Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

LOVIA

The forest seems to sigh as we leave the ash behind, Yggthra’s final shriek still echoing faintly in my ears. The silence that follows is heavy, an invisible weight pressing down on our shoulders. The Magician walks ahead, guiding us through the maze of twisted trunks and arching roots. I keep my sword ready, my eye firmly on Rasmus to keep him in check. The further we go, the deeper the hush grows, until we move through a world of muffled footsteps, rustling leaves, and water that drips down mossy rock faces.

We tread carefully, and I’m half-expecting another ambush, or for Rasmus to try some trick, even though he’s still bound and the Magician gagged him with mycelia again. Thankfully, though, nothing disturbs our journey—no sign of Louhi’s henchmen, no flash of monstrous eyes between the trees. There’s only an uneasy calm that leaves my nerves taut as a wire.

My leg throbs and burns, and I grit my teeth, determined not to slow us down. Ahead, the Magician’s hooded form glides almost soundlessly between towering trunks, as if he’s a ghost. Rasmus shuffles behind me, his breathing shallow and irregular. I’m starting to think Yggthra might have cracked a rib or two of his, and I warn myself not to feel sorry for him.

We press on and, before long, shapes begin to loom in the twilight of the forest. More than just trees now—structures, perhaps, wooden huts half-buried in leaves and vines, overgrown platforms winding around colossal trunks. The scent of moss and rich soil intensifies, and an odd warmth blows through the damp air.

Something stirs beyond the ferns, and we freeze, my sword half-raised, my heart pounding.

A sudden whisper runs through the trees, like leaves brushing against bark, and then, they appear. At first, I don’t recognize them. They look too rooted in this place, as much a part of the forest as the trees themselves.

Tapio emerges from behind a massive cedar, his beard a wilderness of twisted branches and tangled moss. A squirrel peeks from within his leafy tangle, their eyes curious and afraid. When the Forest God recognizes us, he lifts a hand in greeting, leaves falling from his sleeves like dust motes.

Behind him stands his daughter, Tellervo, her wild red hair tangled over her shoulders. Two small antlers curl from her head, adorned with ribbons of vine and flowers. She peers at us through narrowed green eyes, posture guarded, brow furrowed in mistrust, even though we have met many times before. I guess I can’t really blame her; I probably shouldn’t be trusting them either, especially with Louhi’s black magic permeating these woods.

They are not alone. More shapes flit behind them—lesser forest spirits, perhaps—staying to the shadows, chittering and whispering anxiously. I have never seen them like this before: hiding, uncertain, on edge, as if they fear their own home. It’s enough to get me to lower my defenses.

Tapio’s voice crackles softly through the silence. “Lovia? What news do you bring?” He rakes his eyes over me and the Magician, lingering on Rasmus with clear disdain. The squirrel darts back into his beard, as if to emphasize his agitation.

Tellervo steps forward, head tilted, antlers catching a stray beam of dim forest light. She eyes Rasmus first, lip curling. “You dare come here with him?” she demands, her voice sharper than thorns at the edge of the thicket. “He stinks of Louhi’s foul magic.”

At the mention of Louhi, the lesser spirits hiss quietly from the greenery, and a hush falls so thick, I can almost taste the tension.

The Magician raises a hand, galaxies swirling faintly in the dark void beneath his hood. “We mean no harm, Tapio, Tellervo,” he says smoothly, voice resonating between the trunks. “We seek your help. Shadow’s End has been taken over. Tuoni and Hanna have been disposed of, Louhi is controlling Death’s double, and Salainen is pretending to be Hanna.”

Tapio’s eyes narrow as he strokes his beard, dislodging a sparrow that flutters out nervously. “I knew it. I knew something was wrong. That’s why we left Shadow’s End in a hurry after the bone match. Where is Tuonen? I tried to warn him, but I’m not sure he understood.”

At the mention of my brother’s name, my heart sinks. “You haven’t seen him?”

The Magician had said he felt my brother was still alive, but other than that, I have no idea where he could be.

Tapio shakes his head. “Only at Shadow’s End. We escaped in the night. I had a feeling in my gut that I wasn’t dealing with either Tuoni or Hanna. I knew it was Louhi’s influence.”

Fuck. That means Tuonen might still be with her. I can only hope that when he realizes the truth—he’s bound to sooner or later—that he at least fakes it with her. If she knows he’s wise to her, I don’t know what she’ll do. Once upon a time, I could never imagine my mother hurting either of us, but now that I know what she’d do to take over the world and unleash Kaaos, I fear he won’t be spared.

“Where have you come from?” Tellervo asks us, still glaring at Rasmus. “And why is he here?”

“I had been ferrying the boat when the Old Gods began to rise,” I explain, trying to give her the simplest version of events. “I battled them before I ran into the Magician. The City of Death has collapsed, with Inmost breaking free. There is no more Golden Mean or Amaranthus. There is only depravity.”

“I was there when it crumbled,” the Magician adds. “Luckily, I ran into Lovia. We headed here to find you, to find our allies. Along the way, Rasmus came to stop us. Then, an Old God tried to do the same.”

“You didn’t see Nyyrikki or Mielikki, did you?” Tapio asks, his voice heavy with worry, to which I shake my head. “When we returned to the forest, we sensed something evil had already permeated the soil here. We immediately started looking for Nyyrikki, who had stayed in the forest and never made it to the bone match. But while we were searching, we became separated from Mielikki. I can’t explain it. One minute, she was here, the next, she wasn’t. We have been searching the forest ever since and still we cannot find either of them.”

“We hear them,” Tellervo says, her eyes darting around the trees nervously. “The Old Gods. They have awakened in the deep groves outside of our wards, but we don’t know how much longer they can hold. It’s as if our own magic is weakening, like the forest is turning on us. Nothing is as it should be.”

“And so why is he still alive?” Tapio says, nodding at Rasmus. “He’s Louhi’s son, is he not? Why didn’t you kill him the first chance you got?”

“Because Yggthra, the Old God that tried to stop us, was about to kill him,” I explain.

“So you got soft?” Tapio says gruffly, in a way that reminds me of my father.

“I didn’t get soft,” I say, struggling to keep my voice calm. “I just realized that if Louhi was willing to kill him, then he’s no longer under her command—not blindly, anyway. He is our prisoner. He may be dangerous, but we need him alive. If he is not useful as leverage, then he may be helpful with intel.”

Tellervo snorts, unimpressed, but Tapio’s gaze seems to search my face, as if looking for truth etched amid the pain and grime in my features.

“The only intel we need is where to find my wife and son,” Tapio says slowly. “We need to find them before we can make any other plans.”

The Magician dips his head. “That is why we seek you. Time is short, and we need all the allies we can get, including your wife and son. We will help you find them if you promise us to help find others—Ahto, Vellamo, Ilmatar. Especially Tuoni, as I know he’ll be back in this world before long.”

“Don’t forget Hanna,” Tellervo says.

“And Hanna, of course,” he affirms. “She has a part to play here too, maybe the biggest part of all. But we can’t fight against Louhi unless we are united. It is only then we have a fighting chance.”

Tellervo takes in his words, her gaze lingering on Rasmus, distrust shining in her eyes. I tighten my hold on the mycelium rope, feeling the hostility radiating from the gods.

“Your prisoner,” Tapio says, raising his chin, “carries the stain of Louhi. He does not belong in this forest.”

Tellervo steps forward and tilts her head at Rasmus, wild red hair shifting over her shoulders like a living vine. “Louhi’s spawn,” she repeats, her tone flat but vibrating with disgust. “If we let him live, we risk more corruption taking root here. None of us can trust him. How can we even start searching for my brother and mother when we’ll be looking over our shoulder, waiting for him to make his move? What if his very presence here is enough to break the wards protecting us?”

The Magician’s hands make a prayer gesture. “It will be our task to watch him. We ask only for your patience,” he says gently. “I feel the part he has to play will be revealed before long.”

“Why wait?” I ask. “Let him speak for himself. We’ve kept him gagged for our own safety, not to mention how fucking annoying he is, but perhaps he should decide his fate. If he’s truly beyond saving, he can prove it with his own words.”

Tellervo’s eyes narrow at the idea, and the forest hushes, as if holding its breath.

“You would set him free?” Tapio asks, tone suspicious as he strokes his beard.

“I didn’t say that,” I say firmly. “But let him talk. Let him state his allegiance. If he speaks about treachery, let alone attempts it…” I shrug, letting the gleam of my sword say the rest. “We have shown him we can kill Old Gods. He might be a shaman, but he is mortal.”

Rasmus’s eyes dart from side to side. The Magician steps forward and, with a careful flick of his hand, the mycelia retract slightly from Rasmus’ mouth, unveiling his lips but keeping his arms and legs bound.

Rasmus coughs once, finding his voice. When he speaks, it’s hoarse but clearer than before. “You think I’m a pawn,” he says, glaring at each of us in turn. “You think I have no choice, but I do.”

We all stare at him expectantly, the Magician’s hands raised, ready to shut him up if needed.

Rasmus tries to stand straighter, though the bonds pull him taut. He wets his cracked lips. “Louhi may be my mother,” he begins, “but she left me to die. She sent Yggthra to finish the job, didn’t she?” He glances at me and the Magician, fear and hatred mingling in his stare. “I’m aware you saved me—Gods know you keep reminding me—but you have things the other way around. You don’t trust me, but I have no reason to trust you either.

“But I don’t want to die,” he goes on after a deep breath, his voice steadier now. “Not for Louhi, not for any of you. If I must choose, I will choose survival, my own skin.” He grits his teeth, anger making his eyes gleam. “If helping you fight back means I get to live another day, then I’ll do it. If betraying you later means a better bargain, then maybe I’ll do that too.”

Well, I certainly didn’t expect him to admit that.

A hush falls. Tapio’s beard ripples with quiet disapproval, the squirrel chattering uneasily. Tellervo’s nostrils flare. The Magician remains silent, galaxies swirling, unreadable.

“So you’re a selfish bastard, that’s what you’re saying?” I ask.

Rasmus juts out his chin. “I’m an honest bastard, more honest than you’ll ever get from a cornered animal. Let me go, and I’ll help you because it’s in my interest. I can’t return to Shadow’s End now, and being alone here means certain death.” He looks at the Magician’s voided face. “Or keep me leashed; it guarantees I won’t be able to help any of you, including myself.”

Tapio’s shoulders sag slightly. “This is what mortals have become,” he says with disappointment. “Rootless and faithless, serving only themselves.”

I step forward, sword lowered. “Then we let him live,” I say. “For now. We will see if his self-interest keeps him useful. Otherwise…”

“So you’ll free me?” Rasmus asks.

I give him a grim smile. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. We’ll see when the time is right.”

“Very well,” Tapio says. “This forest is no place for traitors or turncoats, but if you vouch for his momentary worth, we won’t interfere. We have greater fears at the moment.” He gestures to the sky slowly growing dark beyond the trees. “The longer we stand here talking about this, the further we get from finding my wife and son. We must set off again before darkness falls.”

Rasmus exhales, and I can feel his relief. His honesty probably saved his life, but I’ll be damned if I let my guard down around him. I know he can’t help us if he’s bound, but if or when his help is needed, then I’ll reassess the situation. Until then, that boy is still our prisoner.

Tellervo’s eyes flicker toward my leg. I know I’m still limping, that the arrowhead is still lodged in my calf, causing a constant, throbbing ache I’ve done my best to ignore.

“Your leg,” she says, voice softer now, the brusqueness fading. “It weakens you, and we have little time for weakness.” Her tone is blunt but not cruel. “How did it happen?” Her gaze shifts to Rasmus before I even get the chance to tell her.

To his credit, he looks away, seeming ashamed.

“Sit,” she instructs me as she glares at him. A mossy rock beside me glows faintly, and I reluctantly lower myself on it, my legs straining from the effort.

Tapio shifts, and I sense the forest around us humming with a subtle energy. The Magician watches from a short distance, galaxies swirling quietly under his hood. Rasmus, still bound, keeps silent, perhaps realizing that making a sound right now would be unwise.

Tellervo kneels gracefully and studies the torn flesh. She nods once, and without a word, she places her hands on either side of the wound. Her fingers are warm but not hot, as if infused with gentle sunlight filtered through leaves.

I brace myself for pain, but what I feel is something else—a slow, radiating warmth that seeps into the muscle and bone. I gasp softly as I sense the arrowhead shifting. There’s a moment of pressure, then a sudden relief as the shard of metal slides free. I look down to see green shoots coming from the ground, carrying the broken part away.

Chartreuse light swirls around Tellervo’s hands, filtering into the wound. I watch, stunned, as the torn edges of flesh knit themselves back together. The raw agony dulls to a faint throb before it vanishes entirely. Within moments, my skin is smooth, unbroken, save for a faint, shimmering scar.

Tellervo sits back on her heels, brushing her palms together. “There. Take care not to get shot again. Your body keeps score when it comes to my magic. It can only take so much before it won’t work at all.”

Good to know.

I test my leg, putting weight on it, astonished at how easily I rise. “Thank you,” I manage to say. The pain that has dogged me feels like a memory, and with it, some of my uncertainty lifts. I feel stronger—more myself again. You don’t realize what a hold pain has over you until it’s gone.

Tapio’s deep eyes shift between us, lingering on Rasmus then returning to me and the Magician. “I hate to seem insensitive, but we really should get going.”

“We’ll find them, don’t worry,” I tell him. “And once we do, I know just where to go. Louhi has spread her influence wide. Her servants, her allies—they’re in the open. They’ve taken over Tuonela. We need somewhere to gather and hide far away from her, somewhere she would never suspect us to go.”

The Magician tilts his head. “You have something in mind?”

From the tone of his voice, I think he already knows what I’m about to say.

I nod. “Castle Synti. Louhi’s palace by the Star Swamp.”

Rasmus makes a muffled sound of protest—he knows the place. Everyone does. The Star Swamp is a realm of luminous bogs, of twisted spirits, of dangerous illusions. The swamp itself isn’t made of water but of Oblivion; falling in means a fate worse than death. After Louhi left my father, it became her own seat of power in the north, one she shared with her shaman consort, Ilmarinen. It’s the last place she’d think we’d go, a place no sane creature willingly ventures, let alone us.

“Her palace?” Tellervo asks, her antlered head tilting in disbelief. The animals in Tapio’s beard grow silent, as if stunned. “You want to march right into her old domain? When everything that surrounds it is Oblivion?”

“Not march,” I say. “We sneak and we hide. We plan. She won’t be expecting us there, not if she believes we’re searching for her in our usual haunts. We find Nyyrikki and Mielikki and we head straight there. If we can do it undiscovered, then we might be able to gather enough allies and make a good enough plan. It’s shelter. We can turn it into a fortress.”

The Magician’s galaxies flare in a silent show of agreement. Tapio’s forehead creases with concern as he nods gravely, while Tellervo stares at me for a moment before she finally gives me a wry smile.

“You’re mad,” she says softly, “but I think we might need to be in order to survive.”

She gets it. I look over at Rasmus. “Well? If you know something or have anything to say about this plan, now is the time to speak up.”

He gnaws on his lip for a moment. “Ilmarinen is still there. Louhi left him behind.”

“And? He is mortal, is he not? I’m sure we can take care of him.”

“He is still a shaman, no matter how much magic Louhi has drained from him,” he says. “Remember, it’s his power that helped her gain so much. It would be a mistake to discount him.”

“But she’s been torturing that man for years,” Tapio says. “How could he still be on her side?”

The look in Rasmus’ eyes darkens. “Because that’s what abuse looks like. That’s what brainwashing looks like. Your loyalty is ingrained in you through pain,” he adds quietly. “Until it becomes all you know.”

I have to admit, I’m starting to feel a little sorry for Rasmus. I know I shouldn’t; I know he’s probably trying to manipulate me after I saved his life, after he saw my compassion, my weakness. My father never would have made such a mistake—neither would my mother, for that matter. Where I get this bleeding heart from, I don’t know, but I sure as hell don’t like it.

My eyes meet the Magician’s face, and I feel strength in those spinning stars. It gives me my resolve back.

“Then we’ll be ready for him and whatever magic he might wield,” I say as I nod at Tapio to lead us through the forest.