Page 30 of Goddess of Light
LOVIA
I freeze,raising my hand to tell the others to stop and quiet.
The wail came from inside the thin woods.
I glance nervously behind me, wondering what we should do.
I’m about to ask Tapio if he can communicate with the flora outside the Hiisi Forest when he says, “Wait.”
“What is it?” I whisper harshly as he slowly walks toward me, his snow-crusted brows drawn together. “What could have made such a sound?”
It was so raw, I still hear it echoing in my mind.
“I’m not sure,” he says with a shake of his head. “It’s just something I recognize, that I feel. I don’t think it’s any foe of ours.”
I look back at the woods. The spaces between the trees seems to have grown darker. Then, the wail sounds again, loud, powerful, and pitiful.
“I recognize the sorrow,” Tapio says. “Someone is mourning. We know our enemies could never feel such emotion.”
“Who are you!?” Tellervo suddenly yells into the trees, causing ice pheasants to fly from the canopy, their wings beating like drums as they head north.
All of us freeze.
“Shhh,” Tapio chides her, his eyes blazing with fear.
“But you just said—” she protests.
“I didn’t say I was certain,” he argues.
“What’s done is done,” the Magician says from the back. “Call again.”
I clear my throat. “Who is in there?” I call out, cupping my hands over my mouth. “My name is Loviatar, Goddess of the Dead. I am passing through, searching for my father. You sound like you’re in distress.”
My words seem to be swallowed by the snow as silence falls around us.
“Maybe we scared her,” Tellervo whispers.
“Maybeyouscared her,” Rasmus chides her. “If it is a her, that is.”
I keep a steady eye on the woods, my ears straining for any sound.
“Should we go in or…?” I ask. I know I’m supposed to lead, but a good leader doesn’t do anything without consulting their group. Anyway, I’m not sure what we should do, though I don’t want them to know that.
“There,” Tapio says in a hush. “Look.”
I squint my eyes at the trees and realize he must have better eyesight than I do, because it takes a few seconds for me to spot something moving between the white trunks—something blue, tall, and glistening.
Wearing a coral crown broken in places.
“Vellamo!” I cry out. I nearly drop the sword in surprise and start sprinting toward the Goddess of the Sea.
She pauses at the edge of the thicket, and her gaze contains so much sadness, it stops me in my tracks.
“What happened?” I whisper.
She puts her hand to her chest, licking her lips, trying to find the words. I have a feeling she might just collapse into the snow with grief.
Then, she looks over my shoulder at the rest of them, her gaze growing hard when she spots Rasmus, and some sort of dignity returns to her posture. She stands up straight and swallows hard. I take in the sight of her, pearls missing from her grown, her blue seaweed gown torn in places, perpetually wet. She has been through battle.