39

Aina

Fire. I’m on fire. A burning heat courses through my body as smoke fills my lungs. I try to cough, but the pain of doing so nearly makes me faint. Oh gods, I’m broken. This is it. Only death remains.

“Aina,” a frantic voice calls. “Aina, no!” Rough hands touch me, moving my broken body. I moan, unable to form words. “Kalma!” the deep voice bellows.

I open my eyes to see the death god looming over me. Raising his hand, he forms an orb of fire in his palm and lobs it through the darkness. An unearthly screech, followed by a sharp sizzling sound, tells me he hit his target.

The shadow creature advances on Tuoni with a snarl. The god of death places himself between me and the beast. With a downward pull of his hands through the air, he fashions himself a sword of flame. He grips it one-handed, forming a shield in his other hand. “You will never breathe the free air again, Foul One!”

The creature hisses, growing in size as if it means to intimidate the death god. But Tuoni holds his ground. I can only watch, broken and naked in the snow, as Tuoni battles, swinging that sword to hack the creature at shoulder and neck. It lets out a squeal as the fire burns through its smoky flesh.

“Get your monster under control,” Tuoni shouts.

Out of the corner of my eye, someone sweeps through the darkness. A choking, noxious smell sinks into my nose, burning away all the fine hairs. Oh gods, I’d know that stench anywhere. The monster’s stench is but an echo of hers. The goddess of decay stands behind the shadow. Reaching out her claw-like hand, Kalma grabs the creature, her fingers constricting around the back of its neck. Like a dog snagged by the scruff, the shadow whimpers. In moments, it shrinks down to the size of a man.

“Bury it,” Tuoni calls over to her. “We must remake the bonds.” He drops to his knees in the snow at my side, his flaming sword and shield vanishing from his hands. “Aina, look at me,” he urges, touching my face.

I hiss, trying to pull away from the heat of his hands. I’m in so much pain. I can’t move anything below my neck.

“Stay with me.” Tuoni puts his hands on my shattered shoulder.

“You—promised,” I pant.

“What?”

“Kill me,” I beg, fluttering my eyes open. “You promised—”

“No,” he growls. “I can fix this. Don’t move.”

I gasp, unable to draw a proper breath as a new kind of fire sinks through my skin. Tuoni has both hands on me, his lips moving as he chants. He sings the words low, his body swaying. His dark eye goes white, glowing an almost blueish color. It matches his cloudy eye. He sings his song over me, the pressure of his hands making me want to faint.

“Ahhh—” I cry out as the bones of my shoulder snap back into place. Taking another gasping breath, I fill my lungs with air. I feel the muscles of my shoulder sewing themselves back together beneath my skin. My hands rise up out of the snow as I clutch at the god, clinging to him. He keeps singing his mournful song until the pressure eases, and I feel whole again.

Tuoni lifts his shaking hands away from me. He blinks twice, the blue-white light fading from his dark eye.

“Wha-what was that?” I say through chattering teeth. Now that my body isn’t broken, I feel the cold of the snow.

“A healing song,” he replies. “You’re not yet dead,” he adds with a soft smile. “No need to fulfill any oaths.”

But I was as good as dead. I could feel the life fading from me. And yet, I am healed. The god of death healed me. “How d-did you learn to heal l-like that?” I cover my breasts with my snow-dusted arms, too cold to blush at my nakedness.

“V?in?moinen taught me,” the god replies, helping me sit up. He undoes the clasp of his cloak, removing it and wrapping it around my shoulders. He pulls up the hood, covering my wet hair. I gasp as he pulls me into his lap. In one movement, he’s standing, my naked, trembling body cradled in his arms.

“Lovi-atar,” I pant.

“She’s fine,” he replies. “See for yourself.”

He turns so I can peek around the edge of my hood. Loviatar is on the far side of the clearing being helped to her feet by Kukka. Just beyond the witch, Kalma still clings to the scruff of the shadow. At her side, the great wolf Surma growls, its glistening teeth bared.

“I’m taking Aina back,” Tuoni calls to the others. “Prepare the grave. We must seal it with all haste.” Not waiting for a response, he takes off through the darkness with me bundled in his arms.

Tuoni sets me down in a chair by the fire in the south tower.

“Thank you,” I murmur, settling myself against the soft cushions.

He waves his hand, and the fire roars twice as high. The god drops to one knee at my side, frost dusting the fringe of his night-dark beard. He cups my cheek with a trembling hand. “You’re freezing.”

“I’m f-fine.” I reach for his hand, but he’s already moving away. He returns with a thick fur, which he drapes over my lap.

“Will you allow me to look at your shoulder?”

I nod, and help him undo the clasp at my neck, unwrapping his cloak enough to peel the thick wool away from my shoulder. His warm fingers move over my icy, pale skin. “No pain?”

I lean into the warmth of his touch. “No pain.”

He pulls away so quickly it nearly topples me over. “I must go.”

“Wait,” I cry. “What was that, my lord?”

“A kalman v?ki,” he replies, tossing two more logs onto my fire.

Fear shoots through me. A kalman v?ki, a death spirit. “Wait—did Kalma—”

“No,” the god says quickly. “If Kalma wanted you dead, she wouldn’t have come when I called her.”

“You really trust her?”

“I do. She is mine.”

I fight a shiver but nod. Trust . I have to trust these witches. I have to trust Tuoni. Without trust, I’m all alone. I lean forward, holding more tightly to his cloak. “If not Kalma, then who? Tuonetar is still without her magic, yes? She remains locked in the north tower?”

“I must go,” is all he says as he moves towards the door. “The v?ki must be reburied. We cannot delay.”

“My lord—”

His hand is on the door. “I will return, wife.” With that, he leaves.

I’m left waiting what feels like an age. As soon as my body is warm enough, I’m up out of the chair. I set Tuoni’s cloak aside, opting instead for a simple white woolen dress. I pick up a wolf pelt and wrap it around my shoulders. All fatigue I might have felt is replaced with frustration and anger—at this situation, at the death goddesses, and most of all at myself.

I almost died tonight. Again . Tuoni was nearly too late. Anger at Tuoni simmers too. He promised me I’d be safe. He promised no harm would come to me. Either he lied, or he made a promise he knows he can’t keep.

Which is worse?

My anger at myself burns brightest. Loviatar made me believe I could be more. She made me feel like I was clever and resourceful, the mouse who outwits and outlasts. But maybe I’m not meant to survive this place. Maybe my story is already written. Tuoni’s curiosity at having a mortal for a wife will put me in jeopardy again and again. It’s only a matter of time before this mouse succumbs to the will of the monsters. Fate or no, this mouse wants to fight. Tonight has reinforced this simple truth: I want to live.

A knock at my door makes me jump.

“Aina, it’s me,” the death god’s voice calls through the door.

I hurry over to the door and pull back the bolt, letting Tuoni enter. He steps into the room, snow dusting his boots. A gust of winter chill sweeps in after him. I shut the door and latch it, leaning against the heavy wood. Tuoni crosses the room. He reaches for the carafe of wine. “Don’t,” I hear myself call.

His hand stills.

“I want you sober, my lord. I have questions.”

He drops his hand back to his side. Slowly, he turns, eyes locked on me. I find I want to run my fingers down his scar. Who hurt him? How did it happen? Was there no healing song to sing for him then? “What happened?” I say instead. “Where did you go?”

He sighs, leaning against the table with his hip. “The v?ki is bound and reburied.”

“Bound?”

He nods. “Kalman v?ki feed on mortal souls. When you all began arriving in Tuonela, Kalma had to bury them and bind them with spells. Someone let one loose.”

“And... was I the target?”

He crosses his arms over his broad chest. “You are the only living mortal in Tuonela.”

I hold his gaze. “Who did it?”

He turns away.

“Was it Vammatar?” I call, following him. “She hates me. She’s just like her mother. She hates all who stand between her and more power.”

“It was not Vammatar,” he replies, filling a cup with wine despite my request. “She just helped us bind the v?ki—and at great personal risk, I might add.”

“So, it wasn’t Kalma... and it wasn’t Vammatar. The Witch Queen remains locked in her tower,” I summarize, ticking off each name on my fingers. “That only leaves...” I glance up to see the look of deep disappointment flutter across his face. “It was the twins, wasn’t it? Kivutar and Kiputytto, they’ve chosen their side already?”

He drains the cup of wine and slams it down. “We searched the Kipum?ki. They’ve disappeared, taking all their mischief with them.”

“But... surely, you can find them. You can reason with them—”

He spins around, glaring at me. “There is no reasoning with Tuonetar’s creatures. There can be no mercy. They don’t understand it. They only understand power.”

“What will you do?”

“I’ve had to triple the guards on all the buried v?ki,” he replies, refilling his cup. “There’s no telling where the twins might go or what they might do. They could make deals behind my back with the goblins or the other witches. They will continue to sow trouble. And if they get their hands on you, wife, they’ll no doubt ransom you for their mother’s freedom. Which, of course, I cannot allow.”

“And when you find them?”

“I will have no choice but to bind them in iron and sink them into the bog.”

“And will that... does that kill them?”

“No,” he mutters. “I will strip them of their magic, as I did their mother, but I need them alive. Their powers are important. They help us achieve the great balance. They know how they are needed. They know how they now bind my hands.”

“Kalma should have just let the v?ki take me,” I whisper. “I would be less of a burden to you dead—”

“ No .” He crosses the room in three strides, cupping my face with both hands. “Do not say that again. Those words are forbidden between us, do you understand?”

“Why do they want me dead so badly?”

He considers for a moment, lowering his hands to my shoulders. “This wasn’t about killing you. It was about testing their sisters. They had to be sure who was loyal to me... who they could trust.”

“What do you mean?”

“They saw Kalma’s actions in the throne room as a great treachery. She played her part too well, feeding Tuonetar’s need for chaos for far too long. All the while, she was scheming in the dark, plotting to set me free. Kalma surprised her sisters with her loyalty to me. She confused them. She scared them, Aina. And there is nothing more dangerous in Tuonela than a scared witch.”

“She scared me too,” I admit. “I had no idea she was so powerful. She held the Witch Queen’s throat as if Tuonetar was a mere rag doll.”

“Kalma is indeed powerful. In some ways, she holds more power than I.”

“In what ways?”

He frowns, dropping his hands away from me. “Well, for one thing, only Kalma can control a kalman v?ki.”

This truth reveals so much more about the politics of Tuonela. The twins forced Kalma to choose publicly yet again. Would she save her father’s new wife? Or would she let her v?ki devour my soul as it was made to do?

It was a test for Loviatar too. Would she fight a kalman v?ki for me, even knowing she would lose? I let out a shaky breath, relieved to have the answer for myself. Maybe I was wrong about the witch. She loves her daughter, but Loviatar would clearly fight death itself to save me too.

This is a night of revelations for us all.

“And Vammatar?” I say, glancing at Tuoni.

He frowns. “She goes wherever the wind blows. Such has always been her nature.”

“So... she helped you tonight only because she believes you’re winning against the Witch Queen? Can we expect her to turn on us both with the first changing of the wind?”

He holds my gaze. “I will protect you, Aina.”

Frustration and sadness are etched on his face. I feel them echoing down the bond. Stepping closer, I place a hand over his heart, my fingers brushing the soft wool of his tunic. “My presence is tearing your realm apart.”

His hand lifts to cover mine. “You deserve neither credit nor blame. My realm was in pieces long before you arrived.”

“But the fact remains that I am a liability to you. You can’t spend the rest of your days fighting to keep me alive in a realm where I am meant to be dead.”

He closes his eyes, that scar over his clouded eye crinkling. “I said don’t speak of it. I cannot bear it.”

I trace the scar lightly with my finger. “The god of death... afraid to speak of dying?”

“Afraid to speak of your death.”

“But I will die here,” I press. “You cannot keep me safe—”

“I can,” he bellows, pulling away from me.

“You shouldn’t have to, and that’s the point,” I call after him. “Wanting me shouldn’t cost you everything. It shouldn’t cost you your crown, the love of your daughters, the peace of your realm.”

He broods, face cast in shadow by the fire behind him. “And what would you have me do?”

“Sometimes...” I follow him to the fire’s side, trying to control the racing of my heart. Surely, he can feel it down the bond. I smooth both hands over his chest. “Sometimes, my lord, when we love a thing... when we truly love it... the only way to love it is to let it go.”

He stiffens, his hands raising to grasp my wrists. “ Never . You bound yourself to me, Aina. You’re mine in life and death, body and soul.”

I defiantly hold his gaze. I never expected him to agree to releasing me. He has his claws in me now. There will be no escaping Tuonela. But that doesn’t mean I have to keep living as a mouse. “You would lose your family all for the sake of me?”

“Any witch of my realm who would raise a hand against you does not deserve to call me ‘Father,’” he replies solemnly.

“You would lose your crown for me?”

“Let them try to take it,” he growls, eyes flashing with fire. “I will burn them down.” His voice rasps with ash and flame.

“You would make me your queen?”

“You are my queen,” he corrects, his hands dropping to my waist. “And come tomorrow evening, you shall be celebrated at a grand coronation feast. All the gods shall watch as I place you on the throne at my side.”

My heart races. But I don’t just want his attention, I want his power too. I want the feeling of control he gives me. In his arms, I feel strong. In his arms, I feel like a goddess. I want to be his goddess.

I tip up my chin. “I married you in the woods for the good of others. I married you to break the curse and spare countless mortal lives that would have otherwise been wrapped up in Tuonetar’s schemes. Whether you like hearing it or not, I married you for Siiri. I married you to keep her safe.”

He grimaces, his hands dropping away from me.

I give chase, my hands pulling at his arms. “I bound myself to you by blood, my lord. I know there is no escape. I will live in Tuonela; I will die in Tuonela.” I run my hands up his chest, settling them back at his shoulders. The motion drops the fur from my shoulders, leaving me in nothing but my simple white dress.

He takes me in, the want open in his heated gaze. I feel my body respond to his closeness. I swallow, holding his odd gaze. “But there is something I realized tonight as I was lying there, pulling on every thread of our bond, calling you to me.”

He winces. The memory of my broken body lying in the snow will haunt him. “What did you realize, wife?”

“As I am bound to you, you are bound to me. I called, and you came. I’m sure if I pulled on this bond hard enough, I could rip the heart from your chest.” I brush my fingers over his scarred brow. “You death gods like doing that to people, don’t you?”

He sighs. “Aina—”

“Don’t call me that,” I say, cutting him off. “You don’t get to call me that ever again. That’s what I realized, lying broken in the snow.”

His scarred brow raises in curiosity. “What shall I call you then, wife?”

I take a deep breath, holding it in my chest. “If I am to survive this place, I must become something more than Aina, the meek little mortal. I must be seen as your equal in all ways. Loviatar says this is a realm where power is claimed. So, I claim a little for myself now. I claim a new name.”

He smiles, the heat in his gaze enough to set me on fire. “Say it, wife.”

“I am Ainatar.”

He drops his face closer, making me shiver as he traces the tip of his nose along my jaw. “Ainatar...” He tests the syllables, tasting them. “My queen... my goddess... I know what is in your heart.” He places a hand over my chest, fingers splayed. “You told the raven all your hopes and dreams, remember? You told me again under the hill. You want a good man, a kind and beautiful man, strong as the sunrise. A man who will recite poetry and make love to you under the summer sun in a field of wildflowers.”

“Aina wanted that man,” I correct, placing my hand over his, entwining our fingers together. “But I am not Aina anymore. I stopped being Aina the moment our blood bonded us. I am something different now... something more. I feel Ainatar stirring inside me. I feel you , Tuoni. I feel your want and your passion, your raw, aching need.”

He tries to pull away. “I am a creature of darkness—”

“You are my creature now,” I counter, holding him to me. “I married you for others, it’s true. But I claim you now for myself. Ainatar doesn’t want a weak, mortal man. A mortal man would see her dead in this place, buried in a shallow grave. I want you , husband. I want your fires and your shadows, all your simmering strength. I want the raven’s kindness... the man’s hunger... the god’s power.”

He closes his eyes as if my words cause him physical pain. But I can feel down the bond that this pain is caused by restraint. “Do not open this door unless you wish me to walk through it,” he warns.

“A mortal man was enough for Aina. Only a god will suit Ainatar. I will have you in all forms. You call me ‘goddess’? I mean to have you worship me.”

He groans, dropping his forehead to my now-healed shoulder, his hands stroking up my back, hungrily.

“Mortals fear you and seek your favor,” I whisper, digging my fingers into his hair. “As I am your queen, you shall seek only mine. Please me, Tuoni. Please your goddess and earn my favor—”

Before I finish the words, he claims my mouth in a kiss. I sink against him, savoring the feel of his strong arms wrapped around my waist. There is nothing sweet or gentle about this kiss, nothing like that first kiss we shared in the forest. Even the kiss in the throne room felt like a controlled burn.

This kiss is an inferno. It consumes me from the tips of my toes, reforming as a searing ache deep in my core. His lips are seeking, demanding. He pours all of himself into me, opening me up in ways I didn’t know were possible. At the taste of his tongue against mine, sweet with red wine, I sigh. His fingers weave into my hair, jerking my head back. He breaks our kiss, leaving me breathless, as his mouth drops lower, grazing down my neck, sending flames dancing across my skin. I hold tight to his tunic with both hands as he grips my hips, walking me backwards towards the bed.

“Tell me again how much you want this,” he says, his voice like warm honey against my ear. He pulls back, eyes narrowed as he searches my face. “Tell me, wife.”

Trembling with nerves, I reach out a hand and stroke the scar across his face. “How did you get this?”

“V?in?moinen.”

“The shaman hurt you?” I whisper.

“We hurt each other,” he admits. “It was long ago.”

Taking his face in my hands, I pull it down. Smoothing his raven-black hair behind his ears, I kiss the edge of that long scar. “The next person who thinks to harm you will have to go through me.” The words are so ridiculous, so extraordinary, that we both can’t help but let out a laugh. He relaxes in my arms, and I pull him closer, kissing his lips. “I want this.”

He stills.

I kiss him again, slow but pleading. “Bind me to you in all ways.”

He answers me with action. Jerking his axe loose from the back of his belt, he rattles it down on the table. His thick leather belt comes off next. I’m not sure if I’m meant to help him, so I watch, taking in each of his deliberate movements as he sheds his many layers. He tugs his thick wool tunic off over his head, leaving his chest bare. In the light of the fire, I try to memorize him. His skin is so pale from a lifetime of night. Scars big and small crisscross his arms, his abdomen. A dusting of dark hair trails from his chest down to his navel.

I settle on a tattoo of a raven in flight over his heart. It’s a mirror of the one Kalma wears, though twice the size. I stroke the lines of the raven’s sharp face with my fingernail. Beneath my hand, the god of death trembles. I meet his gaze again, feeling the coiling and uncoiling of a great beast in my gut. Ainatar seeks to wake and claim our prize.

“You are mine, Tuoni. My raven, my husband.”

“I’m yours,” he repeats. “Leave your mark on me. Claim me, wife.”

I put my hands on his chest and breathe in his woodsy scent, but he lowers himself away from me, sinking down onto the bed. It’s the work of moments for him to shed his boots and wool socks. He stands, towering over me again as he drops his hands to the top of his elk-skin breeches. He works the leather ties, his eyes taking their fill of me.

My breath catches as he drops his breeches to the floor. He stands confidently before me wearing nothing but a twisted copper band on his wrist. His desire for me is on full display. I’ve seen naked men all my life—swimming in the lake, enjoying sauna. But I’ve never touched one.

Swallowing my fears, I reach for the fabric of my shift and tug it over my head. I drop it to the floor atop his discarded tunic. I stand naked before him, my hair unbound around my shoulders, trailing down my back.

Tuoni stands back, eager to look at me. His dark eye glints in the firelight as it moves, tracing the soft curves of my body. The odd thing is that he’s seen me naked before as the raven. Just tonight he found me naked in the snow. In all those times, I never felt what I feel now—pure, unbridled want.

He comes to me, his hands warm on my skin as I tremble against him. “Please,” he whispers. “I promised you kindness, and I will obey. I want you, wife. May I have you?”

Heart in my throat, I nod.

With a groan, he sweeps me into his arms and places me on the soft furs of the bed. They tickle my arms as I scoot back against the pillows. Then he’s on the bed too, kneeling over me. A sound escapes my throat as his hand trails up my thigh and between my legs. He watches me with those mismatched eyes as he moves his fingers over me in slow circles.

I arch towards his hand, biting my lip to stifle my moan. I feel like I can’t breathe, even as my lungs fill with air. I raise my arms over my head. When he slides a finger inside me, I gasp. He catches the sound with his mouth, his beard tickling as his tongue teases. I open to him, and he drops to his elbows, his weight pressing heavy against my stomach, pinning me down. He pants, his breath warm on my cheek. “Do you trust me?”

He asks me the question I’ve been asking myself for days. Can I trust him? Can I trust anyone? I have to. In this dark place, I trust him, or I die. “I trust you,” I whisper, praying to the All-Mother that my trust is not misplaced.

He claims my mouth again as he enters me. It hurts for only a moment, the sensation strange. I wince, shifting my hips until he presses in deeper, his hips resting in the cradle of my legs. The pain stops and I feel only fullness. “You feel so fragile,” he pants, one hand cupping my cheek as he moves on top of me. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

I arch back, trying to move with him. “I feel no pain.”

“But do you feel pleasure?”

“I feel...” The truth is I don’t know. I feel... everything . When he drops a hand between us, his fingers find a spot that makes me tremble. My hands move on their own, trying to pull him closer. How do lovers do this as two bodies? I want him inside me, wrapped in me. Down the bond and through my body, I open myself to this pleasure. “Don’t stop,” I plead. “Don’t—gods, don’t stop—”

He laughs, changing his angle as he wraps an iron hand around my thigh. “There are no more gods for you, wife. Only one. Only me. Say it.”

“Only one,” I pant.

“Say it.”

“Only you.”

“Who am I?”

I open my eyes, gazing up at the bold features of his face. I see the complexity in him—the curious raven, the heartsick man, the dangerous immortal. He is all three. Is it possible for me to be more than Aina? Do I dare embrace this power I feel waking inside me? Can I really become Ainatar?

Grabbing him by the shoulders, I roll us over. He barks out a laugh. Throwing his head back, he grabs my hips, letting me sink down on him once more. I cry out, trembling at the way he fills me. I drop my hands to his chest. I never want this feeling to end. I’m flying and falling. I’m lost to myself. I am whatever we are.

“Who am I, wife?” he says again.

“Mine,” I pant, dropping forward to claim his lips. “You’re Tuoni, and you’re mine.”

The need to shatter overwhelms me. Heat shivers down my legs, all the way to my toes. I feel it vibrating across my chest as I pull him to me, wanting all of him. With the god of death around me and inside me, we burn together as a joined fire, our flames scorching the other’s skin, before we both crumble to ash.