43

Aina

All around me, gods and goddesses scream, pushing against each other, desperate to escape the room. Darkness creeps in, and with it an unnatural cold. All I hear is crashing, smashing, breaking... and that laugh. Tuonetar’s feral laugh.

“Tuoni,” I cry out.

“Aina!”

I feel him pulling at the threads of our bond, and then a ball of flame bursts to life in his palm. His face is a mask of rage as he draws me to him with his free hand. Around the room, other immortals use their magic to create light. Kuutar’s hair shines like a star, rippling down her back as she runs for the door. Nyyrikki’s cape is alight with glowing toadstools. He bends protectively over his mother, helping her to her feet.

“Secure Tuonetar,” Tuoni bellows. “Protect your queen!” He lobs the fire in his hand up towards the antler chandelier. The candles magically relight, still leaving half the room in darkness.

Loviatar appears at my left, her hand on my arm.

“Take her to the tower,” Tuoni commands.

“No, do not leave me,” I cry, clinging to him.

He turns, cupping my face with both hands. “I must secure Tuonetar. Go with Loviatar.” He kisses my forehead. “Go. I will follow.”

“Come,” Loviatar commands. “Aina, come.”

Tuoni barrels his way through the crowd, magicking a rope of fire. I gasp, pulling Loviatar to a halt. The Witch Queen sits in my silver chair. The twins of pain and suffering stand to either side of their mother. In Kivutar’s hand, there is a slender wand.

“No,” I cry out.

“What is happening?” Loviatar hisses, her nails digging into my arm. “ Tell me.”

“Kivutar has the wand. Your mother sits on the throne.”

As Loviatar pulls at me again, Tuonetar’s voice echoes over the chaos. “And so, the great silent hope is now a spoken prophecy. Death shall be powerless in his hands? I am death, and I shall never be powerless!” She holds out her arms, the chains of her manacles dangling from her robes.

With a flick of her wrist, Kivutar waves the wand over them. Like Ukko’s mighty hammer hitting an anvil, red sparks erupt from the wand’s tip. The Witch Queen shrieks, black blood dripping as she fights the cuffs, which hold her fast.

“Again,” she hisses at her daughter.

Kivutar raises the wand.

“No,” Tuoni bellows. He crashes onto the dais, tackling Kivutar to the ground.

The Witch Queen shrieks again and squeals like an animal caught in a trap, still scraping at the manacle. “Get it off,” she screams. “Take this foul thing off!”

Kiputytto grabs it with her bony claws. Tuoni fights his way to his feet, the witch’s wand now clutched in his hand. At the same moment he points the wand at the Witch Queen, the bones of her hand crack and splinter, squeezed tight in her daughter’s fist, and the manacle slides off and drops to the floor with a clank. Tuonetar slashes her broken hand towards Tuoni, blasting him back, the wand flying from his hand.

“Tuoni,” I scream.

Loviatar and I are buffeted by the other gods still scrambling for the doors. “Come,” the witch commands. “You are not safe here.”

“We’re not safe anywhere,” I sob, holding to her arm with both hands.

The Witch Queen snarls, leaping from my throne with her broken hand clutched against her chest. She stalks towards me like a wolf, her bloodshot eyes locked on me. The room clears around her as all the other gods dodge from her path. “I told him I would never yield to a mortal’s brat,” she snarls. “I told him no death magic would ever eclipse me! I will rip the whelp from your womb with my teeth!”

“Protect your queen,” Tuoni shouts from his knees, blood dripping down his face.

Loviatar drags me behind her, squaring off against the Witch Queen.

“Your death is mine, Aina, Queen of Tuonela,” the Witch Queen screams. “The prophecy cannot come to pass. Step aside, Loviatar.”

“I shall never step aside,” Loviatar replies, her hands raised. “The prophecy must hold.”

“You would have us stripped of our power?” she shrieks.

“I would have us be made whole,” the blind witch replies.

“She will ruin us all!”

Loviatar tips her head back, smiling. “She will free us.”

“Move, or I kill you,” Tuonetar snarls.

Loviatar remains still. “Do your worst.”

With a snarl, the Witch Queen lunges. Before she can reach either of us, a dark shadow descends. I cry out, nearly stumbling to the floor as Kalma shoves herself between Loviatar and the Witch Queen.

“Move, you dog,” Tuonetar shrieks.

“Kalma, protect your queen,” Tuoni shouts. Wand back in hand, he moves towards us, dragging a struggling Kivutar behind him. The witch writhes and screams, trying to free herself. A dozen dead soldiers march behind him, weapons drawn.

“Don’t listen to him. You are my creature,” Tuonetar calls out to the death witch. “You know this must be done. There is no other way! Help me, daughter. Set us all free. His dreams of a peaceful Tuonela will only ever be a fantasy. This is what we are. This is what the All-Mother made us to be. Embrace your chaos, my sweet nightmare. Embrace your nature and kill the mortal wretch.”

Kalma raises her arms. Loviatar spins to face me, wrapping her arms around me, nestling me into her chest. “Avert your eyes,” is her only warning before Kalma unleashes her fury. The death witch takes a deep, rattling breath. Opening her mouth wide, she releases a torrent of ash from her lips at Tuonetar. It spews forth, filling the air, choking us all. The heat is enough to singe me as I cling to Loviatar.

“No,” Tuonetar shrieks, her voice muffled by the ash. “Kalma—faithless dog—”

“Come,” Loviatar says, pulling me away. “Now.”

I let Loviatar pull me out of the hall as Kalma continues to battle their mother, blinding the Witch Queen in her cloud of noxious ash. The dead guards surround Kiputytto, who fights ferociously with sword and flail.

Vammatar is nowhere to be seen.

“Come,” Loviatar says again, her voice urgent in my ear.

The door to my tower room slams shut, and Loviatar throws the bolt, locking us inside. I pant, chest heaving, ash dusting my coronation gown. Once I catch my breath, I glance around. Everything looks so peaceful. The covers have been turned down on the bed, a happy fire burns in the hearth, buttery rolls wait on a tray by a carafe of wine.

“This is madness.” Taking my crown off, I toss it on the bed. “Loviatar, what happened down there?”

The witch doesn’t turn from the door. She has her hands out, her eyes closed as she whispers a chant.

“Loviatar,” I say again, crossing the room to her side. “Mielikki’s prophecy. Why did it seem like the Witch Queen had already heard it?”

She doesn’t answer. Her tattooed fingers flex as she mutters low in her throat. Her eyes glow white, brighter than their usual cloudiness, as the sun shines through a fogbank.

“Loviatar!” I grab her wrist, turning her to face me. “As I am your queen, you will answer me.”

She twists free of my hold. “It is not for me to speak of it.”

“Do not keep me in the dark any longer. I cannot bear it. Mielikki’s prophecy spoke of a child, born of life and death. It spoke of Tuoni’s son. Am I his mother? Gods, it’s been but a few days. Is it already too late? Am I already pregnant?”

She stills. “Too late? You do not want to experience the joys of motherhood?”

“How can you think I would ever wish to bring a child into this darkness? If I were thinking with the head my mother gave me, there would be no question in my mind. I would already be taking the tonic.”

“Tonic?”

“As it is, I cannot be sure,” I admit. “But it’s not too late to stop it. And I will—”

Loviatar’s hand flies to my throat. Her nails pierce my skin as she squeezes. “You shall not squander this gift,” she hisses. “To be the mother of an immortal is a blessing. You have been chosen, Aina. Whether in one year or ten, you will bear the son of Tuoni. You will bring forth the Light of Louhi. And your son will save us all.”

Before I can reply, there comes a heavy pounding at the door.

“Let me in, wife.”

I suck in a breath as Loviatar drops her hand away from my throat. She moves to the door, pulling back the latch. While she’s distracted, I look desperately around. Moving over to the table, I tuck a knife up my sleeve.

The door swings open, and Tuoni enters. His clothes are dusted in ash. Blood stains his cheek and hands. His tunic is torn, his crown missing. “Tuonetar is secured in the tower,” he says. “We prepare the chains for your sisters now. I intend to sink them in the bog. Will you help me, Loviatar?”

Loviatar is quiet for a moment. “I will help Kalma prepare.” She steps around Tuoni towards the door. “Be warned, father. Your little mouse has a knife hidden up her sleeve.” With that, she leaves.

Tuoni faces me. “Is Loviatar right? Do you conceal a blade from me? Do you now fear I mean to hurt you?”

“I am not afraid. I’m furious.”

He takes a step closer. “What angers you, wife?”

I square my shoulders at him, taking strength from the knife blade tucked against my forearm. “You knew, didn’t you? This was your true design all along.”

His gaze darkens. “I am a god, wife. I know many things. Be more specific when you level an accusation at me.”

“The prophecy,” I cry, letting the knife slip down my forearm until I’m gripping the handle. “Mielikki’s words spoken just now from beyond the veil of life and death. Those words came from the All-Mother herself. I felt it, I know it. And you’ve heard them before... haven’t you?”

“A prophecy is only told once,” he replies. “None had ever heard the Forest Queen’s words before she spoke them below.”

“Then why did you show no surprise at her words? I saw your face, my lord. I felt you through our bond. There was only hunger, anticipation... relief.”

He takes a step closer, his hand raised. “Aina—”

“I thought Kalma was bringing us down here merely to find the one to free you. But you wanted us brought to you, didn’t you? You wanted to fulfill this prophecy. You weren’t looking for a mortal wife with whom to pass your days. All this time, you were looking for the one who would bear your child, your son. A true heir for death at last. That is all you want. I am nothing to you—”

He closes the distance between us, grabbing my shoulders. “Do not speak those foul words again.”

“Let me go—”

In his frustration and anger, his mortal mask slips. Beneath the beauty, a glimmer of eyes that burn like embers. I feel the iron of his hands as he clings to me. He almost seems to stretch, the darkness of the room pulling at him, making him taller as he towers over me. “Do not doubt me again,” he declares, smoke lacing his words.

I lean away, suddenly afraid of my god-husband.

He feels it through the bond, his hands softening, even as his mask flickers again. Life and death. Beauty and power. Control. Always control. “Aina, I love you—”

“You don’t know the meaning of the word!”

He lets me go.

“And how could you, trapped as you are in this foul place?” I go on. “You speak of the love you share with your daughters. But it is not love. They plot and scheme against you. They dismiss you and deny you. They only serve your wishes when it suits them. That is not love, my lord. They have all the loyalty of a skulk of foxes. You call it love because you are no better. You know no better. You plot and scheme too. You lie. You manipulate.” I step back, shaking my head. “In truth, you all deserve each other. You deserve to make each other miserable forever!”

“Are you finished?” he growls. “May I now speak?”

I back away from him until I hit the table’s edge with my hip. “I fear your words,” I admit. “I fear there will be no truth in them... and I fear I won’t know it.”

“I have told you the truth from the moment you freed me in the woods,” he replies, his voice soft and angry. “I don’t want you for the children you will give me. I wouldn’t care if you were barren. I was ready to risk it for your sake. I want you , my beautiful wife. You’re the light in my darkness—”

“Stop,” I cry, spinning away. “Stop saying that!”

“It’s true.”

“You say prophecies are heard only once. But you knew what she would say. You were not surprised! So, what prophecy did you hear, husband? Tell me. Trust me with the truth.”

He frowns, hands clenched at his sides. He’s quiet for a moment, searching my face. “It was not a prophecy.”

“What was it?”

A long moment of quiet stretches between us. “I think you know,” he says at last. “You know part of it, at least. You know of Loviatar’s daughter.”

I nod.

“She was dear to me, Aina,” he goes on. “As dear as a child ever could be. Her power was unlike anything this realm had ever seen. There was no darkness in it... no pain, no suffering. She was hope, pure and unbridled. She showed me what Tuonela could be. My dreams came from her. It was she who encouraged me to make this realm a better place. I would purge it of Tuonetar’s madness, of the twins and their pain and suffering, of Vammatar’s duplicitous evil. I would bring order to death, mercy and justice, peace and eternal rest.”

Though our bond, I can feel his emotions. Speaking of Loviatar’s daughter brings him such joy... and sorrow. He grieves her loss deeply. “She was helping you, wasn’t she? That’s why Tuonetar took her and hid her beneath the Kipum?ki.”

He nods. “Yes, Vammatar told her of our plans, and Tuonetar struck first. Tuonetar used the manacles I made to contain her and bound me in them instead, stifling my power. I couldn’t stop her from taking the child and hiding her away. Loviatar and I thought her dead. Loviatar grieved... and she hated me. I had to make it right. I could not live with the suffering I’d caused.”

My heart aches for them, for their pain and lonliness. Their dreams shattered, their hope taken, bound to a life of misery in the dark, watching as Tuonetar destroyed everything they built. “What happened next?”

His frown deepens. “There came a time when we were visited by V?in?moinen, here to look for secrets and spells. He found where the child had been hidden away. He vowed to tell me where she was if I agreed to help him set her free.”

“And did you?”

He nods. “It was the least I could do. She was never meant to live in this realm. She was too pure for us... too good. She deserved a life with the living, surrounded by mortals and their dreams. I knew it, and so did her mother.”

His story tallies with Loviatar’s, and something in my chest loosens. “I’ve heard the songs of great V?in?moinen and Antero Vipunen. They say he turned himself into a serpent and swam away through your river’s iron nets. They say he stole secrets.”

“He stole more than secrets. I helped him steal her away. We created a distraction while Loviatar got her out from under the hill. It’s how I got this,” he adds, gesturing to his eye.

“He hurt you?”

He frowns. “I pretended to be trying to capture him. It was a ruse, and Tuonetar saw through it. We had to improvise. Loviatar came to my aid while V?in?moinen and the girl barely managed to escape. As punishment, Tuonetar bound me to the alder tree and trapped Loviatar here in death.”

I sigh, my heart hurting for them both. I relax my hold on the knife in my sleeve. “I’m so sorry, Tuoni. What pain you’ve endured, what sacrifice you’ve made.”

Tuoni nods.

“And the prophecy? You knew there would be a child.”

He stills.

I step forward. “Please, Tuoni. I must know. There can be no secrets between us.”

He turns his face to the fire, lost in memories. “Before she left, my sweet girl granted me a parting gift. She showed me a vision of my future.”

“And... what was this vision?”

His mismatched eyes find mine. “She showed me a wife who shone like the sun... and in her arms, a child.”

“Am I the woman in the vision? Am I the one who will give you that child?”

“She had no face,” he admits. “The light shone from behind her like a rising sun.”

This thought gives me hope. “So, I could still go free.”

His frown deepens. “Go free?”

I take his hand in mine. “My lord, I would beg that you let me go. The woman in your vision has no face, you said it yourself. It doesn’t have to be me. Please, if you care for me at all, you’ll let me go before the witches finish what they started and kill me. Tuonetar will never let me live, I know that now. And I want to live. If my time in death has taught me anything, it’s how tenderly I care for life. Please , Tuoni—”

He shakes his head, turning away.

“Why do you turn your back to me?” I cry. “Why do you refuse to even consider letting me go? Perhaps I am not the one—”

“You are the one,” he shouts, turning back to me.

“No—”

“You are the one, Aina. You chose to be the one. This is your doing as much as mine.”

I shake my head. “No.”

“You fulfilled the prophecy, not me.”

“How?” I cry.

“You came willingly to Tuonela,” he shouts. “You said it yourself: you offered death your hand. You chose your fate to save your friend. Just as you came to me in the woods and married me to save her again, to save all the mortal girls from suffering the same fate.”

“I had to, my lord. It was my only choice.”

“Yes, you bound yourself to me, blood and soul. You let me place the driftwood crown on your head as you claimed your throne. You gave me your body freely. You are my lover, my wife, and my queen. You are my light. From you will come my son—”

“I am a mortal, and every witch in this realm now has reason to see me dead,” I shout. “If I am already pregnant with your son, and he shall claim dominion over death, then we are both at risk. No death god seeks to share power. They will hunt me all my days until this child is born. Then they will hunt him . We aren’t safe here, Tuoni. You can’t protect us—”

“Do not doubt my power!” he bellows, making every flame in the room roar to twice its height. Heat overwhelms me, burning my cheeks and singeing my dress.

I stand my ground, recalling the words I spoke to Loviatar in the sauna. “And do not doubt mine. You know nothing of a mother’s fierce love. If I carry your child, I defy even the All-Mother herself to stop me from keeping him safe. Stand in my way, and you will become my foe, too, husband.”

He leans away, looking down on me as if I were a stranger. “And what will you do if I keep you here?”

I hold his gaze, chin held high. Slipping the knife from my sleeve, I hold it to my throat, arching my neck back. “I would do anything to keep from bringing a child into this chaos. Anything at all.”

He sighs. I can almost feel his heart breaking through our bond. He raises a hand and snaps his fingers. I cry out as the weight of the knife in my hand disappears in a wisp of smoke. It was that easy for him to disarm me.

“If you dare to make threats on your life, then you must be watched at every moment, wife. I cannot risk losing you or my child. I’ve sacrificed too much already to find you both. I will keep you safe... even from yourself.” He turns for the door, and I feel my hope draining away.

“You were honorable once, my lord,” I call after him. “You saw the light and goodness in Loviatar’s girl, and you let her go.”

He turns back to me, his hand still on the latch. “And I have regretted it every day since. Ask Loviatar, and she will tell you the same.” He turns away to face the door. “My daughters will this night be bound in iron and cast into the bog. Tuonetar is locked in her tower. I ask that you make no attempt to leave this room. I will not come to you again until you ask for me.”

The door shuts, and I’m left alone. I sink to the floor, unable to hold back my sobs.

I am nothing to the gods. A mere mortal they use in their tricks and games. Expendable. Replaceable. Forgettable. The power I thought I’d taken is an illusion. I am on my own. I am alone.

When all my tears are shed, I fall back into my habit born from weeks of captivity. Like a caged animal, I pace from wall to door. I need a plan. I will be the mother of a death god, and many of the gods are aligned against me—against us. Any son of Tuoni will need a fierce mother if he is to survive. Aina and Ainatar must become one. These witches will come to know just how fearsome I can be. I dare them to come for us. I will be the one tearing out hearts with my teeth.

By the time my fire burns down to embers, I am resolved. I must leave Tuonela, marriage oaths be damned. Before the witches can break more of my bones. Before Tuoni breaks my heart and soul. I’m going back to the land of the living.

And my son is coming with me.