River of Shadows (Underworld Gods #1)

It’s another magical yet macabre thing but Rasmus doesn’t look in awe as he did with the snow. His mouth is set in a grim line. “She’s here,” he says dourly.

From his tone I know that whoever she is isn’t good. “Loviatar?” I ask, almost hopefully. I actually liked the deer skull daughter of Death. You know, before she wanted to kill us.

He gives his head a firm shake. “I won’t speak her name yet.”

So…Voldermorta? I think, just as the water off the left and right sides of the boat splash simultaneously, droplets flying on the deck. A chill runs down my spine and I grip the sword tighter.

“What’s in the water, Rasmus?”

He doesn’t say anything. Now a bigger splash comes from behind us, and I whirl around to see something dark, long and shiny pass over the surface and disappear below.

Oh god.

Oh god.

Giant sea snake serpent thingy.

Right under our boat.

“Rasmus,” I repeat, my voice going several octaves higher. “Tell me what’s in the water.”

Suddenly the boat shudders and rocks and the both of us stumble, knocked off-balance.

“If anything comes on the ship, hack away!” Rasmus yells at me as he reaches into his coat and pulls out a necklace with a blue stone at the end, wrapping his fist around it.

Anything? I think and something from underneath rams the bottom, causing me to go flying into the railing. I grip it hard, staring over the edge at the black water, terrified to see what’s below.

Thump, thump.

I whirl around to see two giant black tentacles come over the side of the boat and slam into the deck, shaking us violently.

Okay. So this is what’s in the water. Jesus, they’re bigger than my torso. How fucking huge is the Cthulhu beneath us? Enough to swallow this boat whole?

“Hanna!” Rasmus warns from behind me.

I blink and spring into action. I run down the deck, sliding on the snow but managing to keep my balance, sword raised in the air. There’s a part of me that’s watching all of this from far away that’s laughing at the sight of me turned into some kind of Finnish warrior princess about to tackle some Lovecraftian monster, and there’s another part, the larger part, that has to shove all bewilderment and disbelief aside in order to survive.

With two quick swipes, I slice the blade of the sword against tentacle one and tentacle two, severing them until they’re flopping on the deck. As easy as cutting into sashimi, albeit at a sushi restaurant for giants.

At that, the boat vibrates so hard that I feel it in my fillings, and giant bubbles burst in the water around us, followed by an ear-piercing shriek that sounds from the depths. In all directions at least twenty tentacles come rising out of the water, and if that isn’t bad enough, half of them have snake heads at the end. Their mouths open, fangs bared, tongues forked.

“Holy shit,” I swear under my breath. “Now what?”

I expect Rasmus to say something—do something—but he’s chanting something over and over again in Finnish, almost like he’s singing from his throat, his hand clasped over the stone, his eyes pinched shut. The snowflakes are no longer multicolored but they’re falling fast, covering him in a thin layer.

“Rasmus!” I yell at him. “I can’t do this alone! What the hell is this thing?”

The water in front of the bow of the ship begins to break up, waves sloshing, and I see a giant head begin to emerge from below the surface. At first I think it’s another snake head, but then I see white hair matted against a narrow skull and then the monster rises up and up and…

My screams echo off the iron hull.

This creature is about twenty-feet tall, maybe thirty, and at first glance I’m sure it’s like a giant woman, but I can’t be sure. She has the low-hanging breasts and torso of a woman, but her thighs taper off into something reptilian, splitting into tentacles and snakes. Her face is flat and gray, with snake eyes set off to the far sides, no nose, and in the middle is a wide circular mouth lined with multiple rows of razor-sharp teeth that remind me of a giant lamprey. Black leeches cover her waxy skin and there’s a long flickering forked tongue sticking right out of her throat.

It’s the most disgusting and terrifying thing I’ve ever seen.

“The Devouress,” Rasmus says in a raspy voice before continuing his chanting.

I stare at him in horror. “And you’re not going to do anything?”

He ignores me.

But The Devouress doesn’t.

Her mouth starts to spin like a vortex of teeth and she spits onto the deck of the boat, right in front of me. I barely have time to get over how gross that was before the hunk of saliva starts moving and shifting, dividing and dividing until it becomes hundreds of translucent snakes, all slithering toward me at increasing speed.

I scream again and start wielding my sword, chopping a few in half before they all overtake me and I’m being pushed back to the deck, failing, struggling beneath the slimy writhing bodies.

This is it. This is how it ends. Indiana Jones’ worst nightmare.

Then the snakes scatter and one thick strong tentacle grabs me by the waist, wrapping around me and lifting me high off the boat, squeezing my ribs like a python until I’m sure my bones are being pulverized. I drop the sword on the deck and open my mouth to scream, but air is choked out of my lungs and I can’t breathe, can’t get a single gulp of air in.

No, this is how it ends.

The Devouress lets out a high-pitched scream, it’s breath hot and smelling of decaying fish as it blasts me, and I manage to see Rasmus down below throw his arms out to the sides, as if he’s some sort of savior leading a church proceeding on the boat.

While The Devouress screeches, squeezing me to death the water behind her begins to whirl and stir, and just like that the tentacle lets me go as if it’s suddenly bored of me.

I scream again and fall straight down into the sea, the water shockingly cold as my body sinks fast below the surface. I try to keep my mouth shut, to stop from breathing in, and I know I have to get rid of my coat and my boots if I want to swim to the surface.

Suddenly hands wrap around my ankles, around my legs, my wrists and arms. I start flailing, kicking, trying to swim free, and it’s so black I can’t see a thing. I don’t know who or what’s holding me down, but I know they mean to drown me in these depths.

Oh god, oh god. Now I’m really going to die.

A strangely beautiful tone, similar to whale song, erupts all around me and through the black I see glowing bubbles rising to the surface all around me, and I realize I’ve been completely disoriented, thinking the hands were bringing me down to the inky depths when really they’re trying to pull me up.

The singing intensifies, vibrating in my bones, and the glowing bubbles grow brighter and brighter as if the water has come alive with phosphorescence. Once, in Cabo, I went swimming in the ocean at night, the water having come alive with it and glowing, but that experience doesn’t even hold a candle to what’s happening now.

And through the streams of glowing bubbles, I’m starting to see flashes of female faces, beautiful faces, then flowing hair, and iridescent scales that shine coral, pearl, and sky-blue.

Suddenly I’m breaking through the surface, gasping for air, the boat Norfinn a few yards away. I can’t see Rasmus, but I also can’t see The Devouress either. Instead there’s a bright white light coming from the bow.

The hands are still holding me up underwater, supporting me, and one by one five heads break the surface and smile at me. Five mesmerizingly beautiful women with hair the color of turquoise, and snow, of lilac, gold, and fire.

Mermaids. Fucking mermaids.

I’m not sure I even have the strength to be surprised anymore. If there are murder swans and lady lamprey serpents, why not mermaids? At least these ones seemed to have saved my life, contrary to all the legends and myths about them being man-killers.

They don’t say anything and their rueful singing has stopped but they swim me over to the side of the boat where I yell, “Rasmus! A little help!”

His head appears over the side, a wide smile breaking across his face.