Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 110034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 550(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 550(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
But if Rasmus truly is the son of Louhi, then perhaps magic came into play in his creation, and if that’s the case, then we might be in for a world of trouble. I’ve dabbled with shadow magic before—The Book of Runes inside the Library of the Veils contains a spell for a Shadow Self that I created—but many safeguards and precautions must be taken when invoking the magic and using the shadows, or else the shadows can become…difficult. It’s one thing to create a double of yourself or a shadow twin, it’s another if you’re using shadows to impregnate yourself. A child born from that magic has the capacity to not only have a lot of power, but to do a world of harm in unpredictable ways.
I have to wonder if Rasmus even knows the truth about his mother.
If he does know the truth though, then that’s the end of Hanna.
There’s a sudden, sharp burst of pain in my chest at the thought that wars with the building rage inside me. As fantastically angry as I am at her for leaving, Sarvi is right in that Rasmus might have told her anything to get her to leave. And if he knows he’s Louhi’s son, then I have a feeling he’s leading Hanna straight to her. My imagination is certainly depraved, but it isn’t big enough to think of all the things Louhi might have planned for her.
“We have to find Hanna,” I tell Sarvi.
The unicorn lowers its wings in gesture. I’ll take you to Shadow’s End first. Lovia was with Hanna last, she might have more information on what happened.
I quickly get on Sarvi’s back and we take off. The storm is waning, which means Rasmus must be confident that he’s in the clear but, until I find Hanna, I only have one way in which to stop them.
I let myself go to a dark place. A place darker than the Caves of Vipunen, where I first woke up in this realm, stepping into this role as the God of Death through pain and pure horror. I go to that dark place, a place where abhorrent monsters of anger and decay live, and I let it sink into my bones and consume me, just as long as it gets the job done.
In my bones, I feel a storm forming in the rest of the land beyond the mountains, something terrible and menacing and hungry. Something that should stop Rasmus and Hanna dead in their tracks.
It should buy us enough time.
Sarvi takes me right to his tower, and I’m already jumping off the winged beast and landing on the lookout, the stones shaking beneath my feet. I head straight down the stairs, Sarvi hurrying behind me. I’m grateful that Vipunen told me to build the passageways and stairways in the castle large enough to accommodate bigger creatures, knowing that Sarvi would be a loyal advisor and servant after that.
Sometimes I wonder just how much Antero Vipunen knows. As a child, all I heard were fantastical stories about him and that no one who ever laid eyes on the giant lived. I used to wonder if Vipunen was even a giant at all. How would anyone know unless they saw him? But I never dared to voice that growing up. Being a child of Gods meant you had rules to follow and roles to play and to never question the order of things. Order needed to be kept so that all the worlds beyond the worlds could function.
But now that eons have passed, now that there are dangers popping up that threaten to undo all this order, I’m second-guessing everyone and everything. Perhaps that’s my failing as king and lord and God. Perhaps I should have been second-guessing everything from the very beginning.
I would have started with Vipunen. I would have figured out why no one can see him, why his cryptic remarks and prophecies only seem to add chaos to my life. He has told me that he is impartial to the world and yet he’s been a part of my world since I first become ruler, taking on the role of a father figure, since my own father pretty much fucked off. Turns out Gods don’t make the best dads.
Speaking of being a father…
“Lovia!” I call out as we reach the top landing. I can sense my daughter’s frantic energy nearby.
She comes bursting out of my study, eyes round, blonde hair flowing behind her, wringing her hands together
“Father!” she cries out, borderline hysterical. “Where were you? We were waiting for you in the crypt, and then something started attacking the castle and I brought Hanna up to your room to keep her safe and now she’s gone!”
“So I’ve been told,” I tell her, marching past her, toward my chambers. The door is open and the room looks as I left it this morning, neat and tidy. You can’t expect to rule over the dead if your bed is unmade.