45

Aina

I wake alone in my wide bed, sheets twisted around my legs. I slept fitfully, my nightmares full of chasing and running. I dreamt of Surma and Kalma in the woods. I dreamt of Tuoni too. He called my name, looking for me as I cried out. But he couldn’t hear me, couldn’t see me. One of the witches held me down, her hand to my mouth.

I shake off the nightmares and sit up, jerking aside the curtain. Kukka is in the room, dutifully adding logs to my fire. The comforting scent of porridge fills my senses. Without being asked, Kukka brings me a cup of tea.

“Thank you,” I murmur, accepting the cup. I take a sip, enjoying the notes of spicy nettle and berry leaf sweetened with honey. With each sip, my mind clears. I take one last swallow, letting the warmth of the cup seep into my hands before setting it aside.

The time for wallowing is over. If I’m to plan my escape, I can’t stay trapped in this room with only Kukka for company. I’ll have to find a way to sneak to the river and cross it. Only Loviatar knows of the tunnel that leads out under the weaving room. If I can get to it unseen, perhaps I can get to the river. I’ll take my chances and swim. Siiri has always been the better swimmer, but I think I’ll manage, knowing my life depends on it.

And I have fate on my side. In Tuoni’s vision, a woman is standing in the sun, her child in her arms. I have to believe that Tuoni is right; that I’m the mother in the vision and I’m meant to return to the land of the living, the land of sun.

First, I have to get out of this room. The only way I’ll be free is if Tuoni lets me out. He has to trust me enough to let me go walking around the palace on my own. He has to let his guard down. I have to give him a reason to trust me again.

I have to trick him.

The thought sickens me. Aina wouldn’t even think of it. She’s far too principled. But Ainatar now has more to live for... more to die for. Perhaps the death gods must be forgiven for playing their games with mortals. More than our fleeting lives are at stake when prophecies are invoked.

I close my eyes, brushing an invisible finger along the threads of our bond. It’s almost impossible to comprehend the degree to which Tuoni has already woven himself into me. First as the raven, now as the man. Even when he’s not physically in my presence, I feel him, as he surely must feel me.

I glance around my tower room, now as much a prison as my first room was. The box holding my crown rests on the mantel over the crackling fire. The other box containing the jewels from Loviatar waits on my dressing table. Kukka has laid out a new dress for me. This one is far more sensible than the coronation dress, a simple thing of soft wool dyed moss green. She helps me dress and braids my hair.

My clothing feels like armor, and I’ll need it for what comes next. I must protect my heart at all costs. I’m already too vulnerable where Tuoni is concerned. He has the power to break me, to make me stay. He said he’d not come for me until I asked. Closing my eyes, I call to him.

“Tuoni,” I whisper to the room. “I need you.”

I feel a tight ball of tension loosen in my chest, and I know he’s heard me. This connection between us could be my undoing. How do I control it? Will he notice if I try to hide my feelings from him?

In moments, a knock at the door has me turning on my stool. Kukka opens the door to reveal the death god. He’s dressed as the hunter again. His long black hair is loose around his shoulders. He takes me in. “You didn’t sleep.”

“I slept a little,” I reply.

“Your dreams haunt you.”

“My nightmare is not yet over,” I reply. “So long as I’m not safe, I won’t sleep soundly again.”

“My love, you are safe,” he says, striding across the room. “I dealt with the twins. Kivutar and Kiputytto cannot harm you. Tuonetar is locked in her tower. What more must be done to assure you that you will come to no harm? Tuonela is not just a realm of nightmares,” he goes on, his tone pleading. “It is a realm of dreams. There is beauty here, possibility too... if you will but open your eyes and see it.”

I take the opening he’s offering. “Show me,” I whisper.

“Show you?”

I nod, holding out my hand. “Show me something beautiful, husband. Show me one of your dreams.”

He smiles. “Get your cloak.”

Snow lies thick on the ground, but I don’t feel cold. Tuoni and I are bundled up in wool and fur, our hoods pulled up against the chill. Our feet crunch through the snow as he leads me away from the palace walls. Behind us, the lights of the palace cast a golden haze over the snow.

“Where do you take me?” I say, my voice soft.

“Not much farther,” he replies, leading us towards a thick stand of fir trees. He pushes his way through, uncaring that he’ll cover himself in snow.

“My lord, what—” I cry out as he pulls me after him. I use his larger frame to block the slapping branches, snow dusting my face. One branch pulls my hood back. “Tuoni—”

“Come, love,” he says on a laugh. “Nearly there.”

I stumble through the last of the firs and gasp, spinning around. We’re no longer in a dense forest on a cold winter night. We’re in a forest clearing, and it seems to be spring. At the far end of the glade, a small waterfall flows into a babbling brook. A path along the water’s edge is lit with lanterns. The mossy clearing is dotted with ferns and wildflowers in every color—lily of the valley, bluebells, pink anemone, violets.

“Where are we?” I whisper. “Why is it so much warmer here?”

“This is the Grove of Eternal Spring,” he replies, smiling down at me. “It was made for my daughters long ago. On cold winter nights like this one, they’d come here and bathe in the pool, picking flowers hour by hour.”

My heart flutters. “You made it? This is your magic?”

“This is the magic of Tuonela,” he corrects. “Even death can be beautiful. It can be a blessing, a relief. It is the twin of life. All that is good and all that is bad; they are reflected in each other. They balance each other.” He takes a step closer, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Thus far, you have seen only the bad. Tuonetar and my daughters made sure of that.”

“Why do they fear this child so much?” I whisper, my hand going unconsciously to my stomach. I look up at him, tears in my eyes. “What harm can he do?”

The death god brushes his knuckles against my cheek. “They fear what they don’t know, my love. You heard Mielikki’s words. Our son will wield power over death. Can you imagine such a thing?”

“But you already control death...”

He shakes his head. “No, we control the dead, and we can influence the act of dying. Tuonetar weaves the threads of chaos, Kiputytto turns her stones of pain, Kivutar stirs her boiling pot, Loviatar casts forth plagues... and Kalma collects the tortured dead and brings them below.”

I suppress a shiver. “And you, husband? What do you do?”

He sighs, closing his eyes. Then he tips his head back, his body going still. A pained expression crosses his face. He’s trying to hold something back from me. It’s like a curtain waving in the wind blown through an open window; it makes the fire hiss and dance.

It’s pain. The deep, throbbing pain of dying, bone-deep and exhausting.

“Oh gods...” Reaching out, I squeeze his hand. “You hold it back... don’t you? You delay death. You carry it on your shoulders, breathing it in, giving the living more time.”

He trembles with weariness, his eyes blinking open. His face takes on a mournful look. “I am the Great Fading, Lord of Blessed Death. But don’t you see? I can delay it only. I can’t stop it. I certainly cannot reverse its course. None of us can.”

I drop his hand and step back. My hand flutters over my abdomen. “You think this child... you think he’ll be able to stop death?”

His eyes flash with excitement. “Think of it, my love. A child born to a mortal mother and the god of death. Living and dying, in one body. Mortal and immortal. He shall be the embodiment of the great balance. Such a child would have magic truly fearsome to behold.”

Death shall be powerless in his hands.

Could this child be the unmaking of Tuonela?

She will free us .

Loviatar’s words shouted at the Witch Queen echo in my mind. The goddess is so sure of my fate that she risks her own life to protect mine. She needs me alive. She needs this child alive. What will happen to us? Can there be a world without death? Will that not upset the balance even more?

“You are fierce, wife,” Tuoni says, his tone gentle. “You want to keep fighting me.” His lips brush my cool brow. “I feel it in the bond. I felt it all night. You can keep nothing from me.”

I go still, heart in my throat.

He knows.

His hands squeeze my shoulders. “Yes... you think on it even now. You think of crossing that river. You think of escaping and taking my son with you.” Leaning away, he cups my jaw, tilting my face up.

I search his mismatched eyes, looking for his rage, his indignation. I see only sadness. My heart breaks for this lonely raven, this lovesick man. His end of the bond is a riot of conflicting emotions. Those calculating eyes stare through me, rooting me to the soft, mossy soil of this enchanting eternal spring.

“Very well,” he says at last. “Your body may be supple as a reed, but your will is a bar of iron. You wish to leave me.” His expression is one of anguish. “I cannot bear to see you suffer, my love.”

“What are you saying, my lord?”

He holds my gaze. “I will grant your wish. I will return you to the land of the living.”

My heart drops. “Oh, Tuoni—”

He raises a hand to silence me. His dark eye smolders like a burning coal, and his white eye seems almost to glow. “I will release you to the realm of the living,” he intones, “only after the child is born.”

I close my eyes, knowing what he’ll say next. “Tuoni, no—”

He slams the door of our bond shut, knocking the wind from me. He’s forcing me from his soul and his heart. He doesn’t want me to witness them breaking.

“Tuoni—”

“You will stay, or you will go,” he continues.

“Please don’t do this.” I press at the door of our bond, pounding with my fists, begging to be let back in. “Tuoni, please .” I drop to my knees, hands digging into the mossy soil. “Don’t make me choose.”

He ignores my tears, his emotions now locked deep in an iron box in his heart. “Stay or go, Ainatar, Queen of Tuonela... but my son stays with me. He shall never leave the realm of death.”