River of Shadows (Underworld Gods #1)

The closer they get, the faster my heart races, until they come to a stop about fifty feet away. When Rasmus told me that Death rode a unicorn, for some reason I was expecting a gorgeous, serene, magical-looking creature, even though Rasmus had told me otherwise. But now that I see it in person, the sight of it makes my skin crawl. Their versions of unicorns are big, moose-sized, and like so many of the animals in this world, mostly skin and bones. Their horns look made of metal, three or four feet long, protruding from a boney skull, and spooky, watchful eyes that vary in shades of black, white, or pale blue.

The unicorn in the middle is the largest, black as a moonless night, and sitting atop him is Death. While the other two men are equally scary, they don’t hold a candle to this guy. He makes the unicorn look small beneath him, which is no easy feat, and everything he’s wearing is both luxurious and sinister, from the elaborate spikes on his armored shoulders, to his metal gloves, to his iron boots. Underneath the dark velvet hood of his cape his face is in shadows.

But despite all that he looks like, it’s what he feels like, even from way over there. I know it’s Death because I know it’s Death. I think if anyone, human or not, were to be in his presence, they would react with fear, with panic, with a deep primal urge to run far, far away. Even now, even though I knew I might have to face him, let alone see him, I’m terrified to the bone with the unwavering sensation that I’m going to die.

I don’t think many get to look Death in the face and live to talk about it.

Of course, the others beside him are frightening as hell too, with their skull faces, hoods, and zombiecorns that paw the dry earth impatiently—they just pale in comparison on the holy fuck scale.

Then there’s Rasmus. He’s off to the side, chains around his hands, attached to Death. Even though Rasmus is tall, he looks short compared to the others, and his wiry build seems weak. Too weak. He meets my eyes and I expect to see something pleading in them, like he’s asking for my help, or maybe embarrassment at getting caught. But I can’t read him at all.

“There you are,” Death booms. His voice is unlike any I’ve heard before, rich and baritone, like the low bass behind a gloomy melody, and yet there’s a rasp to it, a huskiness that would sound sexy on anyone else but him. “Thank you for bringing her here, Tellervo. Make sure to pass my thanks on to your father. I enjoyed the black grouse the forest provided the other day.”

I gasp and turn to look at the Forest Goddess. The traitor!

But Tellervo’s green eyes are wide, like she’s surprised he said that, and when she looks at me for just a second, I see bewilderment in them.

She clears her throat. “I will do so,” she says to Death and then quickly turns, avoiding my stare, and walks back into the forest. Now I don’t know if she brought me here on purpose or if Death is just toying with me, but there will be no relying on her anymore.

I’m on my own.

I tighten my grip on the sword.

Death notices. I can’t even see his eyes but I know that he sees every single thing that I’m doing. I’m wondering if he’s like Rasmus, and can hear my thoughts as well.

Fuck you, you fucking fuck, I think, hoping he can.

He doesn’t show any reaction, just adjusts his position on the unicorn.

“Do you know who I am?” he asks me, voice like sinister silk.

I don’t say anything. The sword pulsates against my palm, as if it’s trying to give me energy, or I’m trying to give it energy. I’ll take what I can get.

“Because I know who you are, Hanna Heikkinen,” he goes on. “And I know your father quite well too.”

I stiffen, my blood running cold.

Papa!

“Ah,” he says, after observing my face. “I figured that’s why you were here. Your friend Rasmus wouldn’t tell me much, even when we tortured him. But I knew.”

My stomach twists and I look at Rasmus. He seems okay, maybe a bit dusty and tired, but otherwise like he was just yesterday. Maybe it was a mental torture thing, or the box of pain from Dune.

“And I can understand why you’re so angry,” Death adds. “I’d be angry too if my father was dying and didn’t tell me. Then again, my father is a God and yours…very much isn’t. He’s barely even a shaman. Just a pathetic excuse for an old wizard.”

“Fuck you,” I snarl at him, unable to keep quiet.

Death chuckles. “Finally, she speaks!” He claps his armored hands together, the metal clanging, setting my teeth on edge. “The fairy speaks. Apparently she can hear as well. So let me tell you something, mortal one, while I have your attention. I’m angry too, perhaps as angry as you are. You see, I had heard a rumor that seemed outlandish, that you had kicked my dear daughter Lovia off her boat, stolen her sword, and then proceeded to murder the sacred Swan of Tuonela with it. I laughed it off at first, but now that I see Lovia’s sword in your hand, I’m starting to think the rumors might be true.”

I press my lips together, not saying a word, just in case I incriminate myself.

Death studies me, his eyes burning beneath the shadow of his hood. “Are you trying to take the Fifth Amendment? Don’t you know that what works as law in the Upper World, doesn’t work down here? Our laws are very, very different. They’re tailored to me. And what I want, what I decide, changes from day to day.”

He tilts his head to look over at Rasmus, and in the orange misty glow I see the gleam of his forehead. It’s dark, like metallic tourmaline or some other polished black rock. A black skull.

I don’t think. I just act. Like my body knows what to do before I do.

Perhaps Vellamo was right and my power is just waking up.

I squeeze the sword, feeling energy flow through me, and while Death is momentarily preoccupied with Rasmus, I start running across the desert toward Death, sword raised in the air.

I will kill him.

I get about ten feet before Death’s hand shoots out and suddenly the sword is ripped right from my grasp. The sword goes flying through the air and in seconds the handle slams into Death’s armored palm, his fingers curling around it.

I come to a stop, dust flying around me, watching in horror, my weapon gone.

“Did you know I forged this sword?” Death says, staring down at it in his hand. “One of my many talents. My hands might be deadly, but I assure you they are especially skilled where it counts.” His voice gets huskier over those last words, dragging them out in such a way that I can’t help but think he’s being sexually suggestive.

“It’s not magic though,” he goes on, casually sliding the sword into a sheath on his thigh. “Just the power of magnets and a little starstone.”

Death looks to the guy on his right. “What do you say, Kalma? How should we round the fairy up? Chase her onto the plains where the Liekki? will get her? Take her by force? Perhaps torture her boyfriend a little more until she gives herself up? She seems the type to doing something as stupid as self-sacrifice.”

“A chase is always entertaining,” Kalma says good-naturedly.

“I prefer the torture,” the guy on the other side of Death says in a ragged, squeaky voice, raising his skeleton hand, strips of skin hanging off.

I look at Rasmus. I want to save him, but at this point I have no idea how. I have no sword, I have nothing.

But there’s something in Rasmus’ gaze that burns. A fire that says he’s not giving up, that he’s going to fight.

“Hanna,” Rasmus says in an even tone. “Remember I said I’d tell you what I did to Eero and Noora at the resort? What if I showed you instead?”

My brain quickly scrolls back. The real world feels like ages ago. Maybe it was. I remember running through the hotel and seeing a wall of ice behind me and that was it.

But Rasmus wasn’t really asking me a question. He was telling me to start running.

I nod at him and then turn on my heel and start running into the forest. I hear this loud cracking sound, followed by a whoosh, which sounds like breaking ice and blasting snow, and when I look over my shoulder, I see a wall of ice where Death and his henchmen were, and Rasmus is running free. The iron shackles are around his wrists, but the iron chain has snapped in two where the ice sliced into it.