Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

DEATH

I follow the general who called me and hurry out of the front doors and under the raised portcullis, heading straight to the end of the barbican where a few troops have gathered.

They’re pointing in the distance, in the middle of the Star Swamp, their rifles raised and ready.

There’s a small, ragtag group of six people coming toward us single file, and at the very front of them stands my daughter.

Loviatar.

My heart soars, a gasp escaping my lips.

“Should we fire?” General Pekka asks, appearing beside me.

“No,” I growl. “Hold your fire! Lower your weapons! That’s my daughter!”

I push into their minds briefly for extra measure, and they all lower their guns in unison. At least I know they were more than ready to defend this place. That counts for something.

Lovia waves her sword at me in greeting and then starts running, her blonde braid whipping behind her. As she gets closer, I see the rest of her ragtag crew.

Vellamo, Tapio, Tellervo, the Magician, and…

Rasmus.

I let out another growl just as Torben comes to stand next to me.

“Oh my Gods,” he mutters under his breath. “What is Rasmus doing here?”

I give him a sharp look. “I don’t know, but if you let your fatherly instincts get in the way…”

He shakes his head. “I know he’s a traitor to his mother,” he says. “Even though that’s as much my fault as anyone else’s.”

I grunt. “Sort your family trauma out some other day. Keep that boy in check, or I’ll do it for you.” I wriggle my fingers at him, implying I’ll take off the gloves. “Lovia better have a damn good reason for bringing him along.”

Soon, she’s climbing up the stairs to the platform and running toward me, troops parting on either side of her to let her through.

“Father!” she cries out. She drops her sword with a clatter and runs straight into my arms. I envelop her, holding tight, as if loosening my grip for a moment might see her slipping out of my arms, never to be seen again.

“Lovia,” I manage to say, her name stuck in my throat. I never let myself really think about her much—too afraid, I suppose, of coming across an answer that would devastate me. But now that she’s here, in my arms, my only daughter, I realize just how much she means to me. All this time, I think I’ve been a good enough father, but I’ve been keeping my children at arm’s length, too worried about their duties or their roles to let myself be as involved as I should be.

All of that will change going forward.

Hanna was right. I owe them so much more than what I’ve given.

“I thought I would never see you again,” Lovia says, her words muffled against my coat. “This is the last place I thought I’d find you.”

“And I you,” I admit. I pull away, holding her by the shoulders. She looks pale, scratched up, a little worse for wear overall, but her eyes blaze with strength. “And Tuonen?” I dare to ask. “Where is he?”

She shakes her head, her mouth set in a firm line. “I don’t know. Tapio last saw him at Shadow’s End, where Salainen and Louhi have taken your places.”

I gulp and give her shoulders a squeeze. “Louhi won’t hurt him. She needs him. We’ll get him out of there, if he hasn’t escaped already. That boy is slippery when he needs to be.”

As before, I don’t let myself think of the alternative.

“I’m so very glad you’re here,” I add, giving her a tight smile. “I’m going to need you at my side.”

But my joy is short-lived, for the moment I look up and see Vellamo slowly approaching, I know something horrible has happened. I can see it in her eyes, the pain and sorrow swimming in them. They brim with tears; not for a happy reunion, but for grief.

For death.

“Where is Ahto?” I whisper. Usually, my brother isn’t too far behind. I glance over at Tapio and Tellervo as they gather around us, but they too share a similar haunted look, their shoulders drooping in defeat.

“Tuoni…” Vellamo says in her low voice. She steps forward, Tellervo taking the sword from her hands, and the Goddess of the Sea suddenly crumbles, dropping to her knees. I catch her before she hits the ground, hauling her up as she cries.

She grasps at my coat, and I embrace her, feeling sick to my stomach as she floods me with tears as strong and plentiful as a river.

And that’s when I know my brother is dead.

“No,” I say thickly, my chest caving in like a sinkhole. “It can’t be. It can’t be. How?”

She continues to cry, and at one point, I look down to see tiny minnows swimming in the pool of tears she has left on the ground.

“Killed by an Old God,” Lovia explains grimly. “The same thing happened to Mielikki and Nyyrikki.”

“Probably not the same God,” Tapio says, his voice rough. “But they’re out there, Tuoni, destroying us one by one. Soon, there will be nothing left of Tuonela.”

If I wasn’t holding Vellamo, I would crush someone’s bones under my hands; the rage that spreads through me is sharp, deep, vicious. Louhi’s Old Gods have not only killed my brother, my own beloved flesh and blood, but taken the souls of two innocents meant to protect the forest. Three of my brethren, lost to eternal torture in Oblivion.

I look over at Rasmus, at his flaming red hair, his smug, pallid face that can’t hide what he is underneath. Venom overtakes me, and I’m pushing Vellamo into Lovia’s arms and striding toward the minor shaman.

“You!” I bark, a ferocious rattle sounding in my chest, like an animal about to escape, about to attack.

About to kill.

“Tuoni, no!” Torben yells, running after me, but it’s too late.

I pull my glove off and reach out for Rasmus’ throat with my bare hand, prepared to squash his windpipe and send another soul to Oblivion.

Suddenly, without warning, my hand freezes, inches from his skin.

I stare into his eyes, and they peer back at me with nothing but the fear of death. Still, I can’t move.

What the fuck is happening?

I look over at Torben, figuring the shaman’s magic must be working overtime to try and control me, something I didn’t know he was capable of, only to find he’s staring at us in shock.

Then, the Magician steps out from behind Rasmus, his black sparkling hand extended from his flowing robe, finger pointed toward me.

“We need him,” the Magician says, slowly coming closer. “For more than this moment of revenge. You’d feel powerful for a second, Tuoni, but then his death would mean nothing. It won’t bring back Ahto, won’t bring back any of them. It won’t change the tide.”

Fuck . Why did he have to be right?

“You cryptic son of a bitch,” I grind out, glaring at his faceless form. “What are you even doing here anyway?”

“I’ve drawn all my cards,” he says, “except for a few up my sleeves. Now, please, refrain from killing Rasmus, as much as you want to. Trust that you need to keep him alive. Focus on saving Tuonela and not on petty revenge.”

“How dare you think my revenge is petty!” I let out a roar of frustration when I try to move my hand again. Close—I am so close, but the Magician’s magic is impossibly strong. “I should be able to kill whomever I want to avenge my brother!”

“But not him,” he says simply.

Now he’s the one I want to kill.

I bare my teeth at him, hating how I feel like a caged animal.

“This is part of it, Tuoni,” the Magician says. “You’ll understand it later.”

I groan, trying once more to move, but it’s futile.

And now, I’m painfully aware of everyone watching me. They’ve all seen the God of Death bested by the Magician. Why is he here? What is his purpose in all of this?

Finally, I sigh heavily and concede.

I move to drop my hand, and it falls easily to my side.

Rasmus is still staring at me, breathing hard through his nose, wide-eyed and shell-shocked. He knows how close he came to death, at least. For a second, I think about having another go at it, but I decide the Magician probably has a failsafe, some force protecting the ginger fucker.

Never trust a redhead—doesn’t the Magician know that?

I grumble and turn away, giving Torben a hard look.

“He’s your problem now,” I mutter. “Make sure to keep him out of my sight.”

Torben doesn’t look happy about it either, but he nods.

“So your magic can overpower a God?” Lovia says to the Magician, a tremor of hurt in her voice. “How come you didn’t do that earlier?”

The Magician folds his hands in front of him. “Because I only do what I can do when I can do it.”

“That makes no sense.” General Pekka speaks up.

“Never mind him or any of them,” I tell the general before I address the rest of the troops. “You all heard the Magician. No one touches the redhead. No one harms anyone else, for that matter, or you will answer to me, and no one will be there to save you. Now, let’s start making this a fortress and figure out our next steps.”

Even if I can’t have Louhi’s son, I’ll get my revenge somehow.