Chapter 17

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

DEATH

Morning arrives, gray and cold, muffled by a gentle snowfall that hushes the world outside the castle walls. I stand in what now serves as my personal antechamber—a small room off the main hall—holding a cup of coffee close to my chest. The scent drifts upward, rich and warm, and for a moment, I let my eyes close and savor the aroma. This coffee is contraband, really. I had a general smuggle it down from the Upper World, a private indulgence I share with no one. Well, perhaps Lovia, if she asked. Which she thankfully hasn’t. The bitterness against my tongue reminds me of a time before all this madness. It’s a small pleasure amid so much uncertainty and despair.

Outside, the Star Swamp stretches beneath a blanket of delicate white flakes, the reeds bowed under the weight. All is still, but when you look closely, you can pick out all the troops below, camouflaged in the snow.

I drink slowly, letting the heat settle in my chest. I’ve already sent my snowbird off at first light. It darted into the pale sky without a sound, heading beyond the swamp to scout the lands. I never imagined relying on that tiny-toothed creature for reconnaissance, but times have changed. Every ally, every resource, must be used.

I finish the cup, savoring the last drop, and head into the hall. We’ve officially turned it into a makeshift war room now, bringing in tables and chairs from other rooms. Maps are spread across surfaces, plans scribbled on scraps of parchment. My generals wait there, along with Lovia and Torben. Outside these walls, guards patrol in the muffled hush of snowfall. Inside, tension crackles along with the logs in the hearth.

Lovia stands near a map of Tuonela stretched across a long, ironwood table. She taps her fingernails lightly on the wood, impatient. Watching Lovia with patient eyes, Torben leans on a black staff with a raven skull at the end, something he procured from one of the rooms. Perhaps it belonged to Louhi at some point. The other generals have formed a cluster at the far end, quietly debating routes and positions, as if Tuonela is just another part of Finland. As I approach, they all snap to attention. Even Lovia stands a bit straighter, though I catch the hint of a fond smirk on her lips when she sees me.

“Good morning,” I say. My voice is calm, a practiced steadiness. “Any updates from last night’s discussions?”

A stout general with a scar cutting through his eyebrow steps forward. “We managed to send the messages, Lord Death.”

Lord Death . I try not to smile. How I pride myself in making them call me that.

“Runners left before dawn for the Great Inland Sea and to the Frozen Void north of here,” he continues. “If we are lucky, the sea serpents and mermaids will respond and the trolls will come to our aid.”

Originally, Vellamo wanted to go to the sea to spread the message and Tapio wanted to seek out the Keskelli, but I’m not letting any God leave this stronghold. The Gods are not expendable. Like it or not, the troops are. They’re also less likely to be seen. They’ve been trained for it. The Gods are not used to hiding and will be found out in a second. The troops have written messages infused with Torben’s magic, which allows the recipient to hear it in the voice of the God. That way, they’re more likely to trust the messengers.

“Very good,” I say, nodding. “Torben, have you been able to strengthen our wards around the castle?”

Torben meets my eyes. “I have. I have also discovered a few spells with Ilmarinen’s help, ones that might give us extra protection in battle.”

Lovia’s eyes flick to the map. “We should ensure the wards align with natural choke points—the valleys Vellamo plans to flood, the narrow passes in the mountains, and the edges of the Hiisi Forest. If we can funnel them?—”

The generals nod. They’re soldiers, so they understand terrain, though this conflict is so far beyond a normal war. They mark down notes, muttering about supply lines and vantage points.

I lean over the map, running a finger along the drawn rivers and ridges. The River of Shadows still flows darkly, a thread through the land, and I worry Louhi’s forces might use it. “Speaking of the waterways,” I say, glancing at Torben. “Vellamo intends to manipulate the tides, but can we secure the banks? If they come by boat…” I shudder to think of the boat we use to ferry the dead being used by Louhi and her minions.

General Pekka clears his throat. “We can place gunmen and traps along the riverbanks,” he suggests. “If Torben can lay subtle wards there too, it might buy us time.”

I nod, pleased at the initiative. “Then we’ll do that. Every moment they’re delayed is a moment we can use.”

Lovia steps closer to me, lowering her voice. “What of Rasmus?” she asks quietly. “We know he’s not entirely trustworthy, but perhaps it’s time to see what he knows, to wring some advantage from him. He was helpful to me the other night.”

I straighten, considering. She’s right; Rasmus has been a thorn in our side, full of secrets and half-truths. If he knows something—anything—that can help us gain an edge against Louhi, we must have it. “Agreed,” I say. “Handle the strategy here for a moment. I’ll question him myself.”

Time to put my mind-melding powers to the test.

Lovia gives a curt nod. I know she hates being away from action—she’s been itching to get out there and fight already—but this is action of a sort. She’ll keep the generals focused, and Torben will keep the plans balanced.

I exit the hall through a side door and descend a short corridor to a small chamber, where Rasmus has been kept under watch. Ilmarinen is not here—he’s in the armory, forging the sampo—but Rasmus sits on a stool, guarded by two soldiers who straighten when I enter.

“Leave us,” I tell them quietly. They hesitate only a second before obeying. The door closes, and Rasmus raises his chin defiantly.

“Lord Death,” he says, voice dripping with sarcasm. “What can I do for you today?”

I ignore the mockery. I take my time, crossing my arms and regarding him. He’s still bruised, clothes rumpled. He knows he’s alive by my mercy—or rather, the Magician’s mercy. I loathe how that makes him feel more important than he is.

“You know Louhi better than anyone here,” I say evenly. “Or, at least you know this current version of her. You know how she thinks, how she strategizes. You were kept in this very castle by her side. Tell me what plans she might have. I want to know what leverage she counts on.”

He narrows his eyes. “What makes you think I’ll tell you? Your daughter already tried to interrogate me.”

I tilt my head, letting silence and my steady gaze unnerve him. Rasmus may be stubborn, but he’s not fearless.

“Because Lovia has told me your fears,” I eventually say. “I know you will favor only yourself, but you also know your own mother doesn’t care if you live or die. Unfortunately for me, the Magician does care. So, while you’re here, no harm will come to you.”

He continues to glare. “Until my purpose is served.”

I take a wider stance. “If your purpose is to help us win, then I personally won’t lay a hand on you. And I mean that literally.”

He tilts his head, mulling that over. “You’re not the only one here who wants me dead.”

“No one would dare. They want Louhi dead more,” I assure him, though it bothers me that I even have to. “Now, tell me what I need to know to defeat her. I know you know something.”

“Or what? You’ll try the same Jean Grey shit you’ve done with the Finnish troops?”

“I don’t know who Jean Grey is, but yes.”

He sighs, licking his lips as he looks around the room. “You know, this was my room before. I was under lock and key just as I am now. You really think she let me in on her plans? She kept me prisoner.”

“You still did her dirty work.”

“I didn’t have a choice. It was work for her or die. I’m sorry, but all I want is to save my own ass.”

I step forward until I’m looming over him. “You know something. Help us help you. Give me something we can use. Anything. What about Rangaista?”

“I never saw Rangaista. Louhi’s plan was to raise him in the crypt, some section that runs over a ley line…”

My brows raise. “The Sect of the Undead?”

“That’s it. She said she needed some more ingredients before she could call him forth. She said it would also release the saints from their prison.”

I picture the macabre statues lined up along the crypt and shudder. To think, that’s where Hanna and I got married. “Do you know what she meant by ingredients?”

He swallows audibly, running his tongue over his teeth. “Something about horns…”

Like a sword to the gut, I immediately know what she had in mind.

Either Tuonen’s horns or Sarvi’s.

Or both.

“Tuonen,” I whisper, quiet horror in my voice. “He was last seen by Tapio at Shadow’s End.”

Rasmus doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to. He knows.

“This won’t just be an attack,” I say. “It might have to be a rescue mission.”

Unless Tuonen escaped, but I can’t count on that, or on Sarvi, for that matter. They would be here already otherwise.

“I’d say she wouldn’t hurt her own son,” Rasmus says carefully, “but I have a couple of cracked ribs that say otherwise.”

I clench my jaw so hard, I think I crack a tooth.

“What else do you know?” I manage to ask, my hands curling into fists. Her goal will be to use Tuonen’s horns to conjure Rangaista, so she already hurt him. Now, I can only hope she has enough motherly instinct to keep him alive.

Or turn him against you , a voice says. I can’t bear to think of that right now. Either way, we’re getting him back.

I do my best to rein in my emotions as I bring my focus back on the attack.

“If she has Tuonen, she wants me to come and get him,” I muse. “She knows I won’t let go of my son so easily. She expects us, doesn’t she?”

Rasmus nods. “Yes. She knows you’ll go to her, but she’ll be ready. I really don’t think you’ll get to Shadow’s End without going through more than a few battles. The Old Gods are everywhere, as are the Bone Stragglers. Those fuckers have been waiting to exact their revenge on you for a long time, and that’s what she’s been counting on. You’ll have to get through all of them before you can get remotely close. They’ll be ready, and once you’re spotted, she’ll be ready too.”

I need to be strategic. “Boats on the River of Shadows—could she use them as a feint while sending another force through the forest?”

Rasmus nods begrudgingly. “You must expect attacks from multiple fronts.”

“Vellamo will have control of the river. She can take care of them. We will prepare to fight in the Hiisi Forest. It’s the best place for the Old Gods to hide and where Tapio can wield the trees to his advantage.” I realize I’m thinking out loud now and don’t really need Rasmus at this point. I clear my throat. “Very well. Be thankful you’ve been useful.”

I leave him there, guarded, and return to the hall. The generals and Lovia look up as I enter. “Rasmus confirms Louhi may have used Tuonen’s horns in a spell to conjure Rangaista,” I say grimly.

Lovia lets out a soft gasp, her lips curling into a sneer.

“I’m sorry,” Torben says.

“No matter,” I say with a wave of my hand. “I should have expected as much. It means she knows we’ll try and pull off a rescue mission regardless. She is expecting us to attack, which means the battles will start long before Shadow’s End. I feel the moment we hit the Hiisi Forest is the moment the real battle begins. But we can take control of both the forest and the river through Tapio, Tellervo, and Vellamo. If we can get there before they know we’re coming, we’ll have the upper hand.”

Torben taps the map with his staff, frowning. “Then we must strengthen the wards along the forest edge and the riverbanks both. That means splitting our meager resources.”

Lovia’s eyes flash. “We’ll have to be smarter than Louhi. If the forest is the main thrust, we put a stronger defense there.”

General Pekka suggests deploying scouts with signal horns in the forest canopy, but that’s too risky. She might hear them before we do. Torben proposes placing enchanted stones along the river’s edge to create illusions of safe passage, luring their boats into dead ends. It isn’t a bad idea, especially if Vellamo is using the river to flood certain areas.

The planning continues until my head aches with details.

At midday, I excuse myself. Lovia follows me into a corridor, and I beckon her to accompany me outside. “We need fresh air,” I tell her quietly. She doesn’t argue. We pass through a side gate and down a slippery path to the swamp’s edge.

It’s colder here, the snow drifting in fine flakes. The Star Swamp, usually half-frozen or at least chilly, now shows signs of thawing despite the snow. Water pools under the crust of ice, reflecting a dull, pale sky. The contrast is unsettling—snow above, thawing swamp below. The realm’s natural order is twisted. We must keep Torben’s spells strong if we want any hope of stable terrain. If the swamp shifts unpredictably, our plans will crumble, and we’ll lose most of our army.

Lovia stands beside me, her breath visible in the cold air. We walk slowly, careful not to slip. “It’s strange,” she says, voice subdued, “to see the swamp like this, as if it can’t decide on a season. As if it’s fighting us.”

I nod. “Torben may need to reinforce his spells. I’ll let him know. The power of Oblivion is strong, even more so in a land where Louhi’s influence has held steady for so long. Evil corrupts the natural order of things.”

She glances at me sideways. “When this is over, do you think things will ever go back to normal?”

I wish I could offer reassurance, but I’ve learned to be cautious with promises. “Not the old normal,” I say quietly, “but perhaps a new balance. Tuonela will heal, in time, if we can restore what was lost. We might be able to make it even better.”

Lovia’s gaze drifts over the pale reeds. “I’ve been thinking about Tuonen,” she says gently. “And Sarvi. I wonder if…if my mother would actually kill them…”

The fear gnaws at me, but I can’t show it. “Tuonen is clever—he would know to keep his head down until it’s safe. And Sarvi is resourceful.”

But I don’t doubt Louhi would dispose of Sarvi before anyone else. She hates that unicorn. Then again, she hates all things with an allegiance to me. Sadly, that might also include our son.

Lovia nods, blowing on her hands for warmth. “Still, I’m worried.”

I stop walking and turn to face her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I know,” I say softly. “I’m worried too.” Admitting it feels risky, but I’m her father. She deserves honesty. “I take comfort in knowing they’re not reckless. They’ll find a way to survive until we set this right.”

She meets my eyes, and I see her fear and resolve mirrored there. “You really think we can win this, Father?”

I inhale sharply, feeling the weight of all those who depend on me. “We must believe it,” I say. “I’m proud of you, Lovia, for everything you’ve done. You’ve fought bravely and faced horrors no one should have to. We may be battered, but we’re not broken. You’ve proven how strong you are, and I’m honored that you’re my general.”

Her lips curve into a small, grateful smile. It’s a rare tenderness, despite the duty and war that has hardened us.

She nods, shoulders a bit straighter. “Well, I’ve had a great teacher. I won’t let fear dictate my actions. You can depend on me, I promise.”

A part of me swells with pride. Through everything, my children have shown courage, each forging their own path. I fear for them, but I also trust them. Perhaps that trust will guide us through this horror to come.

We continue walking, careful steps on the slick ground. The silence is peaceful, broken only by distant drips of water as ice melts from branches and the occasional troops adjusting their rifles from their hidden vantage points. The Star Swamp reflects silver and gray in the fading afternoon light, and I think of the forces already gathering somewhere beyond the forest’s edge. Did the snowbird find them yet?

Night falls slowly, the sky darkening from silver to charcoal. We return to Castle Synti, entering through a side gate, where a guard nods respectfully. Inside, torches are lit, the hall warmer than outside. The generals and Torben have dispersed for now, each to their tasks. I sense that everyone is resting before the inevitable storm.

I settle by a window that overlooks the swamp, Lovia at my side. We say little, just watching the darkening landscape. My mind wanders to Tuonen and Sarvi again, hoping they remain safe, hoping this war won’t claim them too.

Then, my thoughts drift to Hanna. The longer she’s away from me, the more desperate I am to hold on to her. I wish there was some way I could communicate with her, just to remind her I’m here and waiting for her return, but the realm of the sun is like another dimension entirely. I have to find comfort in the idea that she might be watching me, right now, from all the way up there. I’m tempted to give her a wave, but I think Lovia might think I’m nuts.

A faint flutter of wings in the distance catches my eye, and I straighten and peer outside. There, approaching through the dim twilight, is my snowbird. It flies low, ghost-white against the dark. I hurry outside to the balcony where it first reappeared to me, Lovia trailing behind. We stand in the cold, watching as the snowbird glides on silent wings and lands on the railing.

Its eyes gleam with urgency. I raise my hand, and it steps onto my wrist, breathing fast, feathers ruffled. “What did you see?” I whisper, as if expecting it to answer. It cannot speak words, but I know how to read its mannerisms.

It lifts its head, pointing its beak toward the forests to the north. The message is clear: the Hiisi Forest. Something stirs there. Then, it flutters, turning to point toward the river’s direction. Two fronts. Two armies. I feel a chill, and not just from the winter air.

“They’re coming,” Lovia says quietly, her voice tense. She understands the bird’s signals as well as I do.

I nod grimly and look back to the bird. “Are they holding fort, or are they on the move, heading for us?”

The bird goes raises both wings straight up, a motion that says halt.

For now, they aren’t moving. At least there’s that.

“We have little time,” I say softly, stroking the bird’s head. It relaxes slightly at my touch, as if glad to have delivered its message. “We must prepare. If they’re already out there, expecting us, then this changes everything.”

Lovia’s eyes burn with fierce determination. “We must alert the others. Call an emergency council.”

“A general’s job,” I remind her before she nods and runs off into the castle.

I face the dark silhouette of the distant land, heart pounding with dread and resolve. Hopefully, we’ll hear back from Vellamo’s allies, as well as the Keskelli, soon.

I inhale the cold night air, my lungs filling with resolve. “We’ll make them regret coming,” I say out loud.

The snowbird chirps in response.

I glance at it. “I need you to go on another mission,” I tell it. “Find my sister, Ilmatar. Let her know Ahto is dead and we need her help. Perhaps that will spur her into vengeance. You can communicate with her, yes?”

The bird nods. My sister has always been able to communicate with the beings of the air. It is her birthright.

“Good. Then tell her we require her assistance here immediately. After that, I need you to fly to Shadow’s End. Fly above the clouds so you blend in and see if you can find Tuonen or Sarvi. Tell them the plans. If not, find the giant Vipunen and put forth a request for aid.”

The bird tilts its head. Perhaps all of this is a pretty tall order, but I’m counting on someone somewhere to understand this flying, furry dinosaur.

Then, it flies off into the darkness.

“Good luck, you tiny terror,” I say.

As I walk back into the hall, this time in darkness lit by torches, I feel the faint thrum of panic beneath my breastbone, but I also feel purpose. The final struggle looms, and though I’m scared—though I grieve and fear for those I love—I know I will not yield.