Page 98 of Goddess of Light
Pick up the sword and try again, I hear the whisper once more.
I look down at Lovia’s blade, still in my hand. It feels heavy, but also right, as if it belongs with me now. I tighten my grip and slide it into the belt of my torn dress. “We’ll find her,” I say, my voice steady. “But not like this.”
We return to the main cavern where the others are waiting. They look up as we enter, their faces drawn and weary. Tuoni says nothing, but his expression is enough. They know Lovia is gone.
“We move,” Tuoni says after a long silence. His voice is hard, unyielding. “Vipunen isn’t here. Louhi has taken Lovia. The Crystal Caves are our only path now.”
No one argues.
We gather what little we have and head into the tunnel that leads to the Crystal Caves. The air grows colder as we descend, the walls glinting faintly with crystalline veins. The passage narrows, forcing us into single file, with Tuoni leading the way. He carries Tuonen’s body wrapped in a cloak, his steps measured but relentless, the weight of his grief making his movements heavier with each passing step.
I follow close behind, my father just ahead of me, his staff clicking softly against the stone floor. The others trail in silence, the echo of their footsteps the only sound. Even Rauta moves quietly, his ears pinned back.
When the tunnel opens up, the sight takes my breath away. I’ve been here before, but even so, it doesn’t fail to impress. The Crystal Caves are otherworldly, their walls shimmering with countless facets of light. It reminds me a lot of the sun, except here the crystals are cold and pastel. Waterways cut through the stone, their surfaces glittering like liquid diamonds. The air is crisp, filled with chimes and the faint sound of trickling water, as if the earth itself is whispering a melody.
Tuoni halts on the crystalline shore, his gaze sweeping over the scene. A small boat rests on the moss and sand, its hull battered but intact, as if waiting for us. With a sinking feeling I realize that this is the boat that Tuonen probably took to escape from Shadow’s End, and from the gravity on Tuoni’s brow, I know he realizes the same.
Without a word, he strides toward it, placing Tuonen’s body gently inside. For a moment, he lingers, his hand resting on the cloak that covers his son. Then he straightens, his expression hardening.
“Get in,” he says to us, his voice low but commanding. The boat is small, only able to fit a few of us. He looks to the troops behind us, still filing out into the cave. “The rest of you can stay behind and wait for further instructions from my scouts. You should be safe here,” he adds, though I can tell he doesn’t believe it. “Otherwise, if you’re a good swimmer, you’ll be taking a dip. Perhaps, Vellamo, you can provide some assistance?”
“Of course,” Vellamo says as she approaches the edge of the water, closing her eyes and chanting something that causes the water to ripple away from her. She does this for a minute, while the Keskelli, standing nearby, exchange nods before wading into the water, their massive forms breaking the surface like living boulders. They kneel, allowing some of the braver troops to climb onto their shoulders.
Vellamo then raises her remaining hand, and the water stirs. A massive shape rises from the depths—a whale made of bones, its skeletal frame gleaming in the crystalline light. The soldiers gasp as it emerges, silent and imposing, its empty eye sockets glowing faintly.
“Some of you can ride with my kind,” Vellamo says, her voice quiet but commanding as she gestures to the whale.
The troops move quickly, climbing onto the whale’s back as Vellamo steps into the water, her form blending seamlessly withthe currents. She glances at Tuoni, her expression unreadable, then begins to swim alongside the whale, her movements graceful despite the bandaged stump of her missing arm, until she dives beneath the water and disappears.
The boat rocks gently as I climb in beside Tuoni. My father takes the seat opposite me, his staff resting across his knees, the glow of the shimmering walls reflecting faintly in his lined face. Tellervo, her expression solemn in the dim light, sits behind us, then General Suvari takes up the oars, in charge of the rowing. Rauta jumps in last, heading to the prow where he proudly stands on patrol, his red eyes scanning the water.
The boat pushes off, gliding silently along the waterway. The trolls swim beside us, their broad shoulders breaking the surface, four or five armed troops riding each Keskelli. The bone whale follows, its hollow eyes glowing faintly beneath the water, with even more soldiers clinging to its back.
For a time, there is nothing but the sound of the water and the faint echoes of our passage. The crystalline walls shimmer with an ethereal glow, casting fragmented light on our faces. It should be beautiful, but the air is heavy with grief. I can feel it pressing down on all of us, unspoken but undeniable.
It feels like it’s coming for me, waiting just below my skin.
The boat glides silently across the water, the faint sound of oars cutting through the glassy surface. I stare ahead, focused on the shimmering walls, the reflections dancing below, trying not to let the weight of everything press too heavily on me. Then I hear a soft splash.
At first, I think it’s the oars hitting the water, but then something darts beneath the hull—a flash of kaleidoscopic light. My breath catches. Another splash, closer this time, and a fish breaks the surface.
No, it’s not a fish. It’s a mermaid, no larger than a doll, with iridescent scales and delicate features. She swims beside the boat, her luminous form glowing faintly in the dim cavern light.
“Bell,” I whisper, my voice trembling with recognition.
“Hanna?” Bell chirps, her voice high and curious. She tilts her head, studying me. “I told you I’d see you again! Vellamo put out the call, and here I am. Did you miss me?”
Tuoni glances down at her briefly, his silver eyes distant, as if he’s already dismissed her presence. Bell stares at him, unimpressed, and sticks out her tongue when he looks away. Her bright eyes narrow, scrutinizing me. “What’s wrong with you?” she asks. “Why are you glowing? You seem…off.” She pauses, looking past me to the others. “Everyone is off. What happened?”
I can’t answer. Her words pierce through something in me, striking a memory buried beneath layers of divinity. I stare at her, and for a moment, I feel the weight of who I used to be. There’s a flicker of emotion—affection, maybe? She was my friend, wasn’t she? But it’s distant, as though I’m viewing it through fogged glass.
Before I can respond, the water ahead churns violently.
“There!” Tuoni cries out, pointing at the water as ripples spread out in wavering circles, and a low, menacing growl reverberates through the cavern. I straighten up and freeze as a massive shadow rises from the depths.
Rauta starts barking like mad as the water explodes in a spray of foam and brine. A monster from the depths emerges, its grotesque form a monstrosity of jagged fins, twisting tentacles, and barnacle-encrusted flesh. His molten eyes glow with a terrible, ancient rage, and his roar shakes the very walls of the cavern, sending cascades of water down the crystalline stalactites.
“Iku-Turso!” my father yells. “The Old God of the sea! Everyone hold on!”