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)
But if he knew about Tuonen and didn’t tell me…I can’t bear to think of it. I know the Magician has been inside me in ways I can’t even explain, making me writhe in heavenly ecstasy and bend time, but if he knew about Tuonen, I would probably kill him. Or at least attempt to. How does one kill the universe?
Hanna occasionally quickens her pace to keep step beside my father, brushing his arm. She’s trying to offer comfort, though I can’t tell if he accepts it. He hasn’t spoken since we left the cavern where Tuonen fell. His silence is more suffocating than the air down here.
The caves seem endless, a labyrinth of shadows and echoes. My torch flickers weakly, casting feeble light on the jagged walls. I’ve always hated the caves, the oppressive darkness, the feeling of being buried alive. Now, it feels even worse. Every corner, every shadow feels like it’s watching us, waiting for a moment of weakness to strike again.
We eventually reach another cave, nearly as big as the one before. There’s something strangely familiar about it and I’m about to voice this when Hanna stops and says, “I know this place. I’ve been here before.”
My father halts at the entrance, his grip on Tuonen tightening. He looks up at the empty rock face, his jaw clenched, his eyes shadowed. “Vipunen,” he calls, his voice steady but low. “We’ve come back. Show yourself. If you have had anything to do with this...” his threat trails off.
Vipunen! That’s why this place is familiar. I’ve been in here many times fighting with the giant, except I was always wearing a blind mask so I never really saw what the cave looked like. Nor Vipunen, for that matter. Apparently if we lay eyes on him, we die.
“Maybe we don’t want him to show himself,” I say to my father. “Remember?”
But it doesn’t matter. The only response is the faint rustle of air through the tunnels, then silence.
“Do you think he’s gone?” Tellervo asks softly, her voice trembling.
My father doesn’t answer. Walks forward and sets Tuonen down gently on a flat slab of stone, his movements careful, reverent. Hanna stands beside him, her face pale and drawn, but the aura around her still glowing, reminding us she’s no longer who she once was.
I have to admit, I’m actually envious of her. I would give anything to not feel what I’m feeling right now, would give anything to just have this horrible crushing weight lifted from me even for a mere second.
“I’ll scout ahead,” I say, unable to bear the stillness any longer. My legs itch to move, my mind desperate for distraction.
“No one should be alone,” the Magician says, his voice calm but firm.
I glare at him. “If you know something then say something,” I snap at him, hand on my sword. “I’m not going far.”
He doesn’t argue, but I feel his gaze follow me as I move toward the far end of the cavern. I hear my father ask, “Where is she going?” but I keep walking.
The air grows colder as I step deeper into the shadows. My torch flickers, casting distorted shapes on the walls. My heart pounds, and I tell myself it’s just the weight of everything that’s happened, not fear. Not weakness.
Then I hear it.
A whisper.
It’s faint, almost like a breeze slipping through cracks in the stone, but it carries a strange cadence, as if forming words I can’t quite understand. I freeze, my grip tightening on my sword.
“Vipunen?” I call, my voice barely above a whisper.
No answer.
The whisper comes again, softer this time, curling around my ears like smoke. It seems to beckon me, pulling me toward a narrow crevice in the rock. My pulse quickens, and despite every instinct screaming at me to turn back, I step closer.
Surely if something bad were to happen, the Magician would have said something, right?
“Vipunen?” I say again, louder this time. “Give me a warning if that’s you, I don’t want turn to stone, or whatever it is that you do.”
The whisper doesn’t respond, but it grows clearer, sharper, as if it’s leading me somewhere. I squeeze through the crevice, the stone scraping against my armor and my injured shoulder, making me wince. On the other side, the tunnel widens into a small chamber. It’s dimly lit by a faint blue glow emanating from veins in the rock.
The whisper stops.
I turn in a slow circle, my sword and lantern raised, searching for the source of the sound. The chamber is empty, but the air feels wrong, heavy with a presence I can’t see. My breath fogs in the chill, and I feel the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.
“Vipunen, if this is one of your riddles, I’m not in the mood,” I say, my voice echoing off the walls.