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)
We tread carefully, and I’m half-expecting another ambush, or for Rasmus to try some trick, even though he’s still bound and the Magician gagged him with mycelia again. Thankfully, though, nothing disturbs our journey—no sign of Louhi’s henchmen, no flash of monstrous eyes between the trees. There’s only an uneasy calm that leaves my nerves taut as a wire.
My leg throbs and burns, and I grit my teeth, determined not to slow us down. Ahead, the Magician’s hooded form glides almost soundlessly between towering trunks, as if he’s a ghost. Rasmus shuffles behind me, his breathing shallow and irregular. I’m starting to think Yggthra might have cracked a rib or two of his, and I warn myself not to feel sorry for him.
We press on and, before long, shapes begin to loom in the twilight of the forest. More than just trees now—structures, perhaps, wooden huts half-buried in leaves and vines, overgrown platforms winding around colossal trunks. The scent of moss and rich soil intensifies, and an odd warmth blows through the damp air.
Something stirs beyond the ferns, and we freeze, my sword half-raised, my heart pounding.
A sudden whisper runs through the trees, like leaves brushing against bark, and then, they appear. At first, I don’t recognize them. They look too rooted in this place, as much a part of the forest as the trees themselves.
Tapio emerges from behind a massive cedar, his beard a wilderness of twisted branches and tangled moss. A squirrel peeks from within his leafy tangle, their eyes curious and afraid. When the Forest God recognizes us, he lifts a hand in greeting, leaves falling from his sleeves like dust motes.
Behind him stands his daughter, Tellervo, her wild red hair tangled over her shoulders. Two small antlers curl from her head, adorned with ribbons of vine and flowers. She peers at us through narrowed green eyes, posture guarded, brow furrowed in mistrust, even though we have met many times before. I guess I can’t really blame her; I probably shouldn’t be trusting them either, especially with Louhi’s black magic permeating these woods.
They are not alone. More shapes flit behind them—lesser forest spirits, perhaps—staying to the shadows, chittering and whispering anxiously. I have never seen them like this before: hiding, uncertain, on edge, as if they fear their own home. It’s enough to get me to lower my defenses.
Tapio’s voice crackles softly through the silence. “Lovia? What news do you bring?” He rakes his eyes over me and the Magician, lingering on Rasmus with clear disdain. The squirrel darts back into his beard, as if to emphasize his agitation.
Tellervo steps forward, head tilted, antlers catching a stray beam of dim forest light. She eyes Rasmus first, lip curling. “You dare come here with him?” she demands, her voice sharper than thorns at the edge of the thicket. “He stinks of Louhi’s foul magic.”
At the mention of Louhi, the lesser spirits hiss quietly from the greenery, and a hush falls so thick, I can almost taste the tension.
The Magician raises a hand, galaxies swirling faintly in the dark void beneath his hood. “We mean no harm, Tapio, Tellervo,” he says smoothly, voice resonating between the trunks. “We seek your help. Shadow’s End has been taken over. Tuoni and Hanna have been disposed of, Louhi is controlling Death’s double, and Salainen is pretending to be Hanna.”
Tapio’s eyes narrow as he strokes his beard, dislodging a sparrow that flutters out nervously. “I knew it. I knew something was wrong. That’s why we left Shadow’s End in a hurry after the bone match. Where is Tuonen? I tried to warn him, but I’m not sure he understood.”
At the mention of my brother’s name, my heart sinks. “You haven’t seen him?”
The Magician had said he felt my brother was still alive, but other than that, I have no idea where he could be.
Tapio shakes his head. “Only at Shadow’s End. We escaped in the night. I had a feeling in my gut that I wasn’t dealing with either Tuoni or Hanna. I knew it was Louhi’s influence.”
Fuck. That means Tuonen might still be with her. I can only hope that when he realizes the truth—he’s bound to sooner or later—that he at least fakes it with her. If she knows he’s wise to her, I don’t know what she’ll do. Once upon a time, I could never imagine my mother hurting either of us, but now that I know what she’d do to take over the world and unleash Kaaos, I fear he won’t be spared.
“Where have you come from?” Tellervo asks us, still glaring at Rasmus. “And why is he here?”
“I had been ferrying the boat when the Old Gods began to rise,” I explain, trying to give her the simplest version of events. “I battled them before I ran into the Magician. The City of Death has collapsed, with Inmost breaking free. There is no more Golden Mean or Amaranthus. There is only depravity.”