Crown of Crimson (Underworld Gods 2)

“You mean her current lover boy?” I shrug. “Believe me, I would love that if that were true. But according to the mushy lady, Rasmus is my half-brother. He got the information the same time as I did. Not only that, but he found out that Louhi is his mother as well…” I trail off, thinking of how scared and weak Rasmus looked under Louhi’s collar. I wonder where he is now, if his mother is treating him right or corrupting him with demonic abuse. I pray it’s not the latter.

He gives me a look of disbelief. “And you really believe Rasmus didn’t know? Hanna, he led you right to her.”

“We didn’t have a choice,” I point out. “It was your weather that made us take the shortcut.”

If that makes him feel guilty, he doesn’t show it. “And the she-devil conveniently appeared in the middle of the Star Swamp, where your unicorn conveniently went down.”

“It wasn’t like that. Rasmus was possessed. He was trying to strangle me. We fell off. Alku died trying to save me.”

Things grow quiet, the sound of my quickening breath filling the room. Death is deep in thought, running his fingers over his jaw. “This changes everything.”

“How so?”

He gives me a sharp look. “Louhi has Rasmus, her son who happens to also have the blood of a shaman. What do you think she’s going to do with him?”

“I’ve been trying not to think about it,” I admit uneasily.

“She’s either going to bleed him dry like she does to Ilmarinen, or…”

“Or?”

“Or he’s going to be on her side very soon. Learning her magic. Corrupted by the Old Gods. She’ll use him like a puppet on a string.” Suddenly Death gets to his feet, his chair toppling over. “We need to get back to Shadow’s End. Now.”

He reaches down and yanks me up to my feet and we’re storming down the hall before I even get a chance to think.

Sarvi didn’t seem all too pleased at having to fly back to Shadow’s End so soon but, being a dutiful servant, it didn’t argue with Death. The short rest seemed to have been enough to get us to the castle at a fast pace and it wasn’t long before we were landing in the gardens.

My mind immediately leapt back to the last time I was here. Unlike the rain that’s starting to come down, it was a sunny day, the sky the bluest hue I’d ever seen. I was…I think I might have even been happy. Especially when Death ending up fucking me against the garden wall.

This time though, there is no happiness between us. He lifts me off Sarvi’s back and then takes a firm hold of my hand, pulling me along until we enter the castle through the kitchen doors.

The two Deadmaidens, Harma and Pyry, look up in haste from the counter where they’re chopping vegetables.

Master, Harma says in surprise through her red veil, her face eternally hidden like the rest of them. You’re back so soon.

So nice to see you again, Hanna, Pyry says in a careful voice, communicating in my head just as Harma does. I hope you’re staying this time around.

“She’s staying,” Death grumbles, pulling me along. “We’ll be in the crypt getting married. If anyone asks for us, they aren’t invited.”

Oh! Harma exclaims. Shall we cook up a big feast in celebration!?

“There’s nothing to celebrate,” he says grimly over his shoulder as he takes me out of the kitchen and into the castle, then over to the steps that lead down to the crypt.

“We’re doing this now?” I exclaim, trying to keep up without falling down the stone stairs that descend into darkness.

“No time like the present,” he says. “Sarvi!” he yells as if the unicorn is right beside us and not out in the garden still. “Get Kalma.”

“You think Sarvi can hear you?”

“Sarvi hears everything,” he says, adjusting his grip to be on my wrist, as if he’s afraid I’ll try to bolt the closer we get to the Sect of the Undead.

Truth is, I’d run if I could. I was creeped out here on our wedding day and I’m creeped out now. We walk past the cellars where Death keeps his wines and other fermented drinks, past the dungeons and torture chambers which make my blood crawl, and then finally to the crypt where a row of candles burn, outlining a path to the door.

Seeing it again makes me feel sick, like it’s been coated in pure poison.

“You could at least let me change for the wedding,” I tell him.

He tilts his head toward me. He slipped his mask back on the moment we left his mountain castle, and with the dim shadowy light down here, I can’t see his eyes in the mask at all. “You’re still in your wedding dress. I’ll have to take your word for it that you looked better than this before.”