Page 66 of North Is the Night
We all glance over the Witch Queen’s shoulder to see a new goddess approach. This is the only daughter I haven’t met, but she’s just as haunting as her twin. She must be Kiputyttö, the goddess of pain. She has a hunched, haggard appearance like her mother, with large, weepy eyes and curtains of thick black hair that drag along the ground. Crossing the room, she passes Vammatar and takes hold of her mother’s bony wrist, staying the whip.
I hold my breath, afraid to move, afraid to even blink. Is Kiputyttö about to stand up to her mother? Is she about to put the Witch Queen in her place? Oh gods, is the rebellion starting now?
Tuonetar screams a primal scream that raises all the hairs on my arms. Outside in the courtyard, the dogs howl. Next to me, the other girls wince and shiver, hands over ears, trying to block out the sound. I clench my teeth, sagging with relief when she stops on a strangled cry.
“Mother,” Kiputyttö coos, her voice now soft and soothing, even as it grates like a boat scraping rocks. “You’ll tire yourself out, dearest. There areotherways of torturing them.”
My blood runs cold. Apparently, this is not the start of a rebellion. The goddess of pain reaches into the deep pocket of her robes and pulls out a small rune stone. She holds it flat in the palm of her gnarled hand and flashes us a cruel smile.
Tuonetar steps back, shoulders heaving. “Yes, daughter,” she says through panting breaths. “Always so clever. What a sweet girl. What a loyal child.”
“Bring my mother a chair,” the pain witch commands.
A dead servant shuffles forward with a stool, placing it before the Queen. Tuonetar sinks onto it regally, conjuring a goblet for herself with her wand. She takes a deep drink of the wine, letting some of the bloodred liquid dribble down her chin. Then she raises the goblet in assent. “Begin, daughter.”
The four of us stand there frozen. Next to me, Helmi and Satu squeeze in tighter. Kiputyttö turns slowly to face the girls still lying on the floor. With a menacing smile, she turns the stone over once in her palm. Lilja and Salla cry out, shrieking and writhing on the floor. Their bodies wriggle like fish out of water as the goddess of pain turns her little stone once... twice... three more times. Their tortured cries burrow into my chest.
Tuonetar watches disinterestedly for a few more moments before she holds up a hand. Kiputyttö pauses, her fingers closing around the stone in her palm, and Salla and Lilja go limp on the floor, overcome with pain and exhaustion.
“Now, let’s take a moment to talk about actions and consequences.” Tuonetar speaks to them like they’re a pair of naughty children who stole a handful of berries meant for a pie. “What action did you take that displeased me so greatly?”
None of us dares to move.
“I’m speaking to you, you wretched beasts,” she screams.
“We—tried—to leave,” Salla pants, unable to lift herself up on her shaky hands.
“Yes, you thought you could just swim across my river, and I’d be none the wiser, didn’t you?” Her voice drips with disappointment. “You were mistaken, for you are stupid and worthless.Say it.”
“We’re stupid,” Salla blurts as Lilja mumbles something that sounds like the word “worthless.”
“Sit up,” she commands with a wave of her wand. The girls are both yanked into a sitting position as though by an invisible hand. Tuonetar’s voice shifts to be all simpering sweetness again. “And why would I be so greatly disappointed by this deep and treacherous betrayal?”
“Because we’re your captives,” Lilja hisses through clenched teeth.
“You are myguests,” she corrects. “I have fed you and clothed you. I’ve provided warm fires and soft feather beds. Just imagine the poor, wretched souls above, trapped in life, toiling in the dirt like so many filthy voles. Here, your every need is met,” she says, gesturing around the stark emptiness of her hall, adorned with only the skulls of the dead. “All I have asked from you in return is that you help me without complaint. This was too much for you, apparently. I fear I can expect nothing less from ungrateful worms—”
“You are mycaptor,” Lilja shrieks. “You’re a monster, and you don’t deserve the title of Queen. I will never stop trying to escape. You’ll have to kill me, you horrible witch!” With that, she spits on the floor at Tuonetar’s feet.
My heart stops.
To my surprise, Tuonetar smiles, her teeth blackened and cracked. “Thank you for your candor. I wanted to know which of you first had the idea to leave, and now I do.”
I have to fight to keep my mind from playing tricks on me. Lilja looks so much like my Siiri. The same blonde hair, the same proud spirit, the same defiant will to live. Siiri would never have survived this place.Blessed Ilmatar, thank you for sparing her this fate.
“So, now we must turn to consequences,” Tuonetar says, a cruel glint in her eyes. “What should the consequence be for two ungrateful worms who so monstrously abuse the hospitality of their beneficent hostess?”
Lilja’s shoulders sag in defeat. “You’re right. It was my idea. Salla didn’t want to do it. She didn’t know I was tricking her.”
“Tricking her?” The Witch Queen tips her head to the side.
“I planned to use her,” Lilja admits. “I knew I could swim faster than her. She was to be my escape.”
“You needed bait,” Tuonetar clarifies. She turns to Salla. “Do you hear that? You were nothing but bait on a hook. Surely, that kind of treachery must come with some consequence. I’ll leave it to you to decide her fate.”
Salla looks stricken. “What?”
“She was using you, worm. She admits it,” the Queen replies. “Decide how she will be punished.”
