Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
HANNA
We travel by moonlight, Tuoni’s moods stable enough for the clouds to part, the way lit by Kuutar, the Moon Goddess. I can feel the moon’s rays burn on my skin as if the sun itself, briefly illuminating the heavenly runes and sigils my powers once embossed on me. They are dormant, but they’re there, just under the skin, and I’ll be damned if I haven’t been wrestling with this dilemma every step of the way.
It has been hours since we left Castle Syntri, passing over the Star Swamp, past frozen plains where the wind bites, past sparse woods of aspen, where sleeping reindeer lay beneath the trees. We’re now within sight of the Hiisi Forest, a dark shadow in the distance beyond these low shrubs laden with berries. I can see it all clearly—I guess being a Goddess also means having night vision, which is a pretty cool perk.
I glance over at Tuoni as we walk beside each other. His focus is straight ahead at the looming forest, brow furrowed in stark determination. The two of us walk at the front, a few generals, Tapio, and my father flanking our sides. To our left, a couple hundred yards away, is another set of troops, led by General Suvari, Tellervo, and Ilmarinen, along with two trolls. To our right, across the same distance, is Lovia, leading Rasmus, the Magician, and the remaining troll with the rest of the troops. Somewhere far beyond them and unseen to us is Vellamo, two trolls, another garrison of soldiers, and hopefully a few sea creatures, all traveling on the waters. We don’t actually know if Vellamo is there, but we have to believe she is, preparing to meet us on the other side of the forest where the river dips in.
I look over my shoulder at the troops as they march behind me, silent and stern, some with rifles at the ready, but more with bows and arrows, since bullets are in short supply. Many carry swords and shields, making it look like a couple of timelines in history have gotten mixed together.
It’s unethical, what Tuoni is doing. I’ve told him that much. To manipulate the minds of innocent soldiers and force them into battle is a little, well…let’s just say that has never panned out well in the annals of history.
But perhaps ethics don’t count for much when it comes to saving the afterlife. This is one part where I think Tuoni wishes I’d squash my morals and think a bit more like the unfeeling Goddess I am. Perhaps he’s right. When I was off doing my Doctor Manhattan thing and viewing the world and the humans in it as something trivial and insignificant, morals definitely didn’t come into play.
I don’t want to go back to that, though. I fear it. In that state of grace where I had no emotional ties to this land or these people, there was something profoundly empty inside, even if I didn’t know it at the time. Yes, being with my real mother, getting to know her as well as I could and stepping into my true birthright gave me a true sense of belonging, one I felt I was missing my whole life, but the power overshadowed the truth: I already belonged. With my husband, with my father, as the queen of this land.
This Hanna, this me, who I really am right now? This is my destiny.
This is the prophecy.
I’m the one to touch Death and unite the land.
As if he can feel what I’m thinking, my husband glances over and gives me a quick, reassuring smile before it fades back into a firm line.
We keep marching forward through the darkness, the only sound the breathing of hundreds of troops and footsteps crunching over snow.
When the forest loom above us, dark and mysterious and deadly, we all come to a stop with a raise of Tuoni’s hand.
He looks to my father. “Do you have wards at the ready?” he asks in a hush.
My father nods, gripping his black staff, magicked nails hammered in the sides.
Then, Death looks at Tapio. “Are you able to communicate with the forest yet?”
Tapio squints at the tree line. “I have. I don’t sense any dangers. The trees tell me it is safe, and I am inclined to believe them.”
“Good,” he says. “Then we must press on. We’ll travel a good ways in until you find us a good place to camp, perhaps one that already has your old wards in place, ones Torben can strengthen. If it can connect near a ley line, all the better. We won’t be able to cross the entire forest in one go.” He looks to everyone else. “We must be on high alert at all times. Watch for snaking vines and roots underfoot, for unnatural stillness, a sense of being watched by something malevolent. If something feels off, let us know.”
“In other words,” I say to the troops in my best airport PA voice, “if you see something, say something.”
“Yes,” Tuoni says, frowning. “That’s literally what I just said.”
I shake my head. Yet another thing he doesn’t understand—though, frankly, I am impressed he made it through the Hobbit movies. Maybe one day, if we get out of this alive and save the realm, I’ll make him sit down and watch all the Lord of the Rings movies back to back. I doubt he has seen the extended editions.
“Let’s go,” I command.
Signals are made to the garrisons to the left and right of us, and we start to enter the forest.
We slip into the Hiisi Forest, spaced out in several single-file lines, the towering silhouettes of ancient cedars and ironwood lit by moonlight. Snow crunches underfoot, the cold having seeped into the woods, and we move slowly, cautiously, as if expecting the trees themselves to lunge at us. No one speaks; our breaths are clouds in the chilled air. Even Tuoni, usually so confident, holds his silence, scanning the darkness with wary eyes.
I stay close to his side, aware of the soldiers branching out behind us, while Tapio leads the way at the front. He’s quiet, his attention fixed on the subtle language of leaves and roots. Every so often, his head tilts, as if listening to a whisper we can’t hear. Tuoni’s tension eases minutely whenever Tapio gives the slightest nod. That means the forest approves of our passage, or at least tolerates it. We’re guests here, not enemies. Not tonight.
After an hour of winding down narrow deer paths and ducking beneath low branches, I feel my pulse calm. No ambush springs from the gloom. No Old Gods surge from beneath the snow. There’s only the murmuring hush of a winter forest. The tension thins, though no one relaxes completely. We all know danger can strike at any moment.
At one point, I lag behind Tuoni by a few steps, my boots treading carefully on a patch of ice. They’re a couple of sizes too big, taken off the feet of a dead soldier, which I try not to dwell on. The moonlight slants between trunks, illuminating patches of moss and lichen. My fingers start to itch as I feel the power inside me, that dormant solar gift kindling deep down. Could I try it again? Just a little spark, a test? If I can control it here, in the quiet, maybe I’ll trust myself more when the time comes to fight. Maybe I can be useful in the end.
I close my eyes briefly, imagining a delicate thread of light flowing from my core to my fingertips.
Just a spark , I tell myself, breathing slowly. My hand warms, and I open my eyes. A faint glow hovers above my palm, no brighter than a candle’s ember. It flickers nervously, like a timid animal ready to flee. Fear nips at my heart—what if it flares out of control? But it doesn’t. It stays small, obedient. When a soldier glances my way, I quickly close my fist, smothering the glow. Good. I can manage something tiny without losing my head and turning into Doctor Manhattan again. It’s a start.
We press deeper into the forest. The trees thicken, their tangled tops blocking out the moon. My father walks at the flank, his black staff tapping gently against roots, as if in conversation. He’s placing wards, I realize, small, protective spells that settle around us like invisible blankets. I sense them more than see them—strands of energy that hum in harmony with the hush of the woods. I wish I could speak to him about it, compliment his craftsmanship, tell him how proud I am of him, but I feel the need to stay quiet. Still, he glances my way, and I give him a smile that hopefully says a lot.
At last, Tapio halts before a clearing lit by a strange moss that glows faintly green. Snow drapes over a cluster of old stones in a half-circle, like a forgotten altar. The Forest God touches a trunk, listens, and then turns to us. “This place was once a grove of power,” he murmurs. “My wards from long ago linger. Torben can reinforce them. We’ll be safe here.”
Tuoni exhales and gives a curt nod. Immediately, the soldiers set to work, murmuring quietly as they clear a space for tents and bedrolls, extending beyond the clearing and into the rest of the forest, making room for everyone. I can feel the collective relief—no traps, no monsters, no sudden screams, just a night’s rest in the heart of a forest. I never really did trust this place, considering what I’ve been through before (hello, giant spider that almost ate me) but tonight, I feel a sense of calm—though perhaps it’s the calm before the storm.
As we settle, my father kneels to anchor the wards by sprinkling ash and salt on the ground around me and Tuoni while Tapio hums softly, coaxing the trees to watch over us. The other garrison has joined us now, and the Magician stands at the edge of the clearing, galaxies swirling beneath his hood, a silent sentinel. Lovia checks on the troops, shoulders squared against lingering doubt, while Rasmus offers to help gather firewood.
I can’t help but watch Rasmus as he goes. He catches my eye for a moment, and in his gaze, I see both shame and fear. Good. Let that asshole fear me; it’s the least I deserve. Seeing him alongside my father— our father—as well as Death and Lovia, was a hard thing to understand. Frankly, I still don’t get it. He was a traitor in so many ways, and I don’t care what they all say. He is never to be trusted.
Part of me wants to follow Rasmus into the woods to make sure he’s not going to alert Louhi’s gang or something, but then I see the Magician trailing behind him, and I know he’s on the case. I suppose he’s the only one who truly knows what Rasmus is going to do.
I take a seat on a fallen log beside Tuoni. He doesn’t say much, just reaches for my hand. I squeeze it back, and we watch the moss-glow shimmer in the darkness.
“This is the first time we’ve been camping,” I whisper to him. “You don’t strike me as someone who likes roughing it.”
“I only like roughing it in bed,” he says with a smirk before he kisses my cheek. Then, he takes a look around; satisfied no one is looking, he places my palm on his crotch, his cock hard against his fly.
I roll my eyes. I shouldn’t be surprised.
“Care to take a walk with me?” he whispers.
I should say no. I’m tired, we’re surrounded by soldiers, and our enemy could strike at any minute. But I also know this is one way to keep my humanity humming.
Besides, all the adrenaline is making me hard up for it.
I nod slyly and get to my feet. He pulls me into the forest, though we have to walk quite aways before we’re away from prying eyes.
The trees swallow us in their embrace, the shadows thickening as we venture further from the camp. Tuoni’s hand is warm in mine, his touch grounding me amidst the uncertainties lurking beyond the trees. A sense of freedom washes over me as we walk, a brief respite from the weight of our mission and the dilemma clawing at my insides.
We find a small clearing illuminated by a cluster of fireflies dancing in the night air. The ethereal glow flickers around us, casting a soft light on Tuoni’s face, highlighting the lines of worry etched there. I reach up to trace his jawline, feeling the stubble beneath my fingertips.
“This is terribly romantic,” I tell him. “Did you plan this?”
“Just divine luck,” he says before he grabs my face and kisses me deeply.
I melt into his embrace, the tension of the war melting away as our lips move in synchronicity. Tuoni’s touch ignites a fire within me, a primal need that eclipses any danger that might lurk just beyond the trees.
The urgency of our kiss propels us backward until my back meets the rough bark of a towering pine. His hands roam over my body, and even with his gloves on, his touch sets my skin ablaze with desire, the scent of pine and soil filling my senses.
With a swift movement, Tuoni lifts me effortlessly, my legs wrapping around his waist as he presses me against the sturdy trunk. The rough texture of the bark scratches against my skin, a delicious contrast to the silkiness of his touch.
Want and need course through me like wildfire, primal and insatiable. Our breath mingles in the cool night air, fogging between us as my husband explores every inch of my exposed skin, igniting trails of heat in his wake. His lips trail down my neck, leaving a searing path of kisses that send shivers down my spine.
Then, he pushes the layers of my dress out of the way, and the thick head of his cock teases me, rubbing against me in slow circles that send waves of raw lust coursing through my veins.
I reach up, running my fingers through his hair, feeling the silken strands against my skin. His breath quickens at my touch, and when our eyes lock, I can see the raw need in them, a need only I can sate.
With a low growl, he thrusts into me, filling me completely. I gasp at the stretch, so thick and deep and right that it takes my breath away. He pulls back slightly then thrusts again, each movement sending shockwaves of pleasure through me like an electric current.
I wrap my legs around him tighter, feeling his muscles ripple with exertion. His eyes latch onto mine once more, his gaze deep and intense, silver glowing in the moonlight. He thrusts harder now, desperate for release, desperate to take me with him.
My body responds to his urgency, matching his fervent desire with equal intensity. We move together as one, each movement perfectly synchronized. The sound of our ragged breaths mingle with the rustling of leaves and the gentle whine of wind passing through the forest.
The heat between us builds until it bursts like a supernova, washing over me in waves of pure, blinding pleasure, followed by a rush of emotion that swells, threatening to spill over. I can’t find the words to express what I feel in this moment, so I press my lips to his, pouring all my love and longing into the kiss. The world falls away around us, leaving only the echo of our heartbeats and the whisper of the branches overhead.
As we break apart and he pulls out, lowering me back to the ground, a rustling in the underbrush startles us. Tuoni tenses, his hand instinctively reaching for his sword, but instead of an enemy lurking in the darkness, a small fox of fur and bone emerges, its golden eyes curious as it regards us.
I can’t help but let out a soft laugh at the unexpected visitor. Tuoni relaxes beside me as it runs off into the night.
“We might have scarred that poor fox for life,” I tell him. “Think of the things he’ll tell Tapio.”
“Animals understand it better than anyone,” he says to me, doing up his pants and helping me smooth down my dress before he takes my hand and leads me back to camp.