Page 83 of North Is the Night
“A moment ago, you were a tree!” I drag both hands through my hair. “Before that you were a raven. Oh gods, this is madness. This can’t be real. No, no, no—”
“Aina...” He approaches as if I’m a startled doe. He’s so tall, his shoulders broad, even under the thickness of the wolf pelt. His aura pulls at me, luring me closer. My very blood hums as I feel a kind of need, an ache to be closer to him. Stepping away makes the humming louder.
“What is this?” I whisper, one hand over my heart. “This humming. This feeling.”
“I can’t be sure,” he replies. “I think it must be our blood bond.”
My brows lift in surprise. “You feel it too?”
He nods, pressing a large hand over his chest. “I feel you here, my love. I feel your fear, your hesitancy. It coils under my ribs like a basket of eels. It is... strange,” he adds with a smile.
“And I feel your surety,” I say, awed by the realization. His confidence sits like a stone in my chest, leaving less space for my doubt. He fears nothing. Why would he? I feel more too—his curiosity, his eagerness, his barely contained rage. He wants to kiss me nearly as badly as he wants to rip Tuonetar from her throne and cast her into a fiery pit.
“You’re afraid of me,” he murmurs.
I can feel him tugging at the threads of our strange new bond. Weighted warps tie us together. Like a weaver, he reaches out, plucking at each thread, testing it, learning how it fits within the tapestry of us.
“You fear I mean to trick you as Tuonetar did,” he says, so easily unraveling me. “You fear more cruelty, more violence.”
“Of course I do. How can I not in this dark place?”
“Tuonela is a peaceful realm—”
“You have been absent for a long time, my lord,” I say over him. “The Tuonela I know is a land of unspeakable cruelty, a land of senseless death, panic, and festering hopelessness. Even your daughters are sick with it.”
“Tuonetar is a curse on this realm,” he growls. “She infects everything with her poison. The Tuonela you know is diseased, Aina. It reflects her chaos.” He holds out his hand again. “Together, you and I will set it right.”
I feel him inside my chest, pulling at me through the blood bond. “Did you know this would happen? Did you know the marriage would bind us in this way?”
He’s quiet for a moment. “I hoped,” he admits.
I search his face, determined to understand. “Explain.”
“Others among the gods have completed the ritual of marriage in the old way,” he replies. “Tapio and Mielikki, Ahti and Vellamo—they are joined in all ways. They have children of their blood. So I knew what to anticipate. But as you are mortal, I expected it to feel more... muted. I am quite pleased at your vibrancy,” he adds, rubbing at his chest again. “The fragility of your life is like a tender flower blooming too early in a bed of snow. You’re so scared of death. It fascinates me—”
“I told you, my lord, I’m not afraid of death,” I counter. “I’m afraid ofdying. I’m afraid of how the Witch Queen will torment me.” Tears sting my eyes as I glance around. “This all feels like one more trick. And I still don’t understand—why did youdothis? To what possible end could you have need of a mortal bride?”
“Why does anyone marry? Is it not the condition of life to find someone to pass through it at your side? A partner and helpmate? Someone to share with you in all your burdens and triumphs?” He pauses, his expression veiled. “But all mortals come to me already dead. Can’t you understand? I seek the joy and wonder of watching a mortal live. I want to see it for myself. I want to hold your mortality in my hands and marvel at it, for you are so beautifully made. Do you not see how rare you are in this realm? How precious—”
“If you wanted to see how mortals live, then go to the realm of the living,” I cry. “Do not drag us down here to rot in the dark. You are utterly selfish, my lord. If you truly cared for mortals as you claim, you would never have done this to me, to any of us. You would seek us out in the light of day—”
“I cannot leave this place.” He speaks softly, his words swollen with sadness.
I go still, chest heaving. “No—I—Kalma, she came for us. And Loviatar said—”
“My daughters may leave Tuonela. They come and go at will. But I am bound to this place. IamTuonela, and it is me. I cannot leave.” He steps closer, taking me by the shoulders. “And Ineverwanted this, I swear it on my undying life. I never meant to hurt any of you. But Tuonetar has always wanted to rule on her own. She saw an opening, and she took it. I intend to repay her duplicity tenfold. I will take everything from her, and you will help me.”
“What can you possibly expect me to do beyond freeing you?”
“You are my wife, bonded to me by blood,” he declares. “Seal this marriage, and Tuonela shall be yours. Together, we will cleanse it of Tuonetar’s fetid magic. We will make it beautiful again, peaceful and pure.”
“Do I have a choice?”
He smiles softly. “Aina, you’ve chosen this every step of the way.”
My hands wrap around his wrists, my fingers brushing the cold metal of his chains. “What choices have I made, my lord?”
“You chose to save your Siiri,” he replies. “You had a choice to open your window to me as the raven. You had a choice to show me kindness, to share what little you had with me. I will tell you now that the others were not so kind. Most of the maidens never opened their windows, too afraid even to look out. Those who did never shared food with me. Some even fought to makemetheir next meal.”
