I walk over to the hall and peer inside. I try to spend as little time in it as possible. There’s nothing like the feeling of dozens upon dozens of empty eyes in horrific faces staring at you.
Death is standing in the middle of the room, a mask in each hand.
“Which one for the meeting?” he asks me.
He lifts up one, which is like a silver boar’s face with obsidian tusks and horns, mouth curved up in a ghoulish smile. Then he lifts up the other one, a white skull with a downturned smile. Reminds me of the sad clown, Pagliacci. Both creepy as hell, of course.
“The clown one,” I tell him. He looks surprised and stares down at it.
Then he puts it back in the display case, choosing the boar instead.
I roll my eyes. What was the point of asking?
“The boar is sexier,” he tells me, slipping it on over his face.
I laugh. “Says you! No one wants to have sex with a pig.”
“Oink.”
I laugh again. “Okay fine, since we’re at the stage of our relationship where we’re asking each other’s opinions now, what do you think of this dress?”
I twirl around with him, the gauzy white layers flowing as I do, reminding me of the star jasmine that lined our neighborhood in North Hollywood.
As usual, the pang of nostalgia hits me for what was. But I can’t let myself dwell on it, not now, not when I can’t do a damn thing about it. First, I have to train, figure out the prophecy, end an uprising, and find out who my mother is. Then I can take a moment to think about my old life—and whether or not I’ll even want to return to it. Seems the longer I’m in Tuonela, the more I feel my old life slipping away, like it was just a dream and my real life has always been here.
“You’re going to get wet,” he says. There’s nothing carnal in his voice, so I’m not sure what he’s saying. “We’re going underwater,” he clarifies.
“Underwater?” I repeat. “What are you talking about?”
Even though I can’t see his eyes through the mask at this distance, I know he’s rolling them. He takes a wide stance and folds his arms across his chest.
“I told you. Ahto is hosting the meeting.”
“Yeah and?”
“He’s the God of Oceans.”
“And?”
“He lives under the sea, Hanna,” he says with a patient sigh.
“Okay, I get that. But I figured he would still hold the meeting on land. His wife, lady God, Goddess, Vellamo, she was on land when I saw her. Or at least above water.”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“It should matter, unless you have scuba gear I can use.”
“You’re half Goddess,” he reminds me.
“And as far as I know, I do not possess the ability to breathe underwater!”
He just grunts and walks down the hall toward me. “Well, we will find out, won’t we?”
I grab onto his glove, stopping him. “Are you serious? Is this a toss Hanna into the sea and see if she’ll drown, similar to toss Hanna into—”
“I know what you’re going to say, you don’t have to say it.”
“—into the oubliette?”
“Listen,” he says, leaning into me, his breath tickling my ear, “wear whatever you want. But if you’re going to wear white, I might have to kill my brothers and cousins if they even so much look at you.”
Then he walks off.
I look down at my dress and sigh. As beautiful and flowy as it is, it will turn see-through the moment it hits water. Back to the drawing board.
In the end, I choose a black dress. This one is more slinky than anything else, almost like a slip dress, but with some boning around the waist that pushes my boobs up to new heights, and the skirt falls to my feet, with a high slit in the front. In the world I knew this is not meeting material, but in the world of the Gods, in the land of the dead, where I am a Goddess and a Queen, I think it’ll freaking do.
The meeting has been a few days in the making. While we’ve both been busy with our own things, Death has also been trying to figure out who my mother is. Asking around has gotten us nowhere, and Vipunen has totally turned into a vault, so Death decided to call a meeting of the Gods and Goddesses. After all, one of them has to be my mother, right?
I’m nervous as hell. I’d be nervous if it were just a normal meeting with the Gods, you know, but one called to figure out who my mom is? Talk about pressure. Don’t get me wrong, I have a ton of questions that need answers, but I’m not looking forward to a bunch of grumbling Gods gathering at the bottom of the sea together all because of me. I mean, the Gods I have seen all seem to be pretty grumpy. I can’t imagine the weather here puts you in the best mood.