Page 70 of North Is the Night
The crack in the ice rumbles beneath me, right between my braced hands. All around, the wolves howl. Lumi’s glowing staff signals her approach through the mist.
I flip onto my stomach and push myself up. I have to get off this ice. I have to—
Crack.
The ice splits between my feet. One moment I’m standing on solid ground, the next my axe drops from my hand, and I’m falling backwards, my weight tipping a floe of ice high into the air. My arms windmill uselessly through the air as I crash into the black water. A thousand tiny knives stab me all over, stealing the air from my lungs, as I begin to sink. The shock of the cold water nearly paralyzes me.
Swim, comes that soft, soothing voice.Fight, Siiri.
The goddess is here. She’s with me. I am not alone. Hope burns in my chest. I’m not ready to die. I’m not ready to give up.
I kick for the surface, fighting the weight of my sodden furs. My feet are useless in these boots. My hands hit ice above, and I scream, bubbles of air erupting from my lips. The floe has righted itself, trapping me. I pound on it with my fists to no avail.
Above me, Kal roars, throwing his weight downward. The ice sheet shifts, and I surface, buffeted by the water as it breaks around the floes. I gasp for air, coughing and sputtering, looking for anything to hold onto. I’m so weak, I can’t pull myself out.
Two wolves leap over me out of the mist. With a panicked roar, Kal rolls backwards, and the floe comes crashing down. I barely take a breath before I’m forced beneath the surface again.
Keep fighting, Siiri, the goddess urges.
I fought to the bitter end. When the ferrywoman asks me how I lived and how I died, I can tell her I was a fighter. But there’s no fight left in me now. I fought, and now the fight is over.
Come back to me, Aina whispers.
I’m coming, Aina. Wait for me. Beloved, I’m coming.
In the icy depths, I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with cold water, surrendering my life.
Come back...
23
Aina
Kukka gives me agentle shove through the door into the weaving room. I’m in a daze. My body feels cold, numb. I can’t stop hearing Salla’s and Lilja’s screams of pain. I watched the life leave their eyes. I watched Kalma drag their bodies away. I can’t close my eyes anymore. If I do, I see them all. Pale Inari, dead by my hand. Dead Lilja. Dead Salla. If I push their faces away, more take their place. Dead Siiri. Dead mother. Dead brothers.
So much waste of life. So much pain and suffering. Too much.
It’s all too much.
A cool hand on my cheek. Soft words. “Come, little mouse.”
I think a part of me might be dead now too. Can one be both alive and dead? I think it must be possible. I think we can die in parts. I died a little the night Kalma took me from Siiri. I felt it. Something escaped me in that moment when the darkness took me. It left and never came back. I am less now. Less Aina.
If I stay here for long enough, I fear the Witch Queen will find a way to take all the best parts of me. That’s what she does. Her Beer of Oblivion erases the soul. It leaves you hollow and empty, carved out. Her captivity is a different kind of carving. It will be bloodier and take longer. Gods help me, I think I might beg for her brew before the end.
Hands press on my shoulders, and I sink onto a stool.
“Bring her some water.”
A cup is pressed into my hand, but I can’t grip it. It slips through my fingers, rattling to the floor, the water spilling.
“That’s all right,” the witch soothes. “Aina, you’re safe now.”
I blink, focusing on her face. “Safe?” I hear myself say. “There is no safe. Not in Tuonela.”
Loviatar’s cool hands cup my face, her white eyes catching the light. “I won’t let them take you again.”
She shouldn’t make promises she can’t keep. It’s too cruel.
