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“May I have your sword?” the Magician asks.

I hand it to him, and he takes it, hacking away at the mycelium around Rasmus’ feet. They glow in response and then shrink back into the earth.

“Don’t worry, this doesn’t hurt them. They’ll just re-network,” he says before handing me back my sword. Then, he unravels a few tendrils around Rasmus’ neck until they resemble a leash and gives them a sharp tug.

Rasmus stumbles forward and falls to his knees, where he remains. From his muffled screaming, I can’t tell if it’s in pain or protest.

The Magician gives the strands a yank. “Come on. Make this easier on yourself. If not, I have no issues dragging you to the Forest Gods. Either way, you’re coming.”

Rasmus refuses to move. To be fair, I don’t think getting to your feet is an easy task when you’re bound like a mummy.

The Magician just shrugs and starts walking. The mycelium holds, as if a metal chain, and Rasmus is dragged in the red dirt behind him. He makes it look as easy as dragging a cart.

I keep pace with the Magician, occasionally looking behind me at Rasmus with his face full of dust and dirt, until we finally come to the invisible ward between the Liekkiö Plains and the Hiisi Forest.

“Let us hope the Forest Gods still exist as we know them,” the Magician says as we step through.

Chapter 24

Hanna

The Sun Goddess

Water.

Everything is water.

My eyes, my hair, my mouth, my nose.

Water.

My lungs breathe in water, water moves through my body, and I feel like I’ll never stop drowning.

I’m floating, I’m sinking, I’m caught in a current.

In the back of my mind, I think about dying, that this could be death, and then I realize there’s something about death that appeals to me.

Not dying.

But Death with a capital D.

The God of Death.

The man I love.

He’s floating in a vision of blue, his eyes glowing like pewter stones, like lightning strikes, and I’m swimming to him through the void. I am drawn to him, this man who has brought me to life in so many different ways and will bring me back to life again.

But as I move through the water, through the nothingness, as thoughts of Oblivion are carried past my head, I realize that Death isn’t here.

He hasn’t come for me.

And neither has dying.

My hands reach out into the blue void, and they strike something solid but soft in return.

But this isn’t my Tuoni.

It is, however, someone.