“What is it?” he asks. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
My breath catches in my chest as I stare at him, until the illusion of something terrifying slowly fades away and I see that it’s only Rasmus in front of me, no one else. “I couldn’t tell where I was for a moment,” I manage to say, trying to brush off the disturbing feeling.
He nods. “I’m not sure what time it is but I’ve got enough rest. I think I’d like us to get moving.” He clears his throat. “Sammalta?” he says, projecting his voice. “Are you there?”
The mycelia glows.
“I am always here, just as I am always there,” she answers.
All right then, Cheshire Cat.
“How is the storm doing? Do you think we can chance it?” Rasmus asks.
The white strands around the cavern pulse. “I cannot predict the future.”
I roll my eyes at her non-answer while Rasmus presses her. “Would you be able to find Alku for us?”
“The storm is no better than it was yesterday,” she says.
“Well that’s exactly what I wanted to know,” Rasmus says, sounding annoyed. He reaches over and picks up the sunmoonstone sphere, holding it in his fist until the light grows brighter and illuminates the cavern with the shine of the sun.
He gives me a curious glance, frowning. “What do you think? Stay down here for a few more days, hoping that Death’s storm dies down?”
I shake my head. “I want to chance it,” I tell him. I think I’d go mad if I had to stay here any longer. Besides, I don’t like to wait things out, I’d rather face them head on if I can. “We don’t know how long Death will stay angry at me for. Might be for eternity. The God knows how to hold a grudge.”
“Fair enough,” Rasmus says, getting to his feet and dusting off his pants. He reaches down and pulls me to my feet. “We better get going then.” He pauses, giving me a shy smile. “Sister.”
I laugh nervously. “Sounds weird doesn’t it?”
He shrugs. “I could get used to it. I have to admit, it’s actually kind of nice to have someone you’re related to.” A dark look comes over his eyes. “Growing up, that’s really all I wished for.”
“Rasmus,” mushy lady’s voice comes through. “If you’re going for it, I don’t want Alku’s life at risk. You better go to the portal at the Shaman’s Way. It’s closer than Death’s Landing.”
“Sounds good,” Rasmus says. “Probably best I don’t go near the Great Inland Sea anyway.”
“Why not?” I ask, since it was the way we came in to Tuonela. “Sea monsters? Typhoons?”
“Well, yeah, all of that. And the fact that I never did Vellamo that favor of bringing her a dress made of moonsilk from Kuutar. Remember she said she’d feed my bones to the mermaids? I mean, I love being devoured by mermaids, but not in the literal sense.”
“You know I saw Kuutar,” I tell him, “when I freed my mermaid friend, Bell.”
“You know Bell?” he asks, licking his lips.
I grimace. “Oh god. Please don’t tell me you know Bell in a personal way.”
He rolls his eyes. “I haven’t fucked every mermaid, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
I raise my hand to get him to shut up. “That’s not what I’m wondering and I don’t want to hear it either way.”
“Of course, there’s a reason why the Shaman’s Way was never your destination to begin with,” mushy lady interrupts our conversation from getting into even weirder territory. “You’ll have to pass over the Star Swamp to get there and it’s far more dangerous. Even more so during a storm where there is no shelter. Except for Louhi’s castle.”
“Wait a minute,” I protest, eyeing Rasmus. “We’re going near your mother?”
I don’t like this. Not when we’ve just discovered their relationship to each other. What if she can tell her son is near?
“I don’t like it either,” he says. “But I think it’s our best shot.”
Well, I don’t feel bad about taking the knife now. Looks like I might need it after all.
Chapter 6
Hanna
“The Star Swamp”
We leave the cavern, going up the winding stairs made of bone and agate, the sphere lighting the way. I know we’re near the surface because that ghastly smell comes wafting through with the wind and I almost gag.
“Oh god,” I cry out, covering my nose with my hand.
Rasmus grunts in disgust as we push through a wall of dead and rotting leaves that have been blown up against the entrance to the underground. Once out, we pass under the rib cage of the dinosaur, wind whipping my hair in all directions. My kingdom for a hair-tie!
The storm hasn’t weakened at all. The ground is littered with leaves and branches and patches of ice. Flakes of snow are blown about with each gust of wind, a kind of cold that cuts you to the bone.