48
Siiri
My senses are a riot of emotions. Aina just kissed me. I can still taste her on my lips—sweet as a raspberry, soft as cooling mint. But Aina is married to the death god. And she’s pregnant. She’s scared and alone. She’s fought so hard and suffered so much.
I knew this place might change her. It took me so long to journey north and find V?in?moinen—too long. All the while, she remained trapped down here, fighting to survive. My brave Aina. She said she killed someone. She lured the death god to her aid. She claimed the Witch Queen’s crown. Is Tuonetar dead? I don’t intend to stay long enough to find out.
It will take all my cunning to get us out, and she’s willing to come home. That’s all I need to know. I will get her to the edge of the veil or die trying. “Follow me,” I say. “Quick and quiet as you can.”
Before I can turn, all my senses fire in alarm. Someone is here. I can feel them. I hear the soft crunch of snow.
“Aina,” a low, female voice calls from the other side of the willow tree. “Who are you talking to?”
My hand falls to the quiver at my hip, but one sharp look from Aina tells me violence isn’t an option.
“I’m here, Loviatar,” she calls out.
My jaw clenches tight. The blind goddess of illness sweeps the willow branches aside, stepping under the shadows to join us. She’s tall and austere looking, with thin lips, a narrow face, and long black hair trailing down her back. I expected the goddess of pestilence and plagues to look sicklier, but one might even call her beautiful.
But Loviatar took my mother. She takes so many—mothers from daughters, husbands from wives. So much death. So much pain and suffering. I want to blame her. I want to hate her. But I’m learning more about the balance. All gods must be respected. All gods serve a purpose.
And it was Loviatar who saved V?in?moinen.
The goddess stares unblinking at the space between us. “I assume you use my name to signal my identity to your companion,” she says in greeting. “They clearly know you, but they do not know me by sight alone. Which means they are not from this realm, nor are they an immortal.”
Aina take a step closer to her. “Loviatar, please—”
The witch raises a hand to silence her. She shifts her raised hand ever so slightly to the left. Then she curls her fingers down and points directly at me. “Who are you, little fox?”
I glance to Aina, readying for a fight.
Aina shakes her head again. “Just tell her,” she whispers.
I face the goddess. “My name is Siiri.”
The corner of the witch’s mouth twitches in what I assume is meant to be a smile. “Ah... the one and only Siiri.” Her white eyes narrow on Aina. “Your Siiri is a shaman? You kept that quiet, little mouse.”
“I didn’t know,” Aina replies honestly.
I take a step closer. I won’t be able to breathe until I put Aina safely behind me. “Goddess, I was trained by V?in?moinen himself. He waits with my body in life even now. He sends his regards—”
“Do not speak of him,” she hisses.
“You helped him once.” I inch my shoulder in front of Aina. “You helped each other. Please, goddess—”
She scoffs. “Is that the word he uses? I shouldn’t be surprised that he claims to have helped me. That shaman took everything from me.”
“I know exactly what he took from you,” I counter. “What he took for you—”
“We will not speak of it!”
Aina places a hand on my arm. “Siiri, this is not the way.”
I shrug away from her, with eyes only for the goddess. “The ancient forest giant Antero Vipunen told him where to find your daughter. She was held hostage by the Witch Queen beneath the Kipum?ki. You tried to free her, but spells kept the door sealed even from you. He taught you the spells needed to break her out.”
A single tear slips down the witch’s pale face. “Stop. No more.”
“Hope no longer dwells in this dark place,” I intone. “She is free. You freed her. We ask you to give this new hope a chance. Let me take Aina with me. Together, we’ll work with V?in?moinen to restore all that was lost. We will restore the balance. We will bring peace to the Finns. Surely, that will please the death gods too.”
Aina places a gentle hand on my shoulder as she steps around me. She looks tenderly at the witch. “I’m so sorry, Loviatar,” she whispers. “I know the grief you’ve lived with these long years. It takes the bravest of mothers to give a child away.”
Loviatar glares at her.
“But you don’t regret setting her free of this place. Any good mother would have done the same.” She steps closer. “I only ask for the same chance you had,” she pleads. “Let me protect my son. Let me leave with him before the other death witches tear us apart.”
Loviatar’s face is impossible to read. She cups Aina’s cheek with all the tenderness of a mother. “You cannot get something for free, little mouse. Not in this realm.”
Aina stiffens. “Name your price.”
“Set me free,” the witch commands. “My daughter and I have waited a lifetime to be together again. Now it is you who thwarts me. You’ve proved to be no more merciful than my wretched mother.”
I glance between them, confused.
Aina’s gaze is resolute as she mirrors the death witch’s stance. “My mercy is boundless,” she counters. “As are my love and fidelity. But I must be met halfway, Loviatar. I will not negotiate with you on that score. That price has already been set.”
Loviatar hisses in frustration. “You still doubt my love?”
“Just tell me her name,” Aina whispers. “Trust me as I am trusting you. We can all escape here together. We can be free. Please, Loviatar, meet me halfway.”
I try to puzzle out their argument, glancing between them. “Your daughter? Is that what this is about?”
The witch stands across from us, her eyes unblinking.
“You want to see your daughter again?” I press. “We can make that happen. I’ll talk to V?in?moinen. Between the two of us, we can find a way. We can bring her to you—”
“No,” the witch snarls. With a sweep of her arm, she grabs Aina, pulling her in against her chest, her clawed hand at Aina’s throat.
Aina cries out in surprise, her hands clasping the witch’s wrist.
I drop my hand to the top of my axe.
“Don’t even think about it.” The witch tightens her hold at Aina’s neck, her fingernails pinching Aina’s fair skin tightly enough to draw blood. “You will not bring my daughter back to this place. Swear it, shaman.”
I search her face, sensing her fear. “You’re scared. You know she’s not safe here.”
“None of us are,” Aina says through the hand at her throat.
“ Swear it,” the witch presses.
“I swear,” I reply, taking this bold chance. This witch is spilling my Aina’s blood. There’s nothing I won’t do to make it stop. “I shall never bring your daughter to Tuonela... on the condition that you let me leave now with Aina.”
The witch hisses in rage, black magic creeping down the veins of her arms. Her eyes shift from pools of fog to orbs of darkest night. Her voice takes on a breathy rasp. “You challenge a death goddess, mortal?”
“I offer a bargain. Give me Aina now, and I swear on the All-Mother, I will do everything in my power to keep your daughter from this place.” I take a step closer, all my hunting instincts humming inside me. “But keep my Aina from me, and I will personally shove your precious child through the veil and drop her squealing at the Witch Queen’s feet.”
The witch snarls, her teeth sharpened to deadly points. “There is no threat to my daughter’s safety if you’re dead, shaman. And my father will suffer no rivals to live. Say goodbye to your precious Siiri,” she taunts at Aina, giving her cheek a kiss.
“No—” Aina struggles, tugging at the witch. “Siiri, go—now—”
I use the distraction of Aina’s movement to tug loose my axe. With a single lunging step, I swing high, bludgeoning the goddess in the side of the head. Aina cries out as the witch’s hand at her throat goes slack. The goddess looks briefly surprised, almost impressed, before she drops to the snow in a tangle of white robes and black hair.