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 pray it’s not wishful thinking.
I row through the darkness, water dripping from stalactites like a strange, slow applause. Rauta’s silhouette remains steady, a guardian who knows no fear. I need to borrow some of the dog’s courage.
Eventually, the waterways narrow until the light is a bright pinprick at the end of the tunnel, which slowly grows bigger and blinding until we find ourselves in the Crystal Caves.
Like before, there are amethyst stalactites, but it has increased tenfold. There are also formations of citrine, rose quartz, aquamarine, and fire quartz coming from all directions, including up through the water like a forest of shimmering tree trunks.
Even Rauta looks in awe as his eyes take in the cave, everything sparkling and shimmering in millions of pastel shades. It’s beautiful and mesmerizing, especially as the crystals seem to emit a faint melodic chime, but even so, I remain on guard. I know I can’t take anything for granted here.
Eventually, the boat slides against the shore, against sand made of crushed crystals in shifting colors and fine white moss, the water in the shallows the color of pink milk.
Rauta leaps onto the land as I step out of the boat, my sword gripped firmly. There’s a passage ahead of us, the walls made of tourmaline. It leads somewhere, hopefully the way out.
Rauta trots off in that direction, and I start to follow.
“Tuonen, Son of Death,” a deep, primordial voice echoes through the caves, causing stalactites of quartz and amethyst to fall from the ceiling and shatter.
Rauta stops and barks, looking at me over his shoulder for guidance.
Vipunen!
I thought we could end up near Vipunen’s cave, the all-knowing giant who taught Lovia and I how to fight in our blind masks. But now that alliances have shifted, the cryptic deity might be as compromised as the rest of them.
“Come closer,” the giant’s voice rumbles, coming from everywhere all at once. “Do you see that light?”
The glow shines in the distance, illuminating the pockets of crystals in the walls, turning everything a shade of lavender.
“Follow the light,” he booms.
“How do we know we can trust you?” I ask, wincing at the tremble in my voice, though the sword remains steady in my grip.
“At this point, Tuonen, I don’t think you have a choice,” he says with a chuckle. “If I meant you any harm, I would have caused it already.”
Uh huh.
“And that thing back there wasn’t it?”
“Oh, that?” Vipunen booms. “That was just Iku-Turso, an Old God I haven’t seen in a very long time. Pain in the ass, if you ask me, but you did a fine job of disposing of it. Better you hurry in case another takes its place. Those tentacles regenerate, you know.”
I glance behind me at the water and sigh, exchanging a look with Rauta.
Looks like we don’t have a choice.
CHAPTER EIGHT
DEATH
The wind bites at my face as we step out of the barracks into the bleak Finnish winter, the sky a pall of heavy, low clouds that seem to trap the light. It’s midday, and yet everything is as dim as twilight. We stand on a tarmac that leads to the fields beyond, where a procession of trucks sits rumbling, idling in place. Soldiers—my soldiers, at least for now—wait in half-dazed silence. Their breath clouds in the air, their gloved hands clenching rifles, their bodies bundled against the cold in white-and-black camo that makes them blend in with the scenery. I’ve numbed their fear, their reason, their doubts. With me guiding their thoughts, they do as I ask, their minds barely aware of how strange all of this is.
And this is all very fucking strange.
Torben stands beside me, tugging at his scarf, his blue eyes watering as the wind whips against us. He found the spell and cast it, a fine step forward. Now, we just have to get to the place where the portal will be summoned. Thankfully, it’s not far—just a few valleys over. Torben explained that the right combination of natural ley lines converge deep in that forest, lending itself to magical manipulation. With ash, salt, and a spark of the Underworld’s essence—mine—we can open a doorway back home.
“Is everyone ready?” I ask, voice echoing in the hushed gloom.
General Pekka gives a curt nod before he barks an order in Finnish. The soldiers move, mechanical yet quiet, the snow crunching beneath their boots as they clamber into the back of the trucks. The engines growl. No one questions the strangeness of it all—a God of Death, an old shaman, and a troop of mortal soldiers heading off into the wilderness, simply because there is no one out here in the middle of nowhere to witness it.
Torben and I climb into the truck with General Pekka at the wheel. I lean out the window and raise a hand, and the drivers, as if guided by invisible strings, set the trucks into motion. We head out along a narrow, snow-packed road, the tires grinding over ice. The forest on either side grows taller, darker, going from bare birch to thick pine. Though the heater is on full blast, the wind still finds its way into the truck and cuts through my cloak, chilling me in a way that reminds me of how out of my element I am. I hate how utterly human this world makes me feel. I hate that it makes me feel period.