The Plague Goddess 6j6n1r

The Plague Goddess

Stephanie Ayers

Paul R. Davis

Table of Contents

Title Page

The Plague Goddess

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Excerpt from The Story of the Drowning Sands of G’desh by Paul R. Davis:

Enjoy this excerpt from Elven Games: Destiny Defined Book 1 by Stephanie Ayers:

About the Author: Stephanie Ayers

More Books by Stephanie Ayers:

The Destiny Defined Series

The 13 Series

The Shop Series

About the Author: Paul R. Davis

More books by Paul R. Davis:

Dedication

For believers in the magical, the mythological, and the unknown. It is through you that our words become real.

Prologue

Acry broke the stillness of the forest. The mother raised her newborn son to the sky with bowed head, the child’s father beside them. “Tapio, Meilikki, I give my son to you. May our ed seeds bring our ascension and protection for the people always. Bless us this day,” the father said. The mother tucked the infant to her chest for a moment, then set him down. He wobbled for a moment, testing his balance, and then lumbered off after a fresh scent of fish. As he dove into the water, she watched from a close distance, ready to rescue him should he need it. She needn’t have worried, though. His father also watched closely, his pride casting a soft glow around him. Ahto rose from the water and splashed the baby. “My son,” Ukko said. “He will summon the storm one day. Teach him well.” Tapio and Meilikki watched the boy in the distance and said, “We will make sure to draw him to our castle when it is time. Our daughter will be prepared for his arrival.” Ukko put a hand on Tapio’s shoulder. “Everything depends on her being prepared.”

LOVIETAR WENT TO JATA in a dream. “The forest is given to those who don’t deserve it, and you are cursed with plagues. I have no love of Tapio or Meilikki, but you would make a suitable queen.” “What should I do?” the serpent asked. The invitation was tempting. “Wait. Enlist Hiisi’s help. He is a self-serving god. Lie to him, though, and he will see you as a better ruler of the woods.” “To do what?” Jata was desperate. Lovietar was cast to the land of the dead, but the two shared a hatred for the gods. Surely Lovietar would help Jata in throwing down those who threw down the plague and death queen. “Kill the bear king. Strike him through the heart with your poison. Hiisi will provide the arrow.” “When? What do you get out of this?” “You will know. And I get revenge. Nothing more or less.” Lovietar grinned, and it rattled Jata. But oh, what Jata would do to be queen.

Chapter One

An arrow soared through the forest seeking its target—the heart of the largest bear and son-in-law of the great forest god, Tapio and his wife, Mielikki. “It will find its mark,” Hiisi assured Jata. “My arrows never miss.” “And you’re sure this will piss Tellervo off enough to get her parents to intervene?” Jata asked, lashes lowered. Hiisi might be the master of the woods, but that didn’t mean she trusted him. Loki taught her moons ago that she could trust no one, least of all those sworn into service. Hiisi was more than a servant, however, and she needed his knowledge of the woods to bring down the Otso—the bear king, Arttu. Tapio and Mielikki needed to be relieved of their rule. Jata should have been the goddess of the forest, but Ukko punished her for falling into Loki’s trap and demoted her. He didn’t strip her powers; he changed them. No longer could she heal the earth. Everything she touched, she poisoned. Even the arrow she’d just released was poisoned. If it didn’t wound Arttu enough to kill him, the poison would. Just like Lovietar promised. Well, it would, as long as Hiisi told her the truth about the arrow. A vicious snarl broke the stillness. Jata followed the sound and lost her footing as the giant bear collapsed on the riverbank, causing the earth to shake. “At last, the great king of the forest falls.” Jata shoved her foot down on the dying bear’s shoulder. Hiisi pulled the arrow from Arttu’s chest. “Start the fire,” Jata commanded. “We’ll burn him to ash.” Hiisi shot a sideways glance and smirked. “Oh, you are a wicked one, Hajatar. Will you leave ashes instead of his skull, then?” “How else will I guarantee the wrath of the gods? Stop gawking and get the fire started.” Jata snapped her fingers, her face scowling as Hiisi moved slower than she liked.

“Get your ass moving, Hiisi. It should be started already!” she snapped. A few flames shot up around the bear and grew in size until fire surrounded the corpse. Hiisi hissed. “You want it hot enough to burn Arttu’s bones to ash, right? It takes time to build a fire that hot. You want instant disintegration, do it yourself.” Jata narrowed her eyes. “You know very well I can’t do that.” “Um-hmm.” Hiisi snickered snidely. “Leave me alone, then.” The fire rose higher and engulfed the bear. The acrid odor of burning fur filled the air. Hiisi stopped building the fire and looked at Jata for confirmation. “Are you sure you want to burn his skull?” His voice was somber. There was no coming back from the decision, but he was curious enough to see it through. “Yes. Bones to ashes, ashes all, burn the Otso once and for all.” The flames leaped to the sky, and a sinister smirk slicked Jata’s face. The air grew thick with black smoke. She would be queen soon—Lovietar’s promise made true. “Smell that?” she asked Hiisi, lifting her chin and closing her eyes as she inhaled. “That’s my favorite smell.” “Charred fur and burnt bones?” Hiisi asked, slightly surprised. Jata glared at him. “Death. I can always smell when she’s nearby.” She closed her eyes, faced the sky, and shuddered as if Death’s fingers caressed her. “Now give me the potion before the fire dies out. The smoke will carry the pox to the sky, and the wind will scatter it through the forest. The gods won’t know it’s there until it’s too late.” The potion was Lovietar’s idea. She said it would cause the gods to wither. Hiisi ed Jata a small, oblong bottle sealed with a cork. She popped the cork out and took a whiff of the clear liquid inside before emptying it into the fire.

Blue flames sparked and sizzled, and the smoke thinned to a teal haze. Jata waited until the fire went out, then gathered the ashes and filled the bottle with them. She sealed the ashes with the cork and stuffed the vial into her pocket. Hiisi ed Jata in the center of the makeshift fire pit. They ed hands and lifted their faces to the sky. “I summon thee, Lovietar. Hear my call. Spread my seeds of destruction far and wide. It is in your name I spread this fear, this disease of death and pain. It is in your name, oh goddess of death and disease, I call the wind. Lift this cloud of desolation and carry it around the world. Fulfill your promise to me.” The wind whipped through Jata’s hair in answer, and the clouds of smoke dissipated as the heavy breeze claimed them and carried them away. Jata looked at the sun smugly. “It’s your move.”

Chapter Two

Karl sat on the dock , one leg hanging over. The sea splashed up and lapped at his shoe. It would soak through soon enough, and the chill waters would tell him to go home. Until then, it was nice to only hear the lapping of water on the shore. It was rhythmic and simple. Simple was— His thoughts were broken up by a black soot falling from the sky. It landed in the sea, on the streets, and the houses, and it darkened the sky. Not immensely, the near constant clouds darkened the sky already. But it was noticeable. “Hey, Karl, what do you think that’s all about?” The man stood up and shrugged. “Not a good omen, that’s for sure. Maybe Henri’s burning more of his crap when he shouldn’t be.” “No, I don’t think this is Henri. Pretty sure it’s a bad omen, especially with the blood moon on the horizon. Coming sooner than later.” Lasko tapped on a pipe, stuffed it with tobacco, and lit it. “Maybe we go out on the water and get some fish. Dry them out in case.” This made Karl laugh. “Think monsters will come out of the sea and eat us, Lasko? Stuff that crap in your pipe and smoke it.” “I am!” Lasko burst out laughing until he was spitting and coughing. “Oh, dear boy, you have your father’s demeanor. It’s a good demeanor.” Thoughts of Karl’s dad hurt his chest. “Yeah, Dad. I miss him, Lasko. Miss him something fierce.” There was a long silence. No one knew what happened; just one day, when he went out to sea, he didn’t come back. A week later, some kids found his boot on the shore. Lasko looked out in the distance, as if scanning the horizon for him. “Anyway, you should get home. Look after your mom. I’m going out for a bit. Eiric said something about fish in droves.” “Stay safe,” Karl called out. And then the motor roared to life after a few attempts, and off Lasko went.

“Old goat,” Karl muttered, then walked off toward the town. Lighting struck in the distance, over the woods. Black clouds consumed the gray, overcast sky in seconds, and a deluge set upon Karl. “No. This isn’t good.” He looked out at the sea, but the rain was too thick for him to see Lasko. “Good luck, old man.” There was an ache in his chest. First that soot, then the storm. It was not a lucky day. “Karl!” his mom called out from their small market store on the main street. “Get in here, Karl, before you get a cold and die. Can’t lose you after losing your dad. What’ll I do then? Karl!” She nagged at him more as he strolled into the store. There were a couple of customers, and behind the counter they wrapped up fish and rang up the sales. Cash only. None of the locals complained, but people ing would gripe about the lack of credit services. Water poured off him onto the floor. His mom got a mop and buckets to slosh it around and get the floors dry. “Mom, I can get that. Stop worrying.” “Did you see that black soot? And then rain? Something strange is happening out in the woods, mark me. Something strange. The gods—” “Mom, enough.” He took the mop from her and pushed her back gently. “You need to get some sleep. You look exhausted.” “Can’t sleep with the gods unhappy. Your father wouldn’t let this stand. I’m going to take some fish to Arttu. The bear king would like that. Then Ukko will calm the sky, and Arttu will tell me about the soot.” “Not in this rain. You’re staying in the store.” She ignored him, picking up three fat fish and wrapping them in paper. “A couple nice trout should do it.” “Mom!” “No, don’t you ‘mom’ me. I won’t be shouted at by my son. Arttu is going to

love these fish, I tell you, and then he’ll tell the sky to calm down, and we’ll be okay.” If only it was that simple, though his mom had gone into the woods before and strange miracles happened shortly after. Lightning crossed the sky with such fervor, that for a moment everything was white. Then the thunder cracked, and the windows shuddered. “Mighty mad today. I’ll fix that,” she said, carrying the trout under her arm as she walked out the door. Karl’s guts clenched. She was going to get herself killed. He put on his coat, got on his boots, and headed out after her, though by the time he was in the street, he couldn’t see her. He headed toward the woods.

Chapter Three

Kaija hurried to the forest, so intent on stopping the storm she didn’t pay attention to where she went. “Excuse me,” a raven-haired woman said, a look of disbelief on her face. “Watch where you’re going!” Kaija paused long enough to address the woman. “I’m sorry, Marta. I must get this sacrifice to Arttu, so the gods are appeased.” She raised the wrapped fish and kept moving. “Stop,” Marta said. “It’s useless.” She tugged on Kaija’s arm. “Why?” “Arttu is the reason the gods are angry.” Kaija’s eyebrows rose. “What? How do you know?” Marta flicked her long black hair over her shoulder with her hand, then extended it toward Kaija. She blew against her palm, and dust flew into Kaija’s face. “What are you doing? Ah! Oh! Ow!” Kaija dropped the bundle of fish and covered her eyes. Blood seeped from between her fingers. Her mouth opened to scream, and her bottom lip curled. “What did you do—” Kaija fell to the ground on top of the bundle of fish. Marta smirked as Kaija’s body quivered, then jerked, before remaining still. Jata shimmered in front of Marta, an equally sinister smirk on her face. “The medicine woman, as you requested, my queen,” Marta said, dipping her head in reverence as Jata materialized in front of her. “It was much easier than I expected.” “Yes, it was, wasn’t it? Now you must ensnare her son, or he will be our undoing. Everything I’ve done will be pointless if he comes to the woods before I take the throne.” Jata stuck her index finger in Marta’s face.

Marta grimaced. “But he’s so...human,” she complained. “And a dull one at that.” “You’ll never reach godlike status with that attitude,” Jata chastised. “Isn’t that why you’re doing this? The great and holy Marta who would never hurt a soul?” Jata mocked. “Immortality comes with a price.” Marta’s eyes rolled, and she groaned. For the first time she wondered if immortality was worth it. She already had a lover, which Jata knew. She doubted he would understand her sudden shift in affection. And if she didn’t use her feminine wiles, exactly how was she supposed to ensnare him? “You’ll have to figure that out yourself. There are plenty of ways to trap a man,” Jata answered and laughed as Marta’s cheeks turned bright red. “I know you hate it when I read your mind, but it’s so entertaining! Now go back to town and tell everyone exactly what I told you to say.” Marta curtsied. “Yes, my queen.” She lowered her eyes as she ed Jata and headed back. “Hiisi,” Jata summoned. Marta turned around in curiosity, eager to see the forest lord of legend, but no one appeared. “Secure the woman. I’ll want a snack later,” Jata said, speaking to the air. She felt Marta’s eyes on them and looked her way. “Marta, you mustn’t stare. You know Hiisi will only appear to those he deems worthy, and you are not worthy...yet. Now mind your business and get to town.” Heat flooded Marta’s cheeks, and she rushed away before Jata saw. She’d had enough of the demigoddess’ disdain for one day. She practiced her speech with the trees of the forest, who gave no applause nor condemnation. “What’s wrong, Marta?” Karl called out. Marta startled. She’d been so busy practicing, she failed to pay attention to where she walked. Instead of taking the path to the town, she ended up by the river. Disoriented and speechless, Marta remained silent.

“Have you seen mom?” Karl asked her. The lines of his forehead revealed his concern. “I thought she’d come to the riverbank, but she’s not here. Her parcel of fish isn’t either.” Tears brimmed Marta’s eyes, but she refused to let them spill. Sure, he was human, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t mourn at the coming despair Jata would heap upon him. She turned her face away from Karl. “No,” she said, the lie slipping easier from her lips than expected. Lightning bolted from the sky and zapped the ground between them. A peal of thunder rolled so deep the ground trembled. Waves rocked the river, and both were knocked off their feet. Pellets of rain pounded their exposed flesh, and Karl ran for the cover of the trees with Marta right behind him.

Chapter Four

The rain was obnoxious , forcing Karl to keep wiping his eyes despite the tree’s protection. With the deluge, there was a good chance of a landslide soon. “Are you okay?” He turned to Marta. “What is up with this rain?” The cold forced a shiver out of him. “Yeah,” she said, averting her eyes. “I’m fine. I hope your mom’s okay.” The words were dead when they left her lips. “Me too. She’s insane with the gods and what not. Who believes in that crap anymore? I believe in fish and money. I believe this storm is the worst since I was a little boy.” He paused a moment and looked up from the cover to the forest. “You really didn’t see her? She should have come from that direction. I wonder if she got turned around.” Grunting, he stood up and made his way toward the forest. “No!” Marta shouted. “Excuse me?” He turned, putting a hand up to do his best to keep the rain out of his eyes. “I couldn’t hear you.” More lightning was followed by thunder. Combine that with how distant Marta was being, and it was an annoying day. “Look, I’m going to check the forest, find mom, and get back to the market. You should get home and dry off.” It seemed like Marta rolled her eyes and lulled her head a little, before looking at Karl and saying, “But I’m scared. Could you please get me back to the village?” Karl took a slow, deep breath. She had to be kidding. Everyone had to be kidding. The only sensible man he had seen all day went out onto a clear ocean, and now was likely fighting for his life. He wondered how Lasko was doing. “Fine. But hurry up. We need to—” and another bolt of lightning struck near him, forcing him and Marta to run off. Once in town, Marta went with Karl to the shop. There was a small crowd huddled in the dark around candles.

“Boss, power’s out.” “Of course, it is.” He ran a hand through his soaking wet hair. “Lock up the cooler and freezer. No one goes in and out of them unless they ask me. Check on the generator. If this keeps up another couple hours, start it.” “What about my fish?” an old man grumped. Karl snapped, “Let them put their purchases in the cooler and freezer first, then lock them up. Are you happy?” “Yes,” he replied, with a satisfied humph. “Karl, you going out in this again?” “Did mom come back?” The employee shook his head. “Then yes. I have to go—” Lightning struck outside the window. Glass shattered, pouring inside, and Karl fell and knocked his head hard on a butcher table. The back of his head was warm and sticky, and when he pulled his fingers away, he saw blood. There were words rattling around, but anytime he opened his mouth to utter them, nothing came out. Marta stood over him and put his head in her lap. Tender fingers stroked his forehead. “You can’t go out with that lump on your head. Let me bandage you up first.” Fruitless attempts to wave her off ended with his eyes closing.

Chapter Five

Karl cringed as he woke up to Marta kissing his forehead. It wasn’t that Marta was ugly. Some might call her pretty, but to Karl, who had grown up with her and knew her on a different level, she could be the last female in Finland, and he would still have no interest in her. She was practically his sister! Up until the moment she kissed his forehead, he thought she felt the same way about him. Wasn’t she betrothed to Fartho? Fartho was a big man. He could snap Karl like a toothpick if he had a mind to. All these thoughts made his head pound, but his tongue was still thick, and his words refused to come out. He pushed against the surface he lay on and tried to rise. “Uh-uh-uh,” Marta chastised. “You’re in no shape to get up. You just relax, Karl. We’ve got everything under control. Oskar is tending to the shop. Eiric is putting a search party together to find your mother, so you’re stuck with me for now. I hope you don’t mind.” Marta stroked his hair softly. She did her best to control her facial expressions. What did Jata want with Karl anyway? She looked the injured man over. His normally clear, blue eyes were dulled with pain and clouded with confusion. Streaks of crimson colored his sandy hair beneath the white bandage on his head, which had already been soaked through with blood. She studied his physique. His dark blue shirt was tight enough to see his lack of muscle tone, yet loose enough to hide it, as well. She stopped at his waist, not daring to let her eyes travel any lower. He may not seem coherent, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t aware. His eyes opened, and he stared back at her, his thick lips moving, but no sound came out. Her eyes grazed over his face, noting the large pores around his hawkish nose, and the scars on his cheek. She wouldn’t call him handsome, but he was attractive enough. Karl was nothing like Fartho. He was as light and small as Fartho was large and dark. Fartho had a good six inches on Karl, too, which was no mean feat considering Karl stood over six feet himself. Without thought, Marta’s hand reached out and stroked one of the bigger scars on Karl’s left cheek. She could for every scar on his face. Karl’s life had not been kind, but he and his mother always managed to survive.

This particular scar Marta would never forget. Kaija and Marta’s mother, Leah, had packed a scrumptious picnic, and the two families piled into Leah’s old Saab and headed for the gulf shore. Karl ed Marta’s brother, Jannik, and her father, Liam, on the small fishing boat they kept at the dock. When they sailed off, Marta helped Leah and Kaija set up the campsite. Young Marta was excited. It had been a long time since they’d gone camping. They only went when the gulf was overrun with fish, and for the last two years, it hadn’t been worth the trip. The white-tailed eagles soaring over the gulf was proof enough of its abundance now, though, and she skipped as she gathered wood for the fire. “May the Otso bless us with lots of fish from the River Kami,” she muttered, although she only prayed out of habit. Kaija was the only one who still worshipped the ancient gods, and Leah had never spoken against it. “Better to pray than repent,” Leah would say whenever Marta asked her about it. “The Otso are the Bear Kings of the forest. Once upon a time, the people used to give offerings to the gods by way of the mighty Otso.” “Is that why you’re supposed to take a gift of fish whenever a bear dies?” Marta’s curiosity always got the best of her. “Yes. It’s an ancient practice, and only Kaija does it anymore, but sometimes it’s effective enough. She believes, and that’s all that matters. You must never criticize someone for their beliefs. Not ever, Marta.” And so, Marta always prayed out of habit. She had a good feeling about this trip. Maybe her father and the boys would catch enough fish to provide for the village, and Karl’s father could stay home for a little while. “Yes, Great Otso, please give them an abundance of fish, so Karl may have time with his dad. A boy needs time with his father. Bless them, Otso.” Marta stood still and listened to the wind, as if she hoped to hear an answer. When none came, she sighed and finished gathering the sticks and returned to the camp. “Where have you been?” Leah asked as Marta dropped the sticks in the firepit.

“Collecting sticks for the fire like you told me to.” “Did you go all the way across the country and back?” Leah pointed out to the sea. “Look! The men return already. Hurry and get that fire going.” She paused and watched the eagles flying overhead. “Hurry up, Marta, or those eagles will take all their fish.” Marta moved as fast as she could, but the small boat docked before she got the fire hot enough. The eagles ignored the women and flocked to the men. It was Karl’s bad luck to have an armload of fish. One eagle, braver than the others, swooped in and stole two fish right out of his arms. He yelped as the bird’s talons grazed his cheek, and blood seeped from his wound. He dropped his load and covered his face with his hands. Kaija rushed to Karl’s side. “Did it get your eye? Move your hands away, so I can see!” Karl jerked his body away and bent over. “Ahh! It burns! It burns! Mom, it hurts.” Kaija shoved his blood covered hands out of the way and lifted his face to the sky. Liam stepped off the boat to help. “Well, if he needs an eyepatch for the rest of his life, he can always marry Marta. He’s a fine enough fisherman to provide for her, and it’s the least she could do to make it up to him.” He clapped Karl on the shoulder. “What do you say, old pal?” The memory burst as her father’s words echoed. If only you knew, Da. If only you knew.

Chapter Six

“T hanks,” Karl said after a few days of Marta’s doting. He rubbed his arm and blushed a little. The care was a bit more than he expected, and the way she talked to him was not the way he viewed their relationship. But with no word from his mom, he couldn’t really scold the woman caring for him when no one else would. “It was nothing. I’ve always been here for you. Are you going to look for your mom?” He nodded, but then he froze when he turned on the TV. Illness plagued Finland. When he saw the map, they were nearly the epicenter. Storms raged throughout the country and northern Sweden. Some cases of the plague had shown up in Russia from people trying to escape. It made him sick. “When did that happen?” “Shortly after the storm hit.” “Why didn’t you tell me?” Disbelief turned into rage. He shouted, veins bulging from his neck, “Why didn’t you tell me!?” Marta shrunk back a little. She whimpered, “I didn’t see a reason. Why make you worry more? I thought it would help you rest.” “No, no, you were right. Anything about my mom?” He looked at the ground, ashamed at yelling at his friend. “I’m sorry.” “How’s the village?” “Your fish business has been booming, since there aren’t a lot of other places to get food.” Karl smirked, then chortled. “Of course. We thrive in suffering.” He stood up and instantly grabbed his head. Marta steadied him. “Get off me, woman.” He shook her off him, and she obliged.

“I’m going to the store.” He looked her in the eyes. “Look, Marta, I love you like a sister, but nothing more. We grew up together. Our families were basically one. I can’t.” “Can’t what?” She had the doe look, the vulnerable prey hurt by the hunter’s uncaring arrow. “Nothing.” He hugged her. “I’ll see you later.” The streets were never truly lively, but now they were absolutely dead. Debris blew down the street. Ash covered it so thick that the pavement was entirely hidden. There were a few shuffles made through the ash from people recently walking through. “What’s come of this world?” “The end has come,” a man behind Karl said. When he turned, the man frightened him. He was tall, thick, and wore a long coat. He had a massive beard, which was green. It looked like it was covered in moss, but that couldn’t be right. The hat on his head was made roughly from twigs. “Angered are the gods. A king was killed, burned to ash, and the only one who visited to repent is dead. Do you know what that means?” “I’m hallucinating, or you’re crazy.” Twigs came out of the man’s sleeves, as if fingers. A little bit of hallucinating and a little bit of crazy, Karl told himself. It was from the wound on his head, no doubt. The man laughed, and it echoed. “Seek out the forest. Bring fish. You’ll find your birthright there. Maybe you’ll survive. Beware the child of plague, the one who looks to be a god.” Then he was gone. Karl didn’t even blink, but the man just disappeared. “This week is done. I’m done. I’ll get on a boat, sail off, and fish and eat the rest of my life.” He sighed, reaching the fish market. The windows were fixed up, and there were a few people milling around. “Karl, good to see you. You saw everything happening?” Oskar acknowledged Karl with raised eyebrows. Karl nodded. Everyone looked half dead.

“Well, then, welcome back, glad you’re caught up. We have a lot of fish to gut. Lasko brought them in.” A sigh of relief left Karl. It was good to know his friend was still okay, despite the storm. Throwing on an apron, Karl walked up to a slab, took a few fish, and started gutting. It felt good to get back to work. A woman approached, one more beautiful than any he saw even on TV. She said, “I’ll take a full trout, please.” She blinked at him, and it made him warm inside. “You met my husband, yes you did. Sometimes he’s too short with words, he is.” “Oh? I’ve been out a while, must have been..." “No, on the street. You need to come to the woods.” She took the wrapped trout and paid, as if she was talking about the weather. “There’s a place you’re looking for, you are. Can’t miss it. But please, bring some fish.”

Chapter Seven

“‘T here’s a place you’re looking for. Can’t miss it.’” Karl grumbled. “How am I supposed to know what I’m looking for?” He mumbled and grumbled as he packed his backpack. “Where are you going?” Marta asked. Karl’s eyes rolled as he looked to the ceiling, and his jaw tightened. This woman. Despite the lack of invitation, she continued to make herself at home in his mom’s house as if she belonged there. In some ways she did since she practically grew up in the kitchen, but they were adults now. Besides, didn’t she have someone else to take care of? He didn’t care for the constant attention and the guilt he felt when he shrugged her questions off. He still appreciated how she looked after him, but he was honestly fine then. She could move on with her life. But he couldn’t say that to her. “To the woods to look for mom,” he answered instead. She touched the wound on his head, and he winced. “I’m not so sure you’re ready for that yet. The storm knocked out tons of trees. You could easily lose your footing and get hurt again.” Karl jerked her hand away. “Look, woman. I can take care of myself. I’m not sitting here like an invalid any longer. Mom’s missing, and I’m going to find her.” Marta’s eyes dropped, and her hands fidgeted together. Great. She was hurt. Dammit. Karl huffed. “Look,” he started, putting a hand on her forearm and looking into her dirt brown eyes. “Look, I really, truly appreciate everything—and I mean everything—you’ve done since Mom disappeared, but really, I’m okay now, and I’m more than ready to get back to my old self. You have your own life to get back to. Fartho needs you more than I do. Go back to your man. Go back to your home. I’m going to be gone for a while, anyway. There’s nothing more you can do for me, Marta. I swear. Now please, go get on with your life.” He embraced her before he led her to the door. She tried to protest as he opened it and led her outside. “I mean it. Go home. Live. I’ll be fine.”

Marta’s shoulders sagged, and her feet dragged. Karl felt like a monster, but it couldn’t be helped. He had no interest in Marta that way and to let her continue to care for him would give everyone, especially Fartho, the wrong idea. It was better that way. “I’m always around,” she said. “And I meant it. The woods are in rough shape. Be careful. I really hope you find your mom.” But you won’t because she’s dead. She hurried away, so he wouldn’t see the guilt in her eyes. Karl felt lousy as he picked up his pack and headed for the market. The beautiful woman had also told him to bring fish, and he understood that part. He disappeared into the shop, wrapped up four big salmon, and tied them to his pack. “Mark that down for inventory,” he told Oskar. “I’m heading for the woods. I’ll pick up where Eiric left off.” “Okay, boss. I’ll let him know. Happy hunting.” Oskar made the sign of the cross as Karl ed him. He knew it was for luck, but the old school beliefs of the village never seemed anything more than harmless prattle. The storm and pandemic were proof their ways didn’t work. “You can reach me by phone as long as I have a signal. Leave me a message, and I’ll call you back as soon as I can. Deal?” Oskar nodded. Karl started to leave then turned back around. “Are we still selling more fish than we can haul?” “Yup. I just had to put another order in with Lasko an hour ago. Can’t get 'em gutted and sliced fast enough.” “Good. Raise the price of salmon by five cents. If they don’t have it, give it to them, anyway.” “Sounds good, boss. When will you be back?” Never, Karl wanted to say, but he knew that wouldn’t sit well. “As soon as I can. The weather’s getting colder. I have to find Mom. She’s out there somewhere; I’m not coming back without her.” “You’ll find her, boss. I know it. The gods always favored you.”

Karl’s finger traced his scar absently. For someone favored by the gods, he certainly never felt that way. Shouldn’t his life be a whole lot easier if that were true? Wouldn’t Dad still be around? Karl disagreed. Something certainly favored him, but it wasn’t the gods.

Chapter Eight

Marta was right: the forest was in rough shape. Thick trees were ripped out of the ground and tossed aside, blocking old paths. Landslides raked at the hills to make an imable slop. The traveling wasn’t easy, and it was impossible to track his mom. He looked to the sky and let out a sigh. “Hey, Ukko, my mom brought you fish. Where are you? You struck us with lightning. You struck us with plague. Mom thinks you’re up there, but I can’t help but think you’re trash to do everything you did.” The mood changed. Everything was already drab, but the greens were muted until they looked gray. The bark aged. Mushrooms and rot overtook the forest. Slithering surrounded Karl, and his stomach wretched, forcing him to vomit, though he couldn’t figure out why he felt sick. There was a hiss. “Why, hello there.” His eyes darted around to find it, especially with the slithering getting closer. “Hi. Who might you be?” “No one, really.” A snake made its way up a fallen tree and rested its head on the trunk. “You can’t be real. It has to be from when I hit my head.” He wiped his eyes, but the fat, flat head still rested there, with puffy cheeks and massive fangs. “If only. Marta failed it would seem. She was to keep you wrapped up, however, she did that, and keep you away from the forest. She gave me some time, but not all the time I needed.” The head swayed side to side, gaining height until it towered over Karl. “Jata? The plague goddess? The vile snake?” He held out the fish, lips curled in disbelief, jaw open. It was straight out of his mom’s stories. “Here?” Jata laughed, the snake tumbling to its back and coiling violently. Every slap to the earth caused it to shake. Her tail hit trees hard enough to send bark and splinters flying. Karl covered his face, as what she thought of as laughing was immensely dangerous to Karl.

“Fish?” It unfurled and hissed in Karl’s face. Venom from the fangs dripped onto him, and he watched it sear through his flannel. “I will eat you instead.” As it was about to strike, the man with the moss beard from town stood next to Karl. With a trunk, it blocked Jata, making the snake bite the wood. Jata’s eyes went wide. “Misbehaving, you are, Jata. Birthright this young man has. Will right your foul wrongs.” He looked to Karl. “Glad I am you are here.” “What the—” “Oh, never mind, boy.” The moss-bearded man tossed the tree as if it was a small stick, and the snake went flying beyond the forest, rolling down a hill, and eventually splashing in the water. “Old wretch will be fine, she will. Not right in the heart that one, no, no. Never mind. Come, come.” “Who are you?” “Never mind my name for now. It’ll be fine, it will,” he said, taking great strides. Karl had to nearly sprint to keep up, hurtling and scrambling over the debris. Then there was a thick tree line and once past that tree line, there was a massive castle made out of wood. Trees twirled around each other to create the walls and towers. Each tree was still very alive, making foliage adorn the ramparts and spires. “Ah, here we are. Come, come. Inside you go, Karl. Lots to talk about there is.” Then the woman came out, a stunning vision that made it impossible for Karl to think. “I’m sorry, my husband doesn’t get out much. I’m Mielikki, and he is Tapio. We’re the rulers of the forests here in Finland, we are. Would love to show you some hospitality, we would, so please, if you don’t mind, come in. But take off your shoes and put on some slippers.” He was ushered in, pushed through, and little people seemingly made of wood, with grass and moss for hair, continued to take him through the halls, strip him down, adorn him in natural looking finery; they took the fish, and finally sat him

down at a large table, which was the stump of a tree impossibly wide. “What’s happening? Am I dead?” “No, no,” Tapio said. “Not dead. Not yet. Might be soon. Who knows?” Mielikki scowled at Tapio and elbowed him. “Thank you for the fish. We love fish.” There was another girl there. She was lovely, though not quite as lovely as Mielikki. But there was an allure in the way she held herself, the way she smiled, the way animals and the little servant creatures seemed to adore her. Hope swelled in Karl’s heart, like he was seeing the birth of the world right there, sitting in front of him. Mielikki smiled when she caught Karl’s gaze. “Yes, that’s our daughter, Tellervo. She’s the goddess of the woods. She’d make a good wife, she would.” Karl choked.

Chapter Nine

“W -wife? You called me out to the forest to find a wife?” Karl said, disbelief sputtering his words as he rubbed his eyes and pinched his arm. “Mom’s missing and everyone seems intent on finding me a wife or becoming one.” Fury flashed in his eyes. He started back the way Tapio had brought him in. “I mean no disrespect. Your daughter is absolutely stunning, and I’m sure she’d make a great wife. I just have no time to fall in love, let alone marry. I need to find Mom. Please, enjoy the fish, but I can’t stay.” Mielikki pushed Karl into a chair gently. “Yes, yes. You’d be a hero, you would. This was the promise.” Karl gulped. The last thing he wanted to do was anger another goddess. Women had an internal fury that once unleashed made even the strongest man seem weak in comparison. He held his hands up in apology. “Look, I’m just a fishmonger. Mom is missing, and honestly? That’s really the only reason I came to the forest.” Did they not hear him the first two times he told them? Mielikki shot Karl a look of skepticism. “With fish?” Disappointment brought a rosy cast to Tellervo’s face making her even more impossibly beautiful. She ran from the room. Great going, Karl. You’re two for two in hurting women, and it’s not even noon yet. What’s next? Finding out Mom’s dead? Karl shuddered. No, he refused to dwell on that last thought. Mom couldn’t be dead. “Mmm,” Mielikki said, her tone softening. “In your heart o’ hearts you know. You do. We asked for fish, you brought fish, you did. Why?” She paused as a blush crept over Karl’s face. “A sour belly, bad feeling. Right?” Not exactly. When a beautiful woman tells a single man to bring fish, he does it, even if she was married to the strangest creature he ever laid eyes on. “Something like that,” Karl itted. “I really am worried about Mom. She’s made a lot of offerings to the gods before and always came back. That storm...” “Yes, yes that storm. Disease. Sickness. Death. The snake? She set it loose, she did,” Tapio interrupted.

“The snake? Jata? She did that?” “Mmm. It’ll be fine now that you’re here. Yes, yes.” Karl shrugged his shoulders. “What can I do? I don’t even believe in that stuff.” Tapio scoffed. “No, no, you do. You’re here.” Mielikki watched Karl’s eyebrows furrow. “You must. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t, you wouldn’t. Do you always do what a woman tells you to do, especially after seeing a guy like Tapio? No, no. You knew. You came. You’ll fix everything.” “But-but how?” Karl scratched his head. If he was confused before, it was even worse now. “I run a market. I catch fish and gut them. I’m nobody.” Tapio chuckled. “He doesn’t know. No, no, he doesn’t.” Mielikki sighed. “Guess it’s time. Tellervo, bring tea, three cups.” Tellervo appeared from behind the door with a wooden tray. Despite its crude appearance, when she set it down in front of Karl, he saw the markings of the Futhark, the Viking runes. They didn’t give him enough time to read them before Mielikki held a filled teacup in front of his face. Karl looked into the cup with misgivings. Gods could be tricky, Mom always warned him. Would he wake up and find himself married to Tellervo if he drank it? He looked at Tellervo again. It could be worse. It could be Marta standing there. Still, he was reluctant to drink. He held onto his cup but didn’t sip from it. “Something wrong with your tea?” Mielikki asked. Karl blushed. “No, I prefer it cooler.” Mielikki’s eyes flashed as if she knew he was lying. “Mmm. So.” “Yes, yes. So.” Tapio repeated. “Do you know how your Da died?” Mielikki said. Her silver eyes pierced through Karl’s.

“He drowned at sea,” Karl gulped. He didn’t like talking about the day Dad never came back. “Mmm. And his body?” The metallic flashes of her eyes punctured his skin, and he squirmed. “Lost.” The teacup trembled and sloshed hot liquid over Karl’s thumb and leg. He yelped and set the cup on the table, spilling its contents onto the wooden tray. “I’m sor—” “Wait!” Mielikki demanded as the liquid seeped into the etching on the tray. When the tea stopped spreading, Tapio moved next to the tray, carefully studying it, cautious not to move it. The air in the room turned frigid as a leafy arm quivered. He leaned and whispered into Mielikki’s ear, and then he whispered into Tellervo’s ear. The younger woman rushed from the room and didn’t return. Mielikki sat the teacup on its base and grit her jaw. “What? What’s going on?” Karl asked. Mielikki licked her lips. “Lovietar.” She said it so softly Karl wasn’t sure he heard her at first. “Lovie-” Tapio shushed him. “The-the goddess of death and disease? I thought you said Jata was behind this?” Karl accused. “Yes, yes. She is. She was. Not strong enough. Had help.” Tapio snarled. “Hiisi.” Karl’s eyebrows rose, and his eyes widened. “Nope, sorry, I’m out. Nope. No. I’ll have nothing to do with this.” He rose from his seat and headed for the door, pinching himself as he went. Tellervo blocked his exit. Tears pooled in her eyes. “Please,” she whispered. Karl stared at her, but he didn’t try to move around her. “Please,” she whispered again. “Stay. Listen. Learn. Finland needs you.”

Chapter Ten

He sat at the table , growling in the back of his throat reflexively. His leg shook so badly that the table jostled with him. Mielikki kept talking about Lovietar, Hiisi, and Jata as if it was a normal thing. He ed the stories, as a child, when they would hear of the evils in the forest. But those stories were to scare little boys who wanted to adventure in the bear-infested woods. Tellervo brought more tea and sat by him. She would give him that knowing glance Marta did now and then while sick. Yet, there was an innocence to the forest goddess. Enchantment wrapped around her, wreaths of adoration which struck his heart. It had to be the tea, the environment, or the desperation. “Bring her in,” Mielikki said, and suddenly Karl was on the edge of his seat. “Who?” Tears dripped down Mielikki’s cheeks, and it was as if all the wood in the forest groaned with her pain, the wood in the castle as well. “Your mom.” Elves, little, short elves, walked in. They looked like people, yet only two-feet tall. The features were just a smidge off, too. Long arms. Long legs. Eyes slanted at strange angles or shaped as ovals. All of those features were forgotten when they brought in a cart, and in it were the remains of his mom. Karl threw up all over the table. Tellervo, frowning, rubbed his back. Whispered words calmed him slightly. His heart slowed, his breathing deepened, and the world came back into focus. “Why?” “She was to atone with your father she was. Not that she did anything wrong; Jata did something wrong, and you will all pay for it if the natural order isn’t put back in place.” “The plagues,” he whispered, numb. “Jata’s doing. If the plague spreads well enough, it’ll summon Lovietar. That day

is coming, it is. If she’s here—” Elves came to clean up the vomit, as Mielikki let the words hang in the air. “Wait, my father?” He looked up, desiring to throw up again, but Tellervo calmed his nerves. “Ukko, god of the sky. Your father.” The taste and scent of vomit was swallowed down as he heard the news, and he blew his nose to clear it. “I’m sorry. You lost me on that one.” “Your mom has been so devout because her lover is the sky.” He took a deep breath. “And that’s a no.” He stood. “I can’t. I’m out. Let the world end if you’re not willing to right it.” “We can’t,” Tellervo begged. The pleas of the youthful maiden were nearly enough to make him stay. Instead, he walked away. The strange little folk cleaned him as he left, though he didn’t feel anything. If he hadn’t seen them do it, felt cleaner, and noticed his clothes were as if brand new, he wouldn’t have known anything happened at all. And then the doors opened, he walked through, and they shut behind him. Second thoughts rang in his head. Turning revealed there was no second chance. The castle was gone. Karl dropped to his knees and looked up at the sky. It was raining, with thunder roaring in the distance. “Is it true?” he shouted. “Ukko, god of the sky, are you my dad?” A bright light shot through the sky, and lightning struck Karl. Then he was standing, and the world was in a blue tone. Glancing down, he saw his body, smoldering. This was not good. He was certainly dead. A light hovered in front of him, and he touched it. A jolt shot up to his elbow causing his arm to spasm. “Why’d you go and do that?”

“Build a shrine of wood. Place meat on it. Burn it. You will be blessed for you are my son.” “Why would I do a thing like that? You have to be Ukko, and I’m dead or hallucinating, so I’m going to let you have it. Because what else could you possibly do to me?! Why did you—” Karl poked the light again, as if poking his father’s chest out of anger, and once his finger connected, there was a second jolt. His soul hopped back, fell into his body, and he opened his eyes to find the world painted in the many grays Finland afforded.

Chapter Eleven

The entire time he collected fallen sticks, as there were a lot from the storms, he cursed his father. He said horrible things about Jata. There were numerous questions as to his mother’s judge of character and decency that she would shack up with a ball of light. By evening the shrine was built. “Now what?” he grumbled, looking around the forest. He could catch fish well enough, but they were pretty far from the coast. There had to be rabbits and birds, but he was no good at catching either. Bleating could be heard close by and stuck under a fallen tree was a goat with a gray coat. He was covered in mud. However, he didn’t flail. Instead, the goat made eye with Karl, and then stopped bleating. A stone knife with runes was nearby. Karl looked at the knife, then at the goat, and grumbled, “You have to be kidding me.” As if in response, the goat closed its eyes and tilted its head up to expose its neck. “This is ridiculous. It’s all ridiculous. I hate the gods. I hate this plague. I hate that I’m the son of a god.” He grabbed the stone knife and there was a bit of a spark, or so he thought. The rock was warm to the touch, despite being outside in the cold weather. He knelt down by the goat and whispered, “I’m sorry. This is all very stupid. But I fear I’m at the point of simply embracing my delusions.” With that, he slit the goat’s throat. The stone blade cut easily, far easier than stone should have, and the animal died instantly. Karl clumsily cut off some flesh, placed it on the fire, and then used a lighter to get the fire going. Soon the entire shrine was ablaze, illuminating the area which twilight was keen on swallowing. A roar broke the crackle of the fire, and a bear charged through the forest at Karl. With nowhere to run, and very little visibility, he remained close to the flames. He took a stick that wasn’t entirely engulfed, and wielded it in one hand while

holding the knife in the other. The bear came in, then broke away when Karl shoved the fire in its face. This little dance continued until the shrine was nearly out, and as the shrine dwindled, so did the stick Karl used. The bear charged in, Karl moved to the side and slashed at it with the knife, and blood spilled from the beast’s arm. However, the cut wasn’t enough to slow the bear. With its other paw, it swiped Karl across the chest, leaving three claw marks. It wasn’t deep, but it stung, forcing him to his knees. If Karl wasn’t already dead, or in a fevered dream, this would be it. The period on a very bizarre day. The world would be on its own. “A man accepts his fate,” he said, looking up at the bear. The bear snorted, bowed its head to touch against Karl’s, then walked away. Karl ed out. When he woke up it was day. The scar over his chest was still raw, sticky, and tender to the touch. There was a blue tint on the edges, though it didn’t hurt like an infection. It also seemed like the skin was growing back quicker than it should have. Sitting up he glanced over to where the shrine had been, just to make sure that part happened, too. Something shined in the rubble of burnt wood, and he went to look. There was an ax, made of a blue-gray metal. It looked a bit like a boat anchor, and when he picked it up a small jolt went through his body. “Magical weapons? Bear didn’t kill me? I’m dead. Have to be. Might as well see what’s happening in the village. I’m sure there are a dozen naked women waiting for me in my house, and my market has expanded to every major city.” He laughed because it was the only thing he could think to do. The laugh was swallowed back when a giant stag charged at him. On top of it was a man. Sort of. He looked like he belonged to the forest, just like the king and queen of the forest and their daughter. “I am Hiisi. I’ve come to warn you.” “No,” he said. “No. You are not Hiisi. That stag is not really here. I have lost my

mind or my body, and this is all in my head. Or the afterlife. I’m no longer holding to any shred of reality. This could be the afterlife.” “You’re not dead yet. Rush to the village. Protect the people. Jata is angry.” Just like that, the stag ran off. “Fuck.” And he ran off to the village.

Chapter Twelve

“E iric?” Karl stared incredulously at his fish market. It looked like a bomb had dropped from the sky and landed just north of it. The damage to the building was atrocious. Unmoving bodies lay scattered helter-skelter around the worst of the damage. He half expected to see Marta tending to the wounded, but strangely, she was nowhere in sight. He caught sight of Eiric moving about in the remaining part of the structure and breathed a sigh of relief. “Eiric!” he shouted, and the man stumbled toward him. Eiric was clearly not okay. Blood oozed from a wound on his head, and he limped. Wetness darkened one of his pant legs, and he gripped his left arm with his right hand. Soot discolored his face. Karl rushed to his side and helped him sit on a bench nearby. “What happened?” Karl asked once the man had caught his breath. “One minute the store is busy, as Lasko had just brought in a fresh catch, then next thing I know, the biggest stag I have ever seen came charging through the building, its nose blazing fire, and its hooves crumbling everything it touched. I got caught in the collapse.” Karl thought about his encounter with Hiisi. “A giant stag? Was anyone riding it?” Eiric’s face pinched as pain stole his breath. He finally managed a small shake of his head, but shrugging his shoulders proved to be too much for him. He held up his good hand, leaned back against the bench, and closed his eyes. A blood stain grew along the side of Eiric’s white shirt, and Karl leaned in to investigate. Something had embedded itself into Eiric’s waist. A gentle lift of his shirt revealed a large shard of glass sunken into the soft skin of his abdomen. Karl couldn’t see the end of the glass, so he pressed his fingers against the edge of the wound hoping to feel it, but it was useless. The shard was either deeply embedded, or the man bled too profusely to tell. The odor emanating from the wound combined with the slick heat of blood on his fingers made Karl’s stomach churn. He turned his face away and held his breath until the nausea subsided. Karl searched for Marta in the gathering crowd and didn’t find her. Before he could get someone to call emergency services, the sound of sirens filled the air.

An ambulance stopped in the middle of the street, and a technician ran to Karl. “Is he alive?” the tech asked. Eiric waved his good hand weakly. “Yes, but I don’t know how much longer he will be if you don’t treat him right away. Besides the wound on his head and the messed-up shoulder, there’s the piece of glass sticking out of his waist.” Karl helped Eiric raise up his arm, so the tech could get a better look. The tech summoned his assistant over with the cart, and together they loaded Eiric into the back of the ambulance. “How many more?” the tech asked as he shut the door and tapped the back. The ambulance drove off with sirens wailing. Karl took a deep breath. The weight of the world suddenly crashed on his shoulders. His head hung. “I don’t know. It had already happened when I arrived. I haven’t had a chance to check. Eiric said the market was busy, though.” Karl’s nostrils flared, and the axe he’d forgotten about tingled against his leg. Eiric’s comment about the great stag floated in his head. Had Hiisi warned him before or after he’d attacked his market? If Hiisi was at fault, why did he say it was Jata’s doing? The axe burned against Karl’s thigh, only inflaming his anger. He’d deal with Hiisi later. First, he needed to tend to his village. And where was Marta? He scanned the people around the market. She wasn’t among them. Unless Marta was in the market when Hiisi attacked. His breath caught. He may not love Marta the way she wanted him to, but he cared about her. She was his oldest friend. The gods took his mother away from him. They took his market away from him. Had they taken Marta, too? Guilt overtook him as his mind returned to that morning. Marta had only meant kindness, yet he’d hurt her and sent her home. He looked into the blazing sun. “Please, Father. Let her be okay,” he begged.

The sun disappeared behind a large cloud and stayed there. Karl gripped his axe in his fist and entered the chaos of his market. Layers of ash mingled with crumbled concrete and broken glass. The floor was slickened with a combination of soot, fish guts, and possibly blood. He picked his way carefully through the building, noting the location of a few still bodies, their open eyes glazed with death. His stomach roiled, and his anger festered into rage. A pair of legs stuck out from beneath a large of concrete roof. With his axe, Karl hit the concrete until it broke in half. Oskar lay under the slab, his neck twisted at an odd angle with his body, his eyes wide open, and terror frozen on his face. What control Karl had maintained left him, and he emptied his stomach on the slab. Tears of rage and sadness left trails on his soot-darkened face as he left the building and fell into Lasko’s arms. “Boy! You scared me,” Lasko said as he released Karl. “I saw all the bodies getting carted out...” his voice tapered off as Karl’s shoulders shrunk. “They’re gone,” Karl whispered. Lasko frowned. “Who’s gone?” “Mom, Oskar, the market.” Karl looked at the devastation again. “I’ll never recover from that.” “Wait. Your mom is gone? She died in the market?” Pain pinched Karl’s face, and he clutched his chest. He stumbled forward, and Lasko caught him. He noticed the gashes in Karl’s shirt for the first time. “You’re hurt. Damn, Karl, you’re in worse shape than a trout on a hook. Why aren’t you in the back of an ambulance yourself?” Lasko chided. Karl shook his head. “I’m healing.” His face pinched again as another wave of fiery pain burned through him. “It’s a really long and bizarre story. Take me to the dock, and I’ll tell you, but I don’t expect you to believe me. I still don’t believe it myself.”

Chapter Thirteen

“O kay, spill it,” Lasko said as he tended to Karl’s torn chest. Karl was correct in that it was healing on its own. Lasko had little to do, but there was nothing— short of a hot mug of Glogg—that could ease Karl’s pain. The claw marks explained themselves, but Lasko wanted to know how Karl had managed to survive a bear attack and why he wasn’t more severely harmed. As Karl laid back on the dock, the axe thumped the wooden planks and drew Lasko’s attention to it. Lasko’s eyes widened as he took in the distinct markings. “Boy, you best tell me what you’re doing with Ukko’s axe, and what happened to the bear that attacked you.” His hands held tenderness, but his voice was firm. Lasko was not pleased. “Give me a moment, and I’ll tell you everything, please,” Karl begged. His strength was tapped. Too much had happened in so short a time. “Fine. But I’m not casting ‘til you do.” Lasko set his rod back on the dock and pulled out a harmonica. Sweet music spilled from between his hands and lips and soon schools of fish gathered beneath the dock. Lasko nudged Karl with an elbow and stopped playing. “You fall asleep?” Karl sighed and winced. The pain had barely dulled. He rose slowly and set the axe between himself and Lasko; his fingers absently traced the runes engraved on it. He marveled for a moment at the collection of fish beneath them. “I don’t even know where to begin.” “Well, when in doubt, it’s always best to start at the beginning. The last time I saw you was before the storm. Shit hit hard after that. Staying out on the water was the only thing that saved me, but the fish’ve been bountiful since the storm, so I can’t complain. But this is your story. Spill it.” Lasko tucked the harmonica into his pocket and cast his line away from the fish gathered beneath them. He had no intention of catching anything, it just gave him something to do while he listened. “Mom insisted on taking a fish offering to appease the gods, as she always did when a storm sprang up out of nowhere. And as always, I followed her into the woods, but this time I didn’t find her.”

Karl droned on, the words falling easily from his lips. Lasko listened attentively, nodded when appropriate, and growled with the mention of Jata, Hiisi, and Lovietar. He seemed unsurprised about Mielikki and Tapio, and even less concerned over their fascination with him being Ukko’s son and their desire for him to marry Tellervo. He just nodded in the way he had and waited for Karl to finish. “Once I left their castle, it disappeared. The bear attacked me and strangely only scratched me after I sacrificed the goat. I fell asleep, and Hiisi rode in on that strange stag of his, offered a warning and disappeared in a blink. I rushed to the village only to find the market destroyed. Eiric said he saw a giant stag attack the building.” He looked at Lasko then, his eyes wide and crinkled with disbelief. “But that’s all impossible, isn’t it? Just a nightmare resulting from my concussion?” Lasko didn’t answer right away. Instead, he tapped his reel twice, pulled his line in, and set the rod back on the dock. He pulled out his pipe, stuffed it with tobacco, and sent a few smoke circles out over the water. “That you encountered a bear is real enough. You have the scars to prove it. As for the rest, the question is do you believe it happened? Kaija, bless her soul, believed in it. Your da, bless his soul, believed in it.” He chuckled as a small fish nibbled at the toe of his boot. “The fish believe in it. I believe in it.” Lasko stopped talking then and pulled out his harmonica again. Before he could blow the first note, Karl stopped him. “Did you hear that?” Lasko’s harmonica stopped in mid-air as he listened. “Help me,” a small voice cried from the distance. A hand waved from about 25 feet from the shore. “Someone’s in the water!” Karl sprang up and dived in without undressing, “Wait!” Lasko tried to stop him, but it was too late. Karl was a fast swimmer, one of the fastest in their village. “Fine. Guess I’ll grab the lifeboat then.” Karl caught up to the drowning man and wrapped an arm around him to help

keep his head above water. A sinister smile spread across the drowning man’s face. “Ukko’s son if I live and breathe. Hajatar told me I’d find you here. I didn’t really expect you to be heroic and all that. Surely it would take much more to convince you to save me,” he said, wrapping his fish tail around Karl’s legs. He jerked Karl under, and Karl broke away long enough to breach the surface and sputter for air. As the nix’s tail wrapped around his feet again, Karl kicked and managed to break away. Lasko pulled him out of the water and tossed him into the lifeboat. The nix emerged from the water and grabbed Karl’s foot, but Lasko sliced through the webbed fingers with his filet knife. The creature retreated into the water for a moment. “That’s a merman, Karl. Row! You can’t save it. Death follows it. I only nicked it. Row before it returns.” The nix rose up against the opposite side of the small craft and smacked its fishlike tail in the water, creating a huge wave. Unable to withstand the current, the boat capsized, dunking its inhabitants into the water. The nix wrapped Lasko in his tail and stared Karl down. “It’s my lucky day. The son of Ukko and Ahto, the sea god.” He licked his lips, and the grin disappeared. “Come with me, and I’ll let him go.”

Chapter Fourteen

“N o,” Karl whispered . The skies broiled. The water no longer felt frigid against Karl’s skin, as it felt like his blood was on fire. “No,” he said just a little louder, as he held out his ax and pointed it at the merman. The nix’s eyes lost focus, darting around, from the ax to the skies. Lightning streaked across, and the thunderclap was enough to make a heart skip. Lasko was released immediately, and the nix put up its hands. “Let me live, child of Ukko, creator of lightning, bearer of the ax, and I will let you go on your way. This was a jest, a mere trifling, to see if I could awaken the god in you.” A slimy smile crossed the nix’s face. “Come now. I have power, you know. I can see the future. Wouldn’t you like that? I’ll tell you what’s to come, and you and your friend swim back to shore.” More lightning streaked the sky, spider webbing. Karl knew it was because of him, but he didn’t understand why. He didn’t understand how to control it, or he’d strike the strange fish man down on the spot. But the creature did not realize Karl lacked control. “What do you mean?” “I can prophesy what is to come. That sounds useful, yes?” Sniveling. Karl hated sniveling. But what was he to do? “I agree.” The clouds rescinded a little, and the lightning was off in the distance. “Tell me what you see, and I might spare your life.” Karl decided he’d lean into the absurd at that point. Maybe it would prove helpful. Lasko swam over to Karl, though he did not have to tread water. It held him, as if he simply stood in the sea. A lot of questions to ask— A tentacle reached out from the sea and wrapped around the nix. He was tossed in the air, flung to a beak piercing the water far off in the distance. Karl’s jaw dropped. Lasko shouted, “Boy, to the shore. It’s Iku, the demon of the

water. We don’t stand a chance. Run to the shore. At least you can defend yourself there. Let’s move.” A voice came from the beak, one that made Karl tremble. It vibrated through the sea and filled his ears, so he couldn’t even hear the waves lapping up against him. “Let me prophecy for you, little god. The goddess of death has been impregnated by me. Plague will sweep the earth, and then a child will come and be the scourge of the world. Life will wither and die, and you will all us in the underworld, where we will torment you forever. Now come, let me consume you, little god.” A tentacle reached out and grabbed Karl. Lasko shouted, “Channel the rage. Don’t let the fear grab you! It’s too late to run, and it’s kill Iku, or let Iku eat us time.” The tentacle lifted Karl up high. He could see the village and quite a bit beyond it. The damage to the city was evident, and everything looked black from the strange soot that had fallen, still not washed away despite all the rain. He was released, flung through the air, and he righted himself. This was his power, the power given to him by his mom and asshole dad. He closed his eyes, lifted the ax, and roared, “Ukko, give me lightning. Strike this octopus down.” A bang rippled through the sky, and Karl felt lightning course through him. He heard a whisper, “Guide it with the ax.” Pointing the ax at the beak, he struck it, fracturing the mouth. Tentacles thrashed, and there was a bellow that shook Karl’s soul. Again, the lightning came and went out, striking the monster. However, the beast recovered, and slammed Karl with a tentacle, throwing him through the air and toward the village. “I’m dead,” he mumbled, flying toward the city. “I’ve survived a bear. I got hit by that tentacle, but this time—” He slammed into the street with enough force to create a path dug into the asphalt. It melted along the edges where it wasn’t shattered. It hurt a lot. His back was sore, like when he hauled in large amounts of fish all

day for Lasko. When he stood, his bones cracked, righting themselves. “Your insolence will not stand!” The cry could be heard, but the beast was far away. “I wonder if I can fly.” The day continued to get stranger, and there was no reason to believe otherwise. There were stories of heroes flying off to peril. So, he lifted his ax to the sky.

Chapter Fifteen

Blushing from embarrassment , it quickly became apparent that flying was not within Karl’s newfound powers. He cleared his throat, feeling like everyone stared at him for the stupid pose. Never crossed his mind that they stared due to the fact he left a crater in the earth. A car stopped behind him, and he went up to Henri, who was driving. “Henri, hey, I kind of need a ride to the sea. Could you take me?” “Karl,” he said. “I don’t know if you noticed, but you fell out of the sky.” Karl nodded. “That would seem to be true. Very true. Came from the sea. Have to get back there.” “Yeah? What’s there? I’m not sure I feel comfortable driving to where you were just thrown from.” “Nothing much, Henri. Nothing much.” He wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “Just an octopus problem. Nearly—” A tentacle thrashed the land, striking near the car. It hit hard enough that the vehicle bounced an inch off the ground. “Nope. I don’t think I will drive that way.” Henri backed up, turned around, and drove off. “Well, that wasn’t helpful.” Karl turned and another tentacle came down. This time, he stepped to the side, letting it barely miss, then dug his ax in. The tentacle recoiled and brought him back out to sea. “Yup, that will do.” When he returned to the fight, Lasko was armed and armored like a warrior, fighting against the great sea monster. “Prince of the sky,” he bellowed, “I could use your aid.” Karl chopped off the tentacle, and it flopped about before splashing in the sea with enough force the water overflowed at the shore. He fell toward the beak and

struck the crack again and again, keeping the tentacles off him. Finally, he chipped a piece of the beak, and the monster roared. “It is too late, little god. The deed is done, and your foe will be upon you still. For your friends, death will be quick. For you, suffering will be long. Die well, little god.” With that, the monstrosity dove into the depth. Karl laid on the piece of beak, and Lasko slowly pulled him toward the shore.

Chapter Sixteen

"W ell. It looks like we have some explaining to do," Lasko said as the sun broke the clouds and revealed the damage left behind. Karl rolled over and stared at Lasko. "Maybe you should start, Ahto." His jaw clenched, and he looked away from the man he'd considered a second father. He slowly sat up and stared out at the newly calmed sea. Lasko hung his head and drew a circle in the dirt. "You're right. Your da and me? We go way back. I don't even who met whom first, and though it seemed like an accident at the time, we were both hunting the giant eagle when we ran into each other. "Find your own bird," Ukko said, raising his fist and slamming his hammer into the ground. Lasko blinked and flattened himself on the ground as the giant eagle beat its wings and summoned a great windstorm. "Fool! This is no bird," Lasko answered, digging his heels in. Ukko eyed Lasko as if he thought he was a mere mortal. "I know. I am Ukko. I will destroy this giant wreaking havoc on my land." Ukko slammed his hammer on the ground again, which only angered the bird more. "I am Ahto, from the sea. I was sent here to convince the giant to steady the wind, so we can sail the ocean again." The bird beat its wings again, changing direction. Lasko hugged the ground, but Ukko took the full force of the gale without losing his balance. He struggled to lift his ax. Lasko held no weapons. "You came unprepared for battle?" Ukko mocked. Lasko rose from the ground and held out his hands. A small spear materialized in front of him. "That would be foolish. How about we end this and chat later?" he said as the great bird prepped its wings. "I'll distract, you attack."

"We didn't beat the giant that day, but we did form an alliance." He looked at Karl. "Your da never wanted to leave. He loved your mother, and he loved you. He had no choice, just as you have no choice." Karl refused to look at Lasko. He grit his jaw as his blood boiled. A crack of thunder gave his feelings away. "You're right to be angry, but don't take it out on the world." Karl rounded on Lasko. "Cute. Up until this morning, I didn't even know I had this power. You want me to control it?" His fist curled up unbidden, and it took everything within him not to punch the old man. "Do it," Lasko said. "Go on. You'll feel better." He even turned his face and pointed at the center of his cheek. "C'mon, little god." Karl's fist slammed into Lasko's cheek before he caught himself. As Lasko tumbled into the water, Karl expected to feel remorse, but he didn't. A calm filled him, and he bent down to help the old man out of the water. Lasko cracked his neck and rubbed his cheek. A deep bruise had already begun forming on it. "Feel better, do ya?" Karl hung his head as a slow smile spread across his face. "You all right, there?" "Pshaw. An old fishmonger like me? Was nothing. Your da would've been proud of you. No, he is proud of you." "I'm dead, aren't I, and all of this is just a weird sort of afterlife?" "Your punch says you're very much alive," Lasko chuckled. "Okay, so why now? And why haven't you told me before? All those times I watched mom go in the woods, you let me think she was just superstitious. Why?" Lasko took a deep breath. It was a good question. He'd always known this day would come; he just hadn't had the heart to tell Karl the truth. He’d wanted to

protect his innocence for as long as possible and hoped this day would never come. "Your mom—she wanted you to have a normal life, especially after your Da left." He studied Karl's face, saw the growing clouds of storms gathering over his head. "You're right. I should have told you. I'm sorry." Karl’s hand flew to his chest, and a streak of lightning danced in the sky. That Lasko kept this big secret he somewhat understood, but mom? She lied to him his whole life. That was hard to accept. More lightning flashed in the distance. “I-I can’t,” he said as he ran for the woods.

Chapter Seventeen

“W hy does my betrothed cry?” Tellervo sat by a tree, her slender shape making her out as if she was a tree. The skin-like bark soon turned to that of a pale woman. A beautiful, pale woman. “Betrothed? No. Though, you wouldn’t be the first woman getting those thoughts these past few days.” “Oh?” A brow raised as she half hid behind a tree, arcing back to see him. “Ah, just a childhood friend. Marta.” Tellervo tripped, falling face first into mud. She recovered swiftly, though mud still smeared her cheek. “Marta?” “Mhmm. You know her? Does she visit out here, too?” “No. I mean, not to the king and queen. Marta’s the daughter of Jata.” Karl wanted to slug her, woman or not. Mystical creature or not. How dare she? He coughed and felt the fatigue of fighting with Lasko and dealing with that news. It felt like control, but really he was too tired to fight her. “Jata, the snake thing? Hajatar?” Tellervo nodded, going low, moving unnaturally. Wide eyes looked up at him, probing his eyes and feelings. Tendrils reached into his chest and wrapped around his heart. Then he broke off the gaze, and the heat of his anger filled him again. “I think you’re mistaken. Shouldn’t say bad things about good people.” Lightning arced through the sky, and Tellervo took a few steps back. “I don’t say this to anger you, my betrothed. I say this as fact. Though if she wants to be close to you—” She stood there a while, thinking, looking up to the sky as if the answer to her unspoken question would simply write itself in the heavens. “I wonder if she’s to either bed you or kill you.” “Shut. Up.” Lightning cracked a tree nearby, and Karl fled farther into the forest. Until there was the snake. Jata. Marta was by her. “No,” he muttered. “You’re

—” Jata smiled, if snakes could smile. “Yes, my daughter. You’ve met? She failed me, though.” “Mom, Karl’s here. Everything...” There was a shriek. Lightning peeled through the sky. Jata leaped into the air, coiled around Marta, and devoured her. Karl shuddered. His legs nearly gave out. “Curse you, Father! And why would you swallow your own daughter?” “She failed. Fartho or not, she was to keep you in the village until Lovietar was brought into being. It’s too late now, she will come and devour the world, but you were given two opportunities to foil my plots. I even needed Hiisi to warn you about destruction in your village, and then have him do the destroying to get you out of the woods.” “Why am I supposed to not be in the woods?” Jata grinned. Marta was still struggling inside the snake, and for a moment the grin faded as she focused on swallowing. “I’m not sure I should tell you that part. Honestly, I don’t know why I sent her. I forgot how picky you people are about your marriages. I thought you’d come out here, see what had to be done, and suddenly you’d step into your father’s power. But no. You want your freedom. At the cost of the world. Delicious.” The snake lunged toward Karl before he could fully process what was being said. The fresh meal slowed the serpent down, the bulk dragging on the ground. The ax came down, leaving a gash. Then three more as Karl hacked away. Jata was able to flee from a fourth strike, but the error in attacking Karl was evident. “I won’t waste any more time,” he muttered through tears. He rubbed his nose with the back of his arm, lifted his ax, and lightning struck it. The arc moved through the ax and into Jata, frying the snake. With a small measure of hope, he sliced open the monster’s belly, and there

inside was Marta. She was a little warmer than she should have been, with some scoring marks, but she looked alive. “I don’t know if you’re good or bad, but I’ll take saving my childhood friend.” Karl carried Marta to a stream and washed her off. She was breathing and had a pulse, and that would be enough for the time. When he looked up, the castle of the forest king appeared with the door open. “Guess it’s closer than the village,” he mumbled, shambling toward it.

Chapter Eighteen

“C ome to your senses , you did?” Tapio said as Karl entered the castle, carrying the unconscious Marta with him. Mielikki’s eyes narrowed. “You bring that serpent into my home. Why?” Thunder shook the castle, and Mielikki paused. She observed the horrible state Marta was in and pitied the woman. “Come, come. Lay her on the couch, then,” she said. Tapio started to object, but she stopped him. “Let be what will be, husband.” Tapio left the room shaking his head. Mielikki looked at Tellervo, sadness in her eyes. Tellervo shrugged her shoulders and kneeled next to Karl. The same house elves who had cleaned Karl up before, then bustled around the couch, offering warm cloths, salve, and bandages, their tongues clicking in chagrin all the while. Under their diligent care, Marta sputtered and opened her eyes. She cringed under Karl’s hard face but smiled weakly. “You do love me, don’t you?” she asked, her voice fading in and out as she gasped for breath. Her mother’s venom was strong. She wouldn’t live much longer, but she would die happy knowing she hadn’t failed after all. Karl loved her. She could see it in the hard lines on his face. He was worried about her. She reached out to stroke his cheek, but he pushed her hand away. Thunder shook the castle again as his eyes darkened. “You’re my life-long friend. But like everyone else in my life, you lied to me all along. Did you keep the secret of my true identity from me, too?” Karl spat. Another rumble of thunder made the furniture move, but it wasn’t as strong as before. Marta sat up with the help of the elves. She studied Karl. How much did he know? How much could she leave out, so he wouldn’t hate her? “No,” she started. “Liar,” Tellervo interrupted. Her eyes narrowed and penetrated Marta’s. Marta gasped as tendrils reached into her chest, stealing her breath. Karl and

Tellervo’s appearances changed. First they looked stretched and thin, and then they looked short and fat. What was Tellervo doing to her? “Stop it,” Karl said. Marta gasped again as she breathed freely. Heated glances flew between the two women. “Start over.” Karl snapped his fingers, drawing Marta’s attention to him. “What you say won’t matter. You’re my friend, and nothing more. You took care of me when I needed help. I can at least listen to your story. Tell me the truth.” A tear fell from Marta’s eye. “You’ll hate me.” “Your choice. Always your choice,” Mielikki said. “I know,” Marta itted in a church whisper. “Yes, I’ve known since I was small. It’s part of why I despised Kaija for her constant prayers and offerings to the Otso. The only goddess she needed to appease was Hajatar, my mother. She’s the one worthy of ruling the forest until she was cursed to be a venomous snake, instead of the beautiful healer.” She stared at Karl with wide eyes. “If only your mother would have prayed to Jata instead, all of this would’ve been avoided.” “But—” Marta pressed her finger against Karl’s lips. “Let me finish, or it won’t get said.” An elf jumped up in alarm and cleaned Karl’s lips. “Venom,” Mielikki said. Karl nodded and redirected his attention to Marta. Her eyes had closed again, and her chest moved shallowly. She didn’t have much time left at all. “Go on,” he prompted. “Hajatar—Jata, my mother—was jealous of Ukko’s love for Kaija. When she found out Kaija was pregnant...” Jata entered Loki’s domain ready to celebrate. The gods were enjoying the feast

of the harvest left to them by the people, and she’d finally gotten her invitation to them. She primped her hair and donned her most colorful skin for the occasion, hoping to impress. Loki strung his arm around her, planted a big sloppy kiss on her cheek and paraded her around the room much to the amusement of the others. One laughed the loudest, and she turned to face her ridiculer. Ukko. And he was alone. This was her moment, and she wouldn’t waste it. “Can I get you a drink?” she offered as she slithered to a stop beside him. Ukko lifted his empty goblet and laughed, again. “You’re something else. Sure, why not be useful. Loki knows how to pick them, doesn’t he?” He elbowed Hiisi as Jata took his cup. Hiisi watched Jata carefully as she filled Ukko’s cup, taking care to sip from the goblet herself before handing it back to him. He said nothing as Ukko drained the goblet and held it out for her to refill again. “More,” Ukko said, and Jata obliged. She continued filling his goblet until he became so drunk, she could manipulate him to fulfill her desires. Under pretense of care, she stayed by his side, carrying him to his bed when he ed out and undressing him. After he finished inside her, she tucked him in and emerged from his bedroom, glowing. She could already feel his seed growing in her belly. “I’ll call her Marta and send her to live among the people.” Jata rubbed her belly. “When the time is right, you’ll marry Ukko’s son and stop the gods from ascending, and I’ll take my place under the stars where I belong.” “I don’t—” Marta gasped as the venom reached her heart. “I don’t know if it’s true, but that’s the story she told me when I first ran into her in the woods as a child.” She pulled Karl close and ran her fingers over the scar on his cheek. “The eagle attack was my doing. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just needed my father, Liam, to seal the deal.” She cast a weak glance at Tellervo. “We were supposed to marry. But I failed.” She looked away. “In part because of Fartho. Please tell him something nice about how I died. Don’t tell him the truth.” Marta’s eyes closed as her breathing slowed. Her hand dropped to her side. Her lips moved, but the words were so quiet, Karl had to lean in to hear them. “I always loved you, brother.”

Her last breath seeped from her lips like wind, and her chest stilled. Karl wanted to feel sad, but he felt numb. He’d be satisfied with anger, and he would be justified in feeling it, but that evaded him, too. His whole life was a lie, and all he felt was numb. Tellervo remained silent but stayed beside him. From the corner of his eye, he saw her move unnaturally again, but that time when the tendrils gripped his heart, they offered comfort. The ropes of wood drew him to her, and she embraced him, warmth emanating from her. “Fine mess this is,” Tapio said. Karl hadn’t even noticed him enter the room. “Yes, yes, a fine mess. Clean it, you must.” The elves busied themselves attending to Tapio’s wishes but hesitated once they removed Marta from the couch. Venom stained the lush fabric. “Burn it,” Mielikki said. “Burn it all, you should.”

Chapter Nineteen

The fire roared as whatever the venom stained was burned in a massive inferno. Marta’s corpse was on top of it. Tellervo tried to sit by him, urged on by her parents, and he let her, welcoming the company. After a time, she touched his tears, and he smiled weakly. “I’d like to be alone for a while.” “Of course.” She obliged him. The darkness was cold. Only the heat from the pyre brought him warmth. He spoke into the nothing. “By the time this is over, I’ll be surrounded by strangers. All those I knew will be dead.” The wind blew past his ear. Don’t forget who you are. That is where your family will be. “My family is dead,” he muttered to the wind, without even thinking about it. Not all. Lasko lives. I live. These kind folks are all meant to be protected by you. You are meant to be with Tellervo. “Fuck all that. Why should I protect them? Now you all want me to marry their daughter, and we don’t even know each other.” You would become king of the forest. All that is in the woods would obey you. You would unlock your blood inheritance. “Why am I talking to the wind,” he suddenly roared, standing from his spot. Everyone there was startled, giving a t gasp before hushing. Karl cleared his throat, dusted himself off, and said, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you. Was just thinking. Out loud. At that moment.” Tapio said, “Talk to the wind, you did? Good sign, good sign. Talk to it more. Walk the woods. Or we’ll go. Yes, yes, we’ll go.” The creatures of lore left, going back into the castle, leaving Karl out with the wind and Marta. The fire would still burn for some time, likely until morning. You know who I am.

“Ukko.” You could call me Dad. “Ukko will do just fine. You didn’t care when Mom died?” I did. But I was angry. I was grieving. A bear was slaughtered, disposed of disrespectfully, and its power fueled Jata. “But she’s dead now, so this is all over. I can go home and rebuild, and we’ll call it a day.” You heard Iku. There’s more to come. “Lovietar.” Karl sat down, folded his knees up, and wrapped his arms around them. “What’s that, anyway?” Bringer of the end. Her children are plagues, and the last will be a wizard, a curse upon the earth. “Iku said he already impregnated her.” The disease around the world gave her the power to come back to our world. Jata was just a pawn to that end. When she found Iku, the monster gave her the ability to create more plagues. The world will descend to the underworld, and she will rule over all of them. “What do I need to do?” Marry Tellervo. Take your seat as the king of the woods. Claim everything your blood has to offer. Karl stood and stretched. It was late. He was exhausted. The castle clearly looked like a fantastic place to rest. “Fuck off.” While he was warming to Tellervo, he wasn’t about to marry some woman who wasn’t even human just so he could gain power. “I’m not you. I just wanted Mom, my fish, and a nice life. I had that until this all happened. All because of some bear?” Lightning rippled through the sky over and over, though there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. The lightning streaked across the world, and when it thundered, those

who listened could swear they heard a man roaring in grief. Karl just heard his dad throwing a tantrum. “I’m off to find Lovietar, or whatever. If you want to guide me, great. If not, then get out of my life. I don’t need you to fuck up anything else.” There was an unsettling silence as the lightning stopped. Karl thought the calm would bring him peace, but it just made him feel abandoned. Again. The feeling was multiplied when he looked to the castle and saw it was gone. With a deep breath, he walked toward the town, now that the supernatural world turned its back on him. And he was okay with that.

Chapter Twenty

The shop was in ruins . Most of the town was flattened from Iku. The people were all gone, aside from a few lights. The elderly had nowhere else to go and figured if they were to die, they would die in their homes. Karl’s chest tightened, and he seized it with a hand. For a brief moment it felt like a heart attack. He heard footsteps behind him, clacking against the asphalt. When he turned, there was a woman, sort of, standing there, wearing leather and heels. Half her face was as porcelain, but stained purple, like a corpse. The other half the flesh had fallen off, her hair was shed, and there was a glowing red eye. “Are you the hero?” Her head cocked, and he could see worms crawling out of the skull. “No,” he whispered. “Thank goodness. Here I am, coming to his hometown, and what do I find? Old people and some man crying on the street. How disappointed would you be?” She ran a hand through the one half of raven hair she did have. “I wonder if he ran away. Maybe he found my son? That wouldn’t be ideal, but I can still eat away at the world without him.” “Who are you?” “Oh, I’m sorry. Very rude. I’m Lovietar, mother of plagues, bringer of the end. Jata did a good job getting me here, but I’ve heard she is no more. Whatever. Suits me fine.” She smiled, positioning it so only the better half of her face was visible. It was a practiced move. “What?” His heart raced, and he seized at it again as pain rippled through him. He wanted to vomit. There was a pressure pushing him down, and he could only figure she was the source. “Don’t worry your little head. I’m going to devour everything in this town, just in case he’s hiding under some old woman’s table.”

Then Karl vomited all over Lovietar’s heels. “What the actual fuck? These are made from the finest troll leather. I had to kill for these. Literally. Not kind of kill for them. I just can’t. I come to earth, hear how marvelous an age this is, and now some peasant pukes on my boot?” She went to kick him, but he grabbed her ankle. Without thinking, he crushed her foot, causing Lovietar to scream. “So, you are the hero?” Ukko’s ax materialized in his hand. “Apparently. And you’ve hurt a lot of people I love.” Then, with very little effort, he swung the ax and sent Lovietar flying through the air. Within a second, Lovietar was in front of him again, floating. “Good. Did you marry Tellervo?” “Why is everyone—” She slapped him with the back of her hand, making him spin as he crashed to the broken street. “I’ll take that as a no. This should be—” A spear shot through her, piercing her leather outfit and fitting between ribs. There was no blood. She gave a sigh and turned around. “Ahto? It’s been a while. You’re not happy to see your new queen?” “You’re queen of the dead.” He flicked his wrist, and the spear reappeared in his hand, leaving a visible hole in her outfit. “Don’t you worry. You’ll all be there soon enough, and then this stupid squabble over who is king of the forest can end.” Shadows followed along the ground, then rose around Ahto and slammed him into the ground repeatedly. “I think that’s the funny part. Jata used me to rule the forest. I used her to rule the world. You gods, up here and so close to people, forget to dream big.” The shadows continued her work, though she turned her attention away from Ahto. “Come, hero. You hit me once with your father’s ax. Hit me again.” She licked her lips, tongue moving over to the bone and licking exposed teeth and jawbone.

“I love when it’s rough.” So, he did. Instead, though, she grabbed the haft and lifted him up. She thrust her palm against his stomach and pressed her fingers in. Warmth flowed from his stomach into her fingertips, and Karl felt lightheaded. “What are you doing?” “Why I’m sucking that soul of yours nice and hard.” She moved up to his ear, so he could feel the worms against his cheek. “Don’t worry. I always swallow.”

Chapter Twenty-One

The stag charged by , and Hiisi grabbed Lovietar. “This wasn’t the deal. I’m not ready for the underworld, hag.” “Oh, but Hiisi, it was always the deal.” She made her nails long and stabbed Hiisi under his arm. Once released, she shoved her hand into his stag’s chest and ripped out the heart. “No!” Hiisi charged her, and they fought in earnest. Ahto was released from the shadows, looking worse for wear. “You need to get to the forest, Karl. You need to reach Tellervo.” “But what about—” “Hiisi will die, so we can save everyone else. He’s selfish, but he’s not an idiot. Now go. Tell them what happened.” “What about you?” Karl called lightning, it struck Lovietar, and she glared at him. As she was about to go after Karl, Hiisi grabbed hold of her arm, dislocated it, and slammed her into the ground. “I’m staying here with Hiisi to stall. Go.” Karl ran through the forest, and it wasn’t long until the castle appeared with creatures bustling. Tapio, Mielikki, and Tellervo stood there, waiting. “I’m here to marry your daughter.” “About time, yes, it is,” Mielikki said. “We must hurry before Lovietar finds us, we must.” The adrenaline left him when he saw Tellervo, then came in as nerves. There she was, adorned in flowers, and his heart skipped a beat. They didn’t know each other, but at least she comforted him. And he was doing it to save the world. Tapio said, “Your da promised you to her when you were born. You’re fulfilling

our oath.” “My dad doesn’t speak for me.” “So he doesn’t, so he doesn’t,” Mielikki chimed in. The two were brought in front of the castle, and Tapio brought out a string, wrapping around their wrists. “And so, you are bound in sight of the forest, to be tied together in love. May the gods not rend your vows. Tellervo, do you accept bondage to Karl?” “By the old ways and the new, I accept binding my heart to his.” “Karl, do you accept bondage to my daughter?” He blinked a few times, unsure what to say. Mielikki nudged him and whispered, “Repeat what she said. It is a good oath, it is.” He cleared his throat. “By the old ways and new, I bind my heart to hers.” “That’ll do, yes, yes, that’ll do,” Tapio said, finishing the knot. “I bind you under oath. Should you be sent to Lovietar in breaking your vows and may any who break you two apart meet the same fate.” Karl and Tellervo kissed, and warmth spread throughout Karl. Then lightning struck him, and he could feel his body transforming, becoming stronger, bulkier. “I can take her now,” Karl said. “There’s a chamber waiting, husband,” Tellervo said, holding his hand. “What? I meant Lovietar. I need to—” “No. You don’t have your full power. It’s not complete until—” Tapio nodded to the castle. “Stand guard we will. We aren’t that weak, no we aren’t.” So Karl and Tellervo went into the bed chamber, holding hands, pressing their foreheads against each other. “I feel guilty,” Karl said. “Don’t,” Tellervo said, and then kissed him. “I yearn for you, and I know you yearn for me. This is good.” She put his hand on her heart. “We beat as one.

With that strength, Lovietar cannot kill us.” He kissed her and laid her down on the bed. When they were finished, Karl rushed to get ready. “I hope next time we can spend more time together,” she whispered. “Definitely.” There was new energy coursing through him, and he could feel it.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Outside the castle , Lovietar stood there yelling at Tapio and Mielikki. They stopped when he came out. “Ah, I see the hero was busy getting some while his friend died.” For dramatic effect, she tossed Ahto’s lifeless body at her feet. “Hiisi is also dead, but I don’t think you really care about him, and what was I going to bring? He was made out of sticks. I suppose I could have broken off a branch or something on my way and said—” Karl seethed. The sky shook with thunder. Red tainted his vision, and he charged forward. A flurry of swings struck her, crippling her, and one removed her leg. She laughed the entire time, putting little effort into avoiding the strikes. Then she grabbed his neck and squeezed. Her leg regrew while she held him. “Feeling better? You got laid, you got to hack me a bit, and now I’ll kill you and —” Tapio and Mielikki chopped off her arms with wooden swords which were impossibly sharp. “Why?” she howled. “Why does everyone keep cutting off my monologues? I’ve heard that’s one of your favorite things. I’ve seen the movies. Let me monologue.” Her arms grew back, she embraced Tapio, and kissed him. Within moments, mushrooms grew on his body, and he collapsed into a pile of wood. “Let’s get this over with. I really need my moment with my boy since everyone seems intent on interrupting.” Lightning came down and struck her, leaving her fleshy side smoldering. “Do it again.” She grinned, looking up at him. So he did. But just before the flash struck, she grabbed Mielikki, and the lightning coursed through her. She collapsed, burn marks covering her body. “Alright, that’ll be fun to explain to your bride, if you survive. Can I monologue yet?” She gave an innocent look. He struck at her, and she moved back, dodging almost effortlessly. Sparks shot off the ax, shooting through her and causing her to flinch. She struck him in the gut, and he flew back a hundred feet. Instead of hitting the ground, though, he

floated. He could fly. He shot through the air toward her and aimed for her chest. She smiled, leaving her arms at her side. The ax went through her, into her heart. She grimaced, holding the ax, but she didn’t fight it. “Finally, I think I can monologue.” “Finally, you can die.” “Honey, what am I the queen of? I didn’t come here to stay long. I just came here to bring you all to me.” She smiled. “But you can’t do that now that you're dead.” She shook her head. “Where is Ukko, king of the sky? Your dad doesn’t do his dirty work. I don’t do my dirty work.” Karl realized what she was talking about. Her son, the one she kept going on about. His stomach clenched. “There it is.” She stroked his brow. “You get it. My son will plunge this world into despair and death. It might take a few years, but I’ve waited centuries already for this moment. I can wait a decade more.” “Why did you fight me?” “Buy time. My son is strong enough by now to kill you.” She shrugged. “Goodbye, Karl. I’ll see you in hell.” She smiled, touched his cheek, and then went limp, her body coming undone as crawling creatures which burrowed into the ground. “Great, now where’s your son?” He and Tellervo went into town, and on the news, they showed a cowled man fighting the military over Helsinki. “That wasn’t hard to find.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

“W ife, stay here.” “We should fight him together.” “I’m meant to fight him. You stay here.” “Please don’t die.” “I’ll see you soon.” He kissed her, they embraced, and then he flew off. Flying didn’t seem to take much energy, which was appreciated since he would need all the energy he could get once he arrived in Helsinki. It was also nice that he traveled faster than driving would allow him. As he made his way through the clouds, a man flew next to him. Karl sneered. “I don’t need you.” “You do. Don’t worry, when this is done, I’ll let you be. I’m proud of what you became. Your mom would be, too.” They flew the rest of the way in silence. Jets flew past as they closed in on Helsinki, and when the clouds broke, the shrouded figure floated there, destroying the city. Tendrils of darkness shot away from him, and whatever they touched crumbled and aged. As an afterthought, the figure dodged or blocked any incoming attacks. Then he froze and turned to face Karl and Ukko. “Nine plagues will consume the world, but the ninth will be the worst of all. A boy from the loins of Lovietar, given to her by Iku, just as his other eight brothers and sisters were given.” He grinned, and under the hood was the face of a young boy. “Child, I don’t want to hurt you,” Karl said. Ukko put a hand on Karl’s chest. “He’s no boy. Don’t be fooled.” He pulled down the cowl. “Ukko is right. Let’s dispel that little belief here and

now.” Darkness turned into a scythe. When he struck at Karl, it became ten feet tall. Ukko charged in front of it, taking the scythe to his shoulder. Lightning bled out as Ukko grunted. “Oh, Dad loves his son, or this would be over now. You know, Ukko, don’t you? You can’t beat me.” The boy grinned, wiggled the scythe in the wound, and then retracted it. Karl charged forward with his ax and swung. It was blocked by darkness. Then Ukko struck on the other side. The shadow shifted, giving Karl an opening. He hit the boy and sent him flying to the ground. He toppled a building in his descent. “This is going to get bloody,” Karl muttered. “I don’t want this power. I don’t want this responsibility.” “You don’t have a choice,” Ukko whispered, smiling. “Do me proud.” “We’re fighting together, aren’t we?” Ukko shook his head, put a hand on Karl’s shoulder, and said, “Goodbye.” The lightning from the wound went up his arm and into Karl, causing static to crackle around the boy. Ukko simply disappeared. Everything around where the boy landed crumbled and turned black. He sat in the middle of it, as thousands of years of decay happened in seconds. “It feels so good. I will be the rot of the world, and I just need to get you out of the way.” The boy charged forward, created the scythe, and struck Karl. Karl put his ax up, slowing it, but it still pierced his flesh and blood flowed. Coldness seeped into him. “No,” Karl said. “I think this is over.” “Ha, over? Hardly.” He struck at Karl over and over, but Karl stopped blocking. Instead, he caused lightning to arc from his body. The arcs were so bright they

dispelled the shadows attacking him so nothing could hit. “The brightest light casts no shadows, and I’m tired of the darkness you and your mom have cast on me.” With that he grabbed the boy and flew him up into the forming clouds. Lightning arched through the sky above Helsinki for hours, and people said they saw two people in the clouds, illuminated.

Chapter Twenty-Four

The boy shot rot at Karl, and Karl deflected it. A knife was created and thrown, sneaking between rounds of lightning. It met Karl’s abdomen, spilling some blood. The wound turned black, like he was inflicted with frostbite. Clouds wrapped around the boy and became dense enough he was restrained. Lightning flowed through him, coming out of his eyes and mouth. When the boy finally squirmed free, he dove into the clouds and disappeared, becoming little more than a dark patch in Karl’s peripheral. “Come out,” Karl called. “When I’m ready.” A cold pain sliced through Karl’s back as the scythe found its mark. He forced lightning to streak through the weapon, destroying it, but he could feel the cold from his back and insides spreading. “You’re in my domain,” Karl said, becoming fully aware of what he became. “Yours is death while mine is the sky.” “Maybe we should get down to the ground, then.” The boy appeared out of nowhere and threw a grappling hook. Karl grabbed it, unwilling to dispel it with the light, and pulled the boy to him. He punched the kid in the gut and tossed him down. The clouds struck up with lightning, forcing his body to remain suspended as he was illuminated. Several dark spears shot out of the kid’s body when the lightning stopped, and Karl was hit in the left arm. More cold spread through him. He shot a bolt so bright the boy couldn’t see for a moment. “I see you’re just as evil as your mom.” “I’m disease incarnate. I’m not human, Karl. All things succumb to me. They succumb to time. We’re just making it so they succumb a little earlier and simultaneously. Why would anyone bring new things into this world to die like that, anyway? We’re doing everyone a favor.” “Life is beautiful and precious. But I guess you’re right. You’re a concept. Not a

person. That makes this easier.” “Easier?” “I’ve been holding back. Hoping you’d come to your senses or submit.” The boy chuckled, holding his stomach with laughter. Cold crept along Karl’s skin, and he knew he didn’t have long before the kid won through attrition. Correction: before the disease won through attrition. “Holding back? Hardly! You’re on the—” The sky filled with lightning, the boy cried out in pain, writhing, and the lightning didn’t stop until the boy seemed to dissolve into ash, the ash falling to the ground. Everything it touched was destroyed, a final testament to the power of death. “Finally.” The clouds cleared up. Ice neared Karl’s heart. “And I can rest.” He closed his eyes and let gravity do the rest.

Chapter Twenty-Five

The world healed over time. People became aware of ancient things on the earth and went to study ideas they couldn’t possibly comprehend. Most of the gods were dead, at least in Finland. Countries around the world were struck with the eight plagues, but they still all bound together to help Finland rebuild from near complete ruin. Pictures circulated of Karl, and people wondered if he was good or bad. Most thought good since he cast down the boy who plagued the world. Others thought him evil for killing a boy. He should have brought the boy around to his senses. No one knew the truth, though. Aside from Karl and Tellervo. “The trees complain, husband.” Tellervo was snuggled in Karl’s arms in front of their hearth, the only stone in the castle. It was built when Karl returned. “I’m sorry. I think I’m nearly healed.” The wounds on his body were gone, but the cold was still there, black patches staining his skin as a reminder. They rescinded a little more with each day. “You do what you must. Aside from chopping them up for warmth, you’ve been a good and noble king.” He smiled down at her. “I’ve had an insightful wife who guides my hand. I’d be lost without you. How is the world getting along?” “Well enough. There is a lot to recover from, but I think they’ll get there.” “They know what happened?” “Prayers for the old ways are starting up again. They know. The world knows.” Karl fidgeted at the thought. “Do you think there are others?” “Others?” she asked, innocently. “Finland isn’t the only land with myths.”

“Oh.” Her eyes went wide with alarm. “I don’t know. I haven’t heard of most of the others unless they’re around here. Asgard is a wonderful place.” “Wait, what?” “Yes, of course. The Norse gods? We work with them.” It opened up a great deal of thoughts and fears within Karl. The world became much bigger and far more dangerous. “I’ll protect Finland for the time.” “It’s all anyone asks.”

Excerpt from The Story of the Drowning Sands of G’desh by Paul R. Davis:

Sultan Bazeer had gold threads spun into his tunic and turban. Rings of gold and silver, studded with emeralds, rubies, amethysts, and sapphires adorned his fingers. The man's stomach was as robust as his laughter, gut jiggling as he whooped. Men and women of poetic beauty surrounded him, with large brown eyes and moon-touched skin. Surrounding the merrymakers, armed guards kept an eye on the crowd, watching for the glint of metal or the malicious vial of an alchemist’s conjuring. They wore iron armor with the gold emblem of Sultan Bazeer on the chest. His sigil was three coins on one side of a scale, weighing more than a heart on the other pan. Each guard had a spotless white cloak wrapped around his shoulders. Azasheer walked alongside them, blending into the crowd of wealthy, perfumed patrons. Anyone with noteworthy coin frequented the opulent Gilded Bazaar, as new ships arrived from the gem mines across Lake G’desh. Bracelets, necklaces, and other trinkets of great expense and little use filled the stalls. Hawkers shouted beautiful poems composed on the spot for elegant men and gorgeous women. Most of the poems were more emotionally binding than one could find from a practiced bard. Azasheer preferred to kill Bazeer in the Gold Keep where he slept. In most cases, Azasheer would climb up into a window, slip into the target's bedroom, and apply poison or blade per the client’s request. Sometimes he would use fire to consume the flesh, turning the entire chamber into ash. However, the Gold Keep had walls just a bit too high and archers with eagle eyes. It would have been possible to pierce the defenses and make the kill, but it would have taken as much luck as skill, and Azasheer did not want the risk, nor was the gamble requested of him. He desired certainty, and the chaos of the Gilded Bazaar guaranteed a clean kill. Throngs of people moved through the market, making their way between guards. Little stopped the surge, and Azasheer found it easy to get lost in the river of bodies flowing toward his target. He watched as the Sultan handed out gifts to women with full-cheeked faces. His hands wandered, touching the fleshy goods of women already married. The gaudy Sultan's wealth would be missed, but the man would not be.

A guard grabbed Azasheer's arm. "No blackamoors in the Gilded." The assassin kept his head low, bowing. "My apologies, sir. I am from another land, where the egromancers are respected." "Get moving and shut up," sneered the guard. It was too late for the guard, though, as he paused a few moments too long. Azasheer flicked his wrist, and crimson splashed across gray bolts of fabric on a table nearby. The guard slumped, and Azasheer eased him to the ground, off to the side. Those who watched were reassured by Azasheer. "He drank too much. Wealth so abundant even the guards get drunk." A twinkle touched his eye, and he laughed. The wealthy nobles laughed alongside him, and the assassin slipped between bodies until he slipped in through the gap left by the dead guard. Azasheer found himself right behind Bazeer. The deep laughter of the Sultan cut through the market cacophony, even drowning out the hawkers shouting out their wares. In a moment, Azasheer embraced the Sultan, whispered, "The Eternal is a gutting candle," and the noise of the market swelled up and over the Sultan's coughs. Blood soaked into his extravagant garments and dripped down his lips and chin. A wave of silence overtook the crowd when they realized the swollen Sultan no longer bellowed. They searched for the excess he thoughtlessly handed out, his unparalleled jubilance. When the first woman found his body sprawled on the ground, blood staining his tunic, she screamed. The silence following the scream made Azasheer’s ears ring, but soon women wailed, and men shrieked for justice. Guards worked over the crowd, questioning, detaining, and killing indiscriminately. But Azasheer was far away, never turning to see the ripples of chaos overtake the Gilded Bazaar. Bells rang through the city-state of Fah Tashekesh. Azasheer put up his cowl and slipped through to the Scale District.

Enjoy this excerpt from Elven Games: Destiny Defined Book 1 by Stephanie Ayers:

Tribba cupped the confetti in her palms and separated it enough to let it flow from her hand when the wind blew. It reminded her of fairy dust. It had been a while since she had seen a fairy. Perhaps she could summon one now that could be of help to Edgar as he prepared. The Games were still two days away, and Tribba had to it Edgar was nowhere close to being ready. She looked wistfully around her. Her humble home stood behind her, the flowers bright and cheery in the sun. Their livestock grazed in a small pasture just behind the house. The stream danced with the sun and carried some of the confetti away. She smiled. She would miss this, but it would be nice to be a part of the city eventually, too. Willowglen and its large population would always be home to her. She missed the fellowship of other dwarves. The elves in that hideous castle had taken more than the travelers away. They had also taken her friends. No one wanted to the castle. No one wanted “infection” from the elven magick there. Dwarves hated their magick. Never mind that all magick worked the same. The elves were better at it than anyone else on the earth, save the fairies, and the dwarves did not like that at all. “I’m ready,” Edgar called, breaking Tribba’s reverie. He held his hands out, and Tribba filled them with confetti. “Now, make it fly,” she commanded. It wasn’t a magick trick, but she wanted him to believe it was. If she could break whatever curse he was born under, he would gain more confidence and improve his chances of winning. Edgar muttered some words then opened his hands. Confetti went nowhere. He closed his hands again, repeated his mutterings, and opened his hands again. A breeze blew through, sending a little bit of the confetti flying. Edgar smiled. “I didn’t do that, but it sure is pretty.” “The wind is your friend, Edgar. Use it as you will. It made magick in making the confetti fly,” Tribba said. “The wind obeys no one, Tribba, but at least she played with me today. There is hope.” Tribba looked at Edgar. His complexion seemed lighter.

“I have an idea. Let’s lock up the cottage and take a stroll in the woods. I need to talk to a small friend or two.” The path through the woods was narrow but that didn’t bother Edgar. Tribba, a short and stout dwarf, managed well enough, and the scenery was stunningly beautiful. Birds of all colors flitted from the emerald green tapestry. A peridot green carpet lay on one side of the path, covered with a thin coat of dried leaves from last autumn. The wood grew noisier the farther they walked. He heard magpies crying, nightingales singing, and the call of the hawk as it soared overhead. Fleeting glimpses of red fawns appeared here and there, and a group of young bucks drinking at the silver stream on the other side of the path stole his breath. They lifted their heads in unison as he gasped and eyed him curiously before continuing their drink and dashing back into the woods behind them. “It is so peaceful here,” Edgar said. “Yes,” Tribba answered. “The fairies protect it.” The path suddenly curved away from the stream, leading farther into the woods. The trees clustered closer together, but the light filtered in despite the rich, leafy canopy. Squirrels ran up and down the tree trunks, chattering constantly as they ed. Tribba answered them occasionally, and it amazed Edgar every time he saw one scamper away as if it understood. “You can talk to squirrels?” “Well, it’s like talking to a baby. I just repeat the sounds they make. They seem to like it.” Edgar smiled. “Every moment I spend with you makes me question why you need a champion at all! With your home and land at stake, you are more than able to do this challenge on your own!” “Tsk.” Tribba said. “No, I am no match for those elves. I have no athletic skill. I’m not a druid. I’ve never practiced the arts. I have nothing to offer in a game. But, you, Edgar, you are everything I am not. I believe in you.” They stopped walking. They stood in a circular opening with trees surrounding them. Grass as tall as Edgar’s knees almost swallowed Tribba whole. Only her chest and head stood above the blades. Edgar turned slowly to take in his

surroundings. Tribba hastily patted him. “What?” he asked. “Even though these woods seem peaceful now, at night it’s a hazardous place to be. Not even the fairies can help you at night when the werewolves run the woods.” Her face was serious as she talked, and Edgar shuddered. “This is where I wanted to bring you.” Tribba pointed to a small patch of flowers in the center of the circle. The grass thinned until it faded into yellow daffodils and blue crocuses. Tribba laid down, her back facing the sky and instructed Edgar to do the same. “Look!” She whispered. His eyes followed her pointing finger. A smile creased his face as he saw the fae. Their little bodies danced lithely. A soft buttery glow surrounded them. They, like the flowers, were clothed in the rich colors of the rainbow. Their hair flowed upward, adding height, in the same shade as their clothing. Tiny voices tinkling like bells emerged from the bed. Tribba slid her eyes in Edgar’s direction before stretching one hand into the bed. The fairies stopped dancing and disappeared within toadstools Edgar had not seen the first time. “Syra!” Tribba called. “Malachi! Come forth!” Two little fairies peeked from their mushrooms. Tribba smiled in greeting, and they emerged eagerly into the bed. “Ah, my friends, it’s been a while, eh?” Tribba said. She stretched her hand out, and both fae climbed aboard. Tribba stood, and Edgar got a closer look. A ruby clad arm extended, and a little finger pointed at Edgar. “This is Edgar. I’m challenging the elves, and he is my champion.” Two little bodies eyed the slender frame of a boy in front of them and doubled over laughing on Tribba’s palm. Sapphire blue wisps of magick filled the air as Malachi made a grand gesture of wiping tears from his eyes. “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he said. The ruby fairy’s wings fluttered as she rose to Edgar’s nose and patted him gently on it. “He is more than he looks, but he needs help. That’s why I’m here.” Tribba told

them. Tribba and Edgar explained the story of Edgar’s lost magick. The fairies looked at each other and laughed again, as if the idea of losing magick was preposterous. Malachi tinkled loudly. “Only a human could lose their magick,” he said. He doubled over in laughter again. “Especially this one.” Syra agreed. “He is the puniest human I’ve ever seen.” Syra flipped in her mirth. “If he ever had magick, why didn’t he conjure up some muscles?” Edgar frowned. “Tsk. Stop. You two should know better. Humans aren’t lesser, just... different.” Tribba chastised both fairies. “Now, will you help us or not?” They laughed again but agreed to help as much as they could. Tiny crystals filled the air, and a small pouch appeared in Tribba’s other hand. She opened it and scooped up as many dust particles as she could before pulling the drawstring closed. She held it out to Edgar, who accepted it. “Fairy dust...” she said as he put the pouch around his neck. “It will help your magic. No one has greater magick than the fairies, not even the elves.” Tribba chatted with the fairies for a little longer before releasing them back into the flowerbed. Glitter decorated each cheek when she rose, and she laughed. “There’s nothing in this world like fairy kisses,” she said. She read the skepticism on Edgar’s face and continued. “I know they gave you a hard time, but that’s just their nature. They are very amenable creatures. You don’t know what you’re missing until you experience a fairy kiss, so don’t fret. It’s unbecoming of a champion.” A sharp crack shook the forest, and Tribba looked at the sky. Grey clouds rolled in and hid the sun. Lightning flashed between two tall trees. “We must hurry! We don’t want to be stuck in these woods without sunlight!” Confusion laced his brows together, but Edgar followed Tribba without question.

A howl sounded from somewhere behind him, sharp and shrill. Goosebumps covered his flesh, and the hair all over his body stood at attention.

About the Author: Stephanie Ayers

Acreative ninja with a dark mind and a quirky nature, Stephanie Ayers writes all the words and spins twisted tales filled with horror, fantasy, suspense, and anything in between. With a trunk full of tricks thanks to a checkered past, she haunts Irish castles and snowy mountaintops in her dreams while living the unicorn life in Ohio disguised as a human. When she isn’t listening to the voices in her head, she spends her days as a mom, Gigi, cat lover, and Netflix binger, while avoiding housework at all costs. Her debut novella, Til Death Do Us Part, was published in 2013, and her work appears in several anthologies and collections. Along with many solo works, she currently has two serials to her name, the stand-alone horror volumes of The 13 series, and her epic 5 book fantasy series, Destiny Defined. To find out more about Stephanie's daily living and all about her books and writing, subscribe to her newsletter: https://www.subscribepage.com/o6e0l9 or follow her on social media: https://linktr.ee/stephanieayers

More Books by Stephanie Ayers:

Into Thin Air A Sudden Flutter of Wings: a horror novel Til Death Do Us Part

The Destiny Defined Series

Elven Games Catching Dragons Charades Magick Revived Kingdom Come

The 13 Series

The 13: Tales of Illusory The 13: Tales of Macabre The 13: Surreal Tales The 13: Scelestic Tales

The Shop Series

Cronuts in the City: A Donut Shop novella Bleu Pops & Razzlebaums: A Soda Shop novella Gertie’s Garden: A Pet Shop novella

About the Author: Paul R. Davis

Paul grew up in the Milwaukee area, and started life with a love of the creative. Writing fan fictions in elementary school, he got into cringe worthy science fiction during high school. He honed the craft at Lakeland University where he attempted a bachelor’s in creative Writing, and instead double majored in Secondary Education and English. He taught middle school English, where he went through NaNoWriMo with his students. Some still write as a hobby to this day. From there, he finished his debut novel, Drowning in the Sands of G’desh, and now has five books out in that series. Project Volden and Off Brand Writing are his two writing brands, where he works on projects dear to his heart, and some that are a ing fancy, a springtime fling which he releases into the world for any to read.

More books by Paul R. Davis:

The Story of the Drowning Sands of G’desh The Song of Hetja Melna Ghost Monkey Straw Hat War of Chaos 3 Rats of Washington (A Statesmen series novella)

COPYRIGHT © 2021 BY Crazy Ink All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission. Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.