her loom. “Back so soon?” the goddess says. Is she relieved to know I’m still alive? Does she care at all? It’s impossible to tell. Her nose scrunches as I pass. Those sightless, white eyes turn my way. “You smell like blood.”
Reaching out with bloodstained hands, I take up a pair of knitting needles and a skein of black yarn. “That’s because I’m covered in Inari’s blood.”
Theclack, clack, clackof Loviatar’s warp weights goes silent. She waits as I cross the room to her side, dropping onto my stool. “Why are you covered in the quiet girl’s blood?” she finally asks.
I can’t bear to look at her. If I look at her, I fear I’ll break, and I refuse to cry in front of this witch. Instead, I feverishly cast the first knots on my knitting needles.
“Why do you wear the girl’s blood, Aina?” the witch asks again.
“Because I just killed her,” I reply, working my needles over and under, over and under. “Did you know?”
“Did I know what?”
I drop my hands to my lap and glare at the witch. “Did you know, when Vammatar came for me, what they would do to us? Do you help them, Loviatar? Are you part of this violence?”
She turns her attention back to her weaving. “I have nothing to do with my mother’s endless games.”
“Well, you are fortunate,” I reply, still glaring at the back of her head. “How nice for you that you get to sit back as we’re forced to hunt each other like animals.”
She turns with a scowl. “You think me fortunate?”
“I just opened a girl’s throat,” I cry. “She died right in front of me. Oh gods—Ikilled her!” I cover my face with my bloodstained hands, holding back a wrenching sob.
“And why did you open her throat? Is it possible she was already injured? Was it a fatal wound?”
My shoulders still, and I drop my hands to my lap. “How did you... were you there? Oh gods, were you in the woods? Did you stand back and let it happen—”
“No,” she says gently. “It was merely a guess.”
We’re both quiet for a moment.
