River of Shadows (Underworld Gods #1)(30)

“No. Another shaman.”

All this time I’m talking to Telly, I’ve been thinking that Rasmus is off taking a shit in the woods and will be back soon, but there’s a creeping, hollow feeling in my chest that says he might actually be in trouble.

“I’m sorry,” I say to her as I notice her stuff the Cliff bar into a satchel made of moss attached to her hip, “but did you say the trees told you he was in trouble?”

She nods. “The birch have eyes to see and mouths to whisper.” She clears her throat, a flush appearing on her cheeks. “But of course being a Goddess of the Forest helps.”

“We’ve already met Vellamo,” I tell her, and her eyes brighten appreciatively. “She said that if we ever needed help, Rasmus would summon your father…Tapio, was it?”

“Yes, Tapio. My father might have heard him, he might not. But I was out in the aspen grove when the trees said to come here. So I’m afraid this might be the best you can get. Do you want me to help you find him?”

I look around the campsite. Everything looks as it did last night, though the flame ferns have burned down to nothing. It seems like he’s coming right back and I know the best thing to do in these situations is just to stay put (I got lost in LAX when I was eight and that’s all I remember from the ordeal).

“What do you think?” I ask her.

“About what?” She looks puzzled.

“What I should do?

“I guess it helps to know your name.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I say, feeling flustered. I don’t feel appropriate shaking the hand of a Goddess, so I do a half bow, half curtsey thing that’s totally awkward. “I’m Hanna.”

And Telly does the awkward curtsey bow right back to me in earnest. “Pleased to meet you. So you want to know where your supposed friend Rasmus is and you’re not sure whether to go find him or stay where you are?”

I nod.

She taps her delicate fingers against her chin in thought. “Hmmm. Well, if you were another Goddess, I would tell you not to worry because no matter what he’s probably fine. But since you’re mortal and he’s mortal, and the trees told me he was in trouble, well, I’m definitely going to set out after him. If you choose to, that’s up to you.”

I don’t even have to think. I grab the backpack and swing it on, then pick up the sword and give Telly a determined nod. “Lead the way.”

Telly takes me through the forest, past the cedar grove where I collected the flame ferns, through mossy glens of red berries and bushes of purple and blue hydrangeas, along rows of tall pine trees whose trunks resemble iron, and where vibrant orange poppies grow in the underbrush.

At some point I let her know that Vellamo said we shouldn’t stray far from the river, but Telly pays me no mind and keeps going.

Finally she comes to a stop in an old growth forest, where a babbling brook runs beneath the relics of dead cedars, the trunks split open and charred like they’ve all been decimated by lightning.

“You get any big storms here?” I whisper to her as she looks around. Whispering seems appropriate in this place.

Her expressive face looks incredulous. “Yes. Depending on Death’s mood.”

“What do you mean?”

“You didn’t know his moods control the weather in Tuonela?” she asks so solemnly that I feel like a real idiot.

I decide to embrace my mortal idiot status. “I did not. In fact, I don’t know much.”

She looks me up and down with those innocent eyes. “I can see that,” she says, but it’s hard to take offense. She starts walking again and I’m right behind her, the dead forest giving me the creeps.

“That’s why it’s always cloudy,” she goes on. “Because he’s always in a foul mood. The only time the sky clears is when he’s either happy, which is never, when he’s drunk, which is sometimes, or when he’s asleep. Hence why you can usually see the moon and stars and planets at night. There are a few times each year where we’ll get a few days of sunshine and clear nights in a row, but my father says that’s when Death is on a bender. I believe that’s a mortal term that means drinking alcohol for too many days in a row and acting foolish.”

“Sounds lovely,” I mumble.

“Who? Death or my father?”

“I was being sarcastic,” I quickly point out. “About Death. I’m sure your father truly is a lovely man. Um, I mean God.”

She shoots me a charming smile over her shoulder. “Thank you. He is. And your father must be too, if you’re going after him. I would do the same.” She pauses. “And Death, well, everyone has an opinion about him. He does rule this land after all, and the other Gods don’t always agree with him. But I think he’s just misunderstood.”

My brows go up. “You think Death is misunderstood?”

She nods. “Yes. He’s just doing his job. And to hear my father talk about it, things were much worse here before Death came along. People had died, of course, but there was no proper afterlife. They called it Kaaos. There was no justice, no rhyme or reason to anything, just pain.” She shivers, her red hair rippling down her back. “The Old Gods just wanted the mortals to suffer.”

Telly suddenly stops and I nearly run into her back. She slowly holds her finger to her lips and holds still. I do the same, trying not to breathe, listening.