Chapter 26

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

DEATH

A hush drapes over Castle Syntri’s corridors, a quiet unlike the tense silence that ruled before the battle. This hush is heavy with exhaustion and grief, but also with a fragile sense of relief. It has been three days since we drove the Old Gods and Louhi’s undead legion back, long enough for the numbness of shock to wear off. Now, the pain settles in: the loss of General Pekka and so many troops who trusted me, the wounds that may never fully heal, the knowledge that victory was only a reprieve, not the end of our struggle.

I stand at a narrow window in one of the castle’s smaller towers, looking out over the courtyard. Snow still clings to the ramparts, though the storms have calmed ever since Hanna reclaimed her mortality, and in turn, her personality. I have a fucking wife again, which is the only thing that soothes me in this uneasy aftermath.

The Star Swamp beyond lies quiet, its surface crusted with new ice. We fractured the enemy’s forces here, but they will return, stronger, and if I know Louhi, with newfound vengeance and brutality. I can feel it. It will not be long before she unleashes another horror upon us, making sure to really make it hurt this time. There’s nothing worse than a demon woman scorned—I should know.

The morning light filters through thin clouds, casting a cool glow over my gloved hands. Three days past, those same hands gripped a blade that sliced through Old Gods’ flesh, directed gunmen, tried to hold our fragile alliance together. Today, they tremble slightly; not from fear, but from the weight of what lies ahead. Even though my role as God has been to welcome and steer the souls of the dead, I find myself burdened with their fragile hopes. It’s not just the dead of the whole world, this one and the one above, but these troops I have manipulated into being here. I wonder if that makes me no better than Louhi.

But desperate times…

I glance up at the sky and wonder if the snowbird will ever return. So far, I haven’t seen any sign of my sister Ilmatar. I wonder if the bird got as far as Shadow’s End or if it met its demise along the way. Another soldier lost.

Footsteps sound out from behind me, and I turn to see Hanna entering the room. She halts in the doorway, her eyes scanning my face. For a moment, I see the fear in them, and it cuts me to the core. She might be her old self, but the cost of invoking her sun-gifted powers still haunts her. She has told me how, in that blazing moment of unleashing solar wrath, she nearly lost herself for good. How she’d looked at us with no recognition, how the world had become alien. Now, restored to herself, she’s terrified that using her powers again might erase her memories once more. She says the powers are still there, burning inside her like coals, ready to burn.

I beckon her closer. “Hanna,” I say softly. Her name carries a thousand emotions. Just a few days ago, I feared I’d lost her forever. Now, she’s here, her expression anxious but determined. So damned beautiful.

“My queen. My little bird,” I add. “Be with me.”

She steps forward, her hand tightening around the doorframe before letting go. She has regained her dark hair, her eyes their familiar chocolate brown.

“Where have you been?” I ask.

“I’ve been trying to think,” she whispers, voice low. “I know what we have to do next, but I’m…” She hesitates, words catching in her throat. “Well, I’m fucking scared, Tuoni.”

I reach for her hand, and she lets me hold it. I feel the tension thrumming in her fingertips. “I know,” I answer gently, curling her fingers between mine. “Your powers saved us, but they took something from you as well. No one expects you to wield them lightly again.”

Or at all.

She swallows, nodding, her eyes glistening like dark pools. “It’s like a living nightmare. I can’t stop seeing it play out like some bad movie. I remember looking down at you all and feeling nothing. It was as though the sun’s power scorched away my ties to this place, to you, to even my own father. That can’t happen again. If I forget myself, if I forget you…” Her voice trembles. “Well, I think I’d rather die than face that emptiness.”

My little bird has always had a flair for the dramatic, but I don’t like how grave she sounds.

“You won’t lose us again,” I promise, though I feel it’s a promise that might not be kept. “We will find another way. We have new allies to consider, remember?”

I gesture down to the courtyard, where soldiers re-pack supplies. Further down in the armory, Torben and Ilmarinen refine the sampo, their device to purify the ley lines and take down the rest of the Old Gods. If that works, maybe we can fight without relying so heavily on Hanna’s solar wrath.

She nods, biting her lip. “Yes, the sampo thingy. Whatever the hell that is. And the trolls, right?”

“That’s right.”

Her eyes dance with disbelief. “Like, for real? Actual trolls? Like straight from the Hobbit, or…?” She pauses. “Wait, you’ve probably never seen that one.”

“I have seen all three Hobbit movies, thank you very much,” I tell her. “That was a whole day I’ll never get back. And yes, like those ones. Maybe a little less ugly, and certainly not dumb. They’ll be good to have on our side.”

She laughs, a sound I’ve missed so terribly much. “Well, that does make me feel better about not being able to go full Goddess for you when you need it. So where are these not-ugly trolls?”

I smile wryly. “They arrived earlier. I have word they’re in the war room currently. We’ll go meet them together.”

The Keskellis are twenty-foot-tall trolls who once roamed lands beyond the Star Swamp. They got our message late, or so they claim, having sheltered in ice caves within the Frozen Void. Now, they come to offer their help. I’m curious what shape that help will take.

Hanna and I leave the tower, walking side by side through the halls, torches sputtering in drafty corners. Soldiers salute quietly as we pass. Some smile at Hanna with relief and respect—she is the one who turned the tide of the battle, after all. Others still show fear in their eyes, awed by her brief transformation. She acknowledges them with a nod, face carefully composed.

Such a queen, especially with her wearing one of Louhi’s leftover dresses, this one black with silver trim that matches my eyes. They look a million times better on Hanna. Everything does.

I sigh internally.

I’m certainly smitten, aren’t I? Certainly doomed, at any rate.

We enter the war room where the others are waiting. Lovia leans against a pillar, arms folded, trying to look calm, but I sense her impatience. Tapio and Tellervo sit close together, the Forest God’s beard threaded with leaves that have lost their color and grown brittle from stress. Tellervo’s antlers are adorned with a few stubborn flowers, wilted but still clinging to life. Vellamo stands a bit apart, her gaze distant, as though listening to unseen ocean waves. Torben is at one corner, staff propped beside him. Ilmarinen sorts through a crate of small metal components—arrowheads, runes, possible artifacts for the sampo. Rasmus, that redheaded weasel, hovers near Ilmarinen, eager to help, trying to prove himself. The Magician drifts near the back wall, galaxies swirling in his hood, inscrutable as always.

And in the center of it all, standing because there are no chairs sturdy enough to seat them, are the Keskellis.

All five of them.

Only five of them.

They are broad-shouldered, with rough, bluish skin, tusked underbites, and thick fur-trimmed garments. Their eyes gleam with curiosity and a certain gentleness you wouldn’t expect from twenty-foot-tall trolls. We exchange nods as we approach.

One Keskelli raises a hand in greeting, and his voice rumbles like distant thunder. “Greetings, Tuoni,” he says, pronouncing my name with unexpected familiarity. “I am Kaleva, elder of our small clan.” He taps his chest with a weathered hand. “These are my kin: Uljas, Mieli, Sihvo, and Tenko.” He points to each in turn.

Uljas looks stern and silent. Mieli has softer features and kind eyes, Sihvo is scarred and wary, and Tenko sports a bone necklace that rattles softly. Each bows slightly, as space allows.

Hanna’s eyes widen slightly, impressed by their presence.

“Kaleva,” I say with a nod. “We’re glad you’ve come. We feared our message hadn’t reached you.”

He rumbles a low laugh that shakes dust from the rafters. “We received your plea late. We were hidden deep in ice caves within the Frozen Void when the Old Gods rose. It took time to journey here, but we come as friends. Your fight is ours—this land’s fate affects us all.”

A murmur of approval passes through the room. We can use their strength. If these trolls can help us navigate the forests or hold against another assault, it might make the key difference. Still, there were hundreds of Keskelli at one point, and sheer numbers was what I needed.

“I don’t mean any disrespect,” I say carefully, “but I thought there were a lot more of you.”

“That was true, many moons ago,” Mieli says. “Back when we lived here, around the Star Swamp. Before Louhi slaughtered many of us. Those who remained took off to the frozen north to hide. But ever since the Old Gods rose, more of us have been lost still.”

Silence fills the room. I had no idea Louhi was doing this, but it explains a lot. I have to wonder what other creatures she destroyed in her battle for dominance here. Some God I am; I should have been protecting them.

I clear my throat, stepping toward the table. “We’ve survived one assault,” I begin, my voice echoing in the quiet hall, “but Castle Syntri can’t withstand another. The walls are cracked, our supplies low. The enemy knows our position, and they will return. We must move, and soon.”

“Where?” Kaleva asks.

“The Hiisi Forest awaits,” Tapio speaks up, “though it has been corrupted. We know it once bettered our enemies, but now… We must tread carefully. If we move under cover of darkness, maybe we can avoid direct confrontation. The Old Gods might be regrouping.”

Tellervo’s voice is soft but resolute. “The forest could offer some advantage still. My father and I can coax some of the trees, roots, and vines to our cause. They can regenerate under the worst-case scenarios. They always come back.”

Vellamo crosses her arms, shifting her weight. “Meanwhile, the river and the sea routes are waiting. With Ahto gone, my grip on the waters is diminished, but I can still guide small groups and my mermaids, maybe see if I can conjure the Devouress, Ved-Ava, and N?kki. If we split our forces—some through the forest, some by sea—we might surround any lurking threats or find safer passage.”

Hanna stands quietly beside me, listening. I sense her tension. I know she wants to help, to use her power. I squeeze her hand gently—no one demands she burn her memory away again. We have other tools now.

Lovia pushes off the pillar and steps forward. “We have the sampo being refined by Ilmarinen and Rasmus. If it can uncorrupt the ley lines, we might weaken the Old Gods’ hold. That was our original plan, wasn’t it? To lure them toward the Hiisi Forest and then break their power at its source?”

Torben clears his throat. “The sampo is close to completion. If we deploy it properly, we can restore balance to at least some portion of the land. That might strip Louhi’s minions of their unnatural strength. But to do that, we must be near the ley lines’ convergence in the forest. We cannot do it from here.”

“Then we must move tonight,” I say decisively, letting my voice ring out. “We can’t linger a moment longer. The castle’s walls are too damaged, and we have too many wounded. We have already waited too long. Another assault, and we’ll be trapped inside a ruin. We leave under cover of darkness, scattering our approach so we aren’t a single target.”

Hanna’s hand tightens in mine. I sense her nerves—night travel is risky, but staying is worse. The others consider my words. Tapio nods slowly as Tellervo lets out a breath of relief. Vellamo narrows her eyes thoughtfully then gives a curt nod.

Kaleva of the Keskellis rumbles, “We will follow your lead. We know hidden ways near the forest’s edge—paths less trodden. If some of us travel with Vellamo by sea, we can guard her flank. We Keskellis are strong swimmers, even in icy waters.”

That’s good news. I raise my eyebrows in surprise. “You would split your numbers?” I ask, concerned. “There are only five of you.”

Kaleva and his kin share a look. Uljas grunts, “We are five, but each of us can stand against a hundred Bone Stragglers. Dividing our strength still leaves us formidable.”

Mieli’s voice is gentler. “We want to be of use. The Old Gods threaten all life. We cannot hide forever in ice caves if we wish to preserve the future.”

I nod, touched by their resolve. “Very well. Two of you go with Vellamo by the sea route, three remain with us on land. I’ll let you decide who.”

Kaleva considers then points to Mieli and Tenko. “You both go with Vellamo.” Mieli smiles softly, Tenko’s bones rattling as he nods. “The rest of us will go through the forest.”

Hanna exhales, easing her posture. She raises her chin and addresses the room. “Then it’s settled,” she says firmly, and everyone looks surprised to hear her speak. “My father, Ilmarinen, and Rasmus will carry the sampo with the main group. The Magician can help hide our movement with illusions. Tapio, Tellervo, Lovia, Tuoni, and I will move through the forest, guiding the main force. Vellamo and her flank of Keskellis travel by sea, meeting us later near the forest’s far side before it reaches the Gorge of Despair.”

My heart blooms at her determination, at her taking control, getting involved and giving orders, like the true Queen of Tuonela.

My cock grows hot, and I have to swallow down my lust for her. This isn’t the time nor the place, but later, whenever we get another chance, I’ll remind her again that she’s my queen in every way.

The Magician inclines his hood. He says nothing, but I know he approves of this plan. He probably already saw it coming, that riddling bastard. Lovia stands straighter, ready for action. Torben and Ilmarinen exchange a look, determination etched on their faces. Rasmus swallows hard but nods—he has accepted his fate, cast his lot with us.

I consider the timing. Nightfall isn’t far. “We have a few hours to pack and prepare,” I say. “Gather only what you can carry. We travel light, swift, leaving nothing for the enemy to reclaim. The wounded who can fight, we take with us. The severely injured… We will find a way to keep them safe, even if it means reopening the portal.”

A heavy silence follows. The reality is grim—some may not survive the journey. Still, no one challenges me. We know what mercy and loyalty mean in times like these.

Vellamo steps forward, voice soft. “I will select a small band of troops to accompany me and the two trolls by sea. We will find a boat that can navigate the coastline. The Old Gods lurk in the waters, but I’ve faced them before, and they aren’t as numerous as the ones on land. If we’re lucky, we’ll slip past them.”

Tapio and Tellervo exchange glances before Tellervo speaks, “We will do our best to coax safe passage through the forest. Even corrupted trees remember ancient pacts. They may not open paths easily, but we can at least avoid the worst snares.”

Hanna looks down at her hands, flexing her fingers. I know what she’s thinking—that a single flare of her solar power could carve a safe route, but the cost is too high. She meets my eyes, and I shake my head slightly. Not this time. She nods, looking relieved and guilty all at once.

Lovia breaks the silence. “I’ll organize the archers and gunmen for the forest group. We’ll need eyes that can see in the dark, or at least follow faint moonlight. The Magician can help with that?” She glances at the hooded figure.

The Magician’s galaxies swirl. “I can weave gentle illusions to mask our scent and footsteps, perhaps sharpen eyes a fraction, but no grand spectacles—we must remain subtle, lest we attract unwanted attention. That goes for the shamans as well. Magic must be used with caution.”

The meeting lulls as we each absorb our roles. Outside, a gust of wind rattles the shutters. The mood in the room is grim but purposeful. We have a direction now, a plan to follow. Remaining here would mean inevitable defeat. We must move, strike where we have an advantage, and pray the forest grants us mercy.

I gaze around at each ally. Until recently, many of these faces were strangers or distant acquaintances. Now, we’re bound by blood, battle, and sorrow.

And the biggest factor of all: revenge.

“Go now,” I say firmly, ending the silence. “Prepare as best you can. Eat, rest if you can, tend to the wounded. We have only this chance. Make no mistake: the enemy will come again, harder. We must not be here when they do.”

As the gathering disperses, everyone filing out to begin preparations, Hanna lingers by my side. The Magician remains a moment, galaxies twinkling softly. I consider asking him again if he foresees success, but his silence is answer enough. He tips his hood and vanishes into the castle.

Now, it’s just Hanna and me, and I close the door softly, letting the muffled sounds of activity fade. She steps closer, searching my face.

“Tuoni,” she whispers. “I want to help, to burn the hell out of our enemies and ensure we never lose anyone else. But I can’t risk forgetting you, or anyone else, ever again. I don’t know if that makes me a fucking coward or what.”

I pull her into a gentle embrace. She rests her head on my shoulder. “We don’t need a blazing sun,” I say softly. “Just your presence, your guidance, your heart. We will find another way. I want you beside me, alive, remembering who you are, rather than wielding power that costs us your soul. Besides, I’ve seen you fight. You’re, as they say in your world, a badass."

She nods against my chest, relaxing into me. “I don’t feel very badass anymore.” She sighs. “All those MMA lessons I took made me feel powerful once upon a time, but now that I know what having true divine power is like? I’ve gone from Conner McGregor to, like, I don’t know… Someone who weaseled their way in, like Logan Paul.”

I don’t bother telling her I don’t know who those men are, but I hold her until her breathing steadies. Outside, the castle resonates with quiet urgency—footsteps rushing through halls, the clank of armor being readied, frantic whispers of what to do. The walls still bear scars from the battle, scorches where Old Gods screamed, fractures where horrors tried to climb. The memory of that violence weighs heavily, but we must move past it. The future lies beyond these wretched stones.

Eventually, we step apart and follow the others. We spend the afternoon in grim preparation—gathering what food remains, stocking weapons, organizing squads. I check on the wounded; some can walk with support while others must be carried on makeshift stretchers. The Keskellis offer to carry them, but the truth is, none of the wounded can go with us. They’ll slow us down and probably die in the process.

“We need to leave them behind,” I tell Lovia. Her face falls, but she nods, because she knows it must be done. “Go get Torben and have him open a portal to the other side. It’s their best shot. If we leave them here, they will die without anyone to look after them. At least once they pass into the Upper World, they’ll regain agency. I can’t say what they’ll remember, but they won’t be able to return here. They’ll be safe. They’ll find the trucks they abandoned in the forest. They’ll be able to get to the nearest hospital. We’ll send a few of their medics along with them, just in case, and keep a few for ourselves.”

At that, my daughter scurries off to find Torben. I feel bad about sending them back and having them fend for themselves in the middle of nowhere, but it’s the best thing for them, the only chance they get. I make a silent vow to uphold my promise, to offer them seats at the table when they pass. If I can give them all the most peaceful deaths in their golden years, then that’s even better. May they all die on the beach, old and grey, Mai Tais in their hands.

With Torben creating a portal, the troops guided by Lovia and some of the generals, Tapio and Tellervo confer with Rasmus about how best to coordinate signs—bird calls, flashes of foxfire—to guide us in the dark. Vellamo selects a handful of sailors from among our troops and plots a course to a dock in the Great Inland Sea that has a few boats we can push through the waterways.

I find Ilmarinen hunched over a small metal contraption in a side room. The sampo’s main component—two intricately etched metal spheres that grind against each other—sits in Ilmarinen’s lap as he polishes runes on its surface. It looks strange and fragile for something so crucial. If it works, we can restore the land’s balance along the ley lines. If it fails…well, we’ll find another way.

Night approaches faster than I’d like, the sky dimming to a pale gray. The snow outside glows faintly in the twilight. Gunmen line the walls one last time, scanning the horizon, making sure the enemy hasn’t returned prematurely. The wind howls softly, as if mourning our departure from these half-broken walls that sheltered us for a time.

In the great hall, I give quiet orders: torches doused, everyone ready to move at my signal. Soldiers stand in clusters, whispering farewells to the castle. They had gathered by the portal earlier, saying goodbye to their wounded brethren as they disappeared into the Upper World.

We take what we can: food, medicine, weapons. The Keskellis kneel, allowing supply packs to be strapped to their backs. Mieli and Tenko prepare to follow Vellamo across the star swamp to the west, Torben freezing the swamp over once more for good measure. I break my facade and pull Vellamo into an embrace, making her promise to meet us on the other side of the forest. My sister-in-law gives me a warm smile and says she will do her best.

Then, she and her chosen band slip away to the sea route, two giant trolls padding silently beside them, as if creatures of myth stepping into a forgotten saga. We watch them vanish into a drift of snow and night air. I already lost Ahto; I hope to the Creator I don’t lose her too.

Hanna draws a deep breath, her hand in mine. “We can do this,” she says, voice steadier now. “Right?”

I nod, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. Lovia stands to my other side, gaze sharp, determined.

At last, I give the nod. The last of the torches are extinguished, and we move out in a careful hush, heading across the frozen Star Swamp.

I glance back at the castle over my shoulder

Good riddance , I can’t help but think.

It provided what it could, but I hope I never again return to this damned place.