I keep making excuses as I go, but by the time he’s gotten twenty-five right in a row, I have to give up.
I concede.
Rasmus can apparently read my mind.
I take that fact and put it in the mental file folder that contains the information that my father was a shaman, that I saw my father in the casket who then transformed into Rasmus, that Noora and Eero tried to attack me, that my father painted a frozen waterfall with a message to not come after him, that I ended up going behind that waterfall and ended up in a tunnel that led to a land of mist, that I’ve seen my share of living dead animals, that there’s a young deer woman with a giant sword at her hip and dressed in nothing but a gold dress wielding this iron boat down an ink black river who is pointing out the local wildlife like she’s Steve Irwin’s apprentice.
And that the point of all of this, is that we’re supposed to go to the City of Death and find my father.
I’m starting to get the very disturbing feeling that this might be fucking real.
Suddenly the boat slows and I look behind me to see Lovia holding her oar straight in the water, bringing us to a stop.
“Don’t worry,” she says, catching my gaze. “Routine stop. It’s just the gatekeepers. The swans of Tuonela. We have to pass through them and then we’re onto the Great Inland Sea.”
“Oh fuck,” Rasmus mutters under his breath.
My eyes go wide. Oh fuck? Rasmus is saying oh fuck?
Lovia walks along the deck past us to the bow. “Well hello there,” she says to someone, her attention focused on the river. “I haven’t seen you in a long time. Checking up on me?” There’s a bitter tone to her voice.
Rasmus! I yell at him in my head. Why did you say oh fuck? What are the gatekeepers? Are they actually swans?
Suddenly there’s a flapping sound and even Lovia shrieks as two swans fly onto the boat, one black, one white, coming up each side of the ship.
They aren’t your average swans, I know that much. They’re about the size of a small pony and they’re focused on the two of us with beady dark eyes. I immediately know they’re sentient and it’s the most disconcerting feeling in the world.
“What do they want?” Rasmus asks Lovia as the swans start walking toward us, their webbed feet shaking the deck as they come. Despite playing the lead in Swan Lake, I’ve had a healthy fear of these birds all my life. They’re nasty, and these ones have beaks that could bite my hand clean off.
“They’re just checking to see if you’re really dead,” Lovia says in an irritated voice. “They’ve been around since the Old Gods, back when this place was Kaaos. Or in your words, Hell.”
The white swan stops right in front of me, while the black swan stops in front of Rasmus. They both stare at us, and when I mean stare at us, I mean I can feel them poking around inside my head, inside my very soul.
Suddenly the white one opens its mouth at me, showcasing a long skinny tongue and a row of razor-sharp shark’s teeth and starts screaming like a fucking banshee, this awful voice that’s both human and not.
“No!” Lovia yells above the swan’s scream. “No, they’re dead! They wouldn’t lie to me!”
Now the black swan is screaming in unison, the awful, chilling sounds filling the air and Lovia is violently shaking her head. “No,” she says. “They’re dead.” She looks to me and Rasmus. “You’re dead right? Please tell me you’re dead.”
Rasmus has been keeping his eye on the swan but the moment he looks up and meets Lovia’s eyes, her face falls in disappointment. Well, for a second anyway. Then it quickly morphs into anger.
“You guys lied? You lied?! Well, fuck you both,” Lovia snarls at us, pulling out her sword. “Have at them then.”
The swans come for us at once, teeth snapping, wings flapping.
There’s no time to think.
As the white swan leaps at me, I jump up on the bench then dive over its head, just clearing its outstretched beak in a move that never would have been possible before, no matter how much training I had. Before I can mull that over though, my body keeps going, and I summersault across the deck in time to see Lovia swinging her sword at me. I duck and dive out of the way of the sword as it hits the iron deck with a clank, then push up with my hands so that my boots connect with Lovia’s stomach. I watch in amazement as I kick Lovia right off the side of the boat, the giant sword clattering to the deck, her body hitting the water with a splash.
“Hanna, behind you!” Rasmus screams.