Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 125422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
“I thought I would never see you again,” Lovia says, her words muffled against my coat. “This is the last place I thought I’d find you.”
“And I you,” I admit. I pull away, holding her by the shoulders. She looks pale, scratched up, a little worse for wear overall, but her eyes blaze with strength. “And Tuonen?” I dare to ask. “Where is he?”
She shakes her head, her mouth set in a firm line. “I don’t know. Tapio last saw him at Shadow’s End, where Salainen and Louhi have taken your places.”
I gulp and give her shoulders a squeeze. “Louhi won’t hurt him. She needs him. We’ll get him out of there, if he hasn’t escaped already. That boy is slippery when he needs to be.”
As before, I don’t let myself think of the alternative.
“I’m so very glad you’re here,” I add, giving her a tight smile. “I’m going to need you at my side.”
But my joy is short-lived, for the moment I look up and see Vellamo slowly approaching, I know something horrible has happened. I can see it in her eyes, the pain and sorrow swimming in them. They brim with tears; not for a happy reunion, but for grief.
For death.
“Where is Ahto?” I whisper. Usually, my brother isn’t too far behind. I glance over at Tapio and Tellervo as they gather around us, but they too share a similar haunted look, their shoulders drooping in defeat.
“Tuoni…” Vellamo says in her low voice. She steps forward, Tellervo taking the sword from her hands, and the Goddess of the Sea suddenly crumbles, dropping to her knees. I catch her before she hits the ground, hauling her up as she cries.
She grasps at my coat, and I embrace her, feeling sick to my stomach as she floods me with tears as strong and plentiful as a river.
And that’s when I know my brother is dead.
“No,” I say thickly, my chest caving in like a sinkhole. “It can’t be. It can’t be. How?”
She continues to cry, and at one point, I look down to see tiny minnows swimming in the pool of tears she has left on the ground.
“Killed by an Old God,” Lovia explains grimly. “The same thing happened to Mielikki and Nyyrikki.”
“Probably not the same God,” Tapio says, his voice rough. “But they’re out there, Tuoni, destroying us one by one. Soon, there will be nothing left of Tuonela.”
If I wasn’t holding Vellamo, I would crush someone’s bones under my hands; the rage that spreads through me is sharp, deep, vicious. Louhi’s Old Gods have not only killed my brother, my own beloved flesh and blood, but taken the souls of two innocents meant to protect the forest. Three of my brethren, lost to eternal torture in Oblivion.
I look over at Rasmus, at his flaming red hair, his smug, pallid face that can’t hide what he is underneath. Venom overtakes me, and I’m pushing Vellamo into Lovia’s arms and striding toward the minor shaman.
“You!” I bark, a ferocious rattle sounding in my chest, like an animal about to escape, about to attack.
About to kill.
“Tuoni, no!” Torben yells, running after me, but it’s too late.
I pull my glove off and reach out for Rasmus’ throat with my bare hand, prepared to squash his windpipe and send another soul to Oblivion.
Suddenly, without warning, my hand freezes, inches from his skin.
I stare into his eyes, and they peer back at me with nothing but the fear of death. Still, I can’t move.
What the fuck is happening?
I look over at Torben, figuring the shaman’s magic must be working overtime to try and control me, something I didn’t know he was capable of, only to find he’s staring at us in shock.
Then, the Magician steps out from behind Rasmus, his black sparkling hand extended from his flowing robe, finger pointed toward me.
“We need him,” the Magician says, slowly coming closer. “For more than this moment of revenge. You’d feel powerful for a second, Tuoni, but then his death would mean nothing. It won’t bring back Ahto, won’t bring back any of them. It won’t change the tide.”
Fuck. Why did he have to be right?
“You cryptic son of a bitch,” I grind out, glaring at his faceless form. “What are you even doing here anyway?”
“I’ve drawn all my cards,” he says, “except for a few up my sleeves. Now, please, refrain from killing Rasmus, as much as you want to. Trust that you need to keep him alive. Focus on saving Tuonela and not on petty revenge.”
“How dare you think my revenge is petty!” I let out a roar of frustration when I try to move my hand again. Close—I am so close, but the Magician’s magic is impossibly strong. “I should be able to kill whomever I want to avenge my brother!”
“But not him,” he says simply.