Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
She had the distinct feeling he could make her do anything he wanted.
Again, a lightning strike of fear, something telling her that maybe she should turn around and run.
But before she could, she felt herself reaching for the bell again and giving it a ring. The sound was so loud and jarring, it made her teeth clack together. Then, everything flipped around, like she was trapped on a negative of film passing through a shutter, and when she blinked, she found herself on the boat.
“The more you fight it, the harder it will get,” Tuonen said from behind her.
She whirled around, though it felt like her body was moving underwater, and spotted him at the back of the boat. He was sitting casually, one leg up, leaning against the knee and eating an apple. Something about eating an apple always struck Aven as the epitome of casual, and here, she especially didn’t trust it. It was like Tuonen was wanting her to let her guard down.
Then again, she got on the boat somehow, and she didn’t think it was of her own accord. Her guard was down already.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked, noticing that the boat was moving fast enough through the black water that a cold wind was blowing back her hair. There was nothing but mist for as far as she could see, though snowflakes were starting to fall from above, adding to the haze.
“To the City of Death,” Tuonen said before swallowing. “Where the Magician will tell you where in the city you will spend your afterlife.”
“A magician?” she asked. “You’re the Son of Death and you don’t even know?”
“I’m afraid I know nothing about you, not even your name.”
Don’t tell him. Giving him your name will give him more power, she thought.
But still, her lips were moving.
“It’s Aven.”
I’m in serious trouble, Tuonen thought. Despite everything he was doing to play it cool, he was one hundred percent enamored with this woman.
“Aven,” he repeated, letting her name sink in richly, like chocolate on the tongue. She had a name, a powerful one at that. He didn’t always know the names of the dead he was transporting—most of the time, he didn’t care to ask—but he knew her name meant something to him. What, he had no idea. And why he was so smitten with her already, he didn’t know. After all, he had seen millions of beautiful humans cross his path into the afterlife, and none of them had any hold on him the way Aven seemed to.
Ridiculous, he thought to himself. She doesn’t even look all that special.
But while he finished his apple, staring at her, trying to find flaws, he couldn’t. Back in the Upper World, she would have been considered pretty. Beautiful, even. Her features were large—brilliant blue doe eyes, a wide full mouth, strong nose, round jaw, high forehead—but put together, they made him think of ancient goddesses that past worlds would paint: a memorable, commanding face. Her shiny dark hair fell around her shoulders, and she was wearing sneakers and a navy-blue dress littered with snowflakes as the boat glided toward the Frozen Void. Though her skin was as pale as milk, he surmised it was probably summer back where she was from, and he was grateful for it, since her body was exquisite.
“Where are we?” she asked, breaking eye contact with him to look around. Damn. It was like he was spellbound.
“Tuonela,” he said. “The Land of the Dead.”
“Tuonela?” she said, looking puzzled. Then, she looked to him with raised brows. “You mean in Finnish mythology?”
He shrugged. “Many call it that, but it is not myth. It is fact.” He paused. “Most people haven’t heard of this mythology, though. It’s always about Hades and the Greeks…”
“I studied it in school,” she said, and a look of awareness came over her face as she remembered. “Yes, I went to university. In London. I went to Queen Mary.”
Tuonen frowned. When people first died, they remembered bits and pieces of their previous life, but as the journey progressed into the Underworld, they quickly forgot. When they reunited with their loved ones (though that wasn’t always the case, depending on which part of the city their loved ones were in), they knew who they were, recognizing their soul and spirit, but the mundane details of life slipped away.
It was strange that Aven still remembered. The resistance she had to being dead was stronger than Tuonen thought.
“You lived in London?” Tuonen asked. He knew he shouldn’t, was already cursing himself for doing so. He wanted her to forget, not remember.
“Live,” she corrected him, taking a seat on a bench. “I still live there.”
Tuonen smirked at her stubbornness. He waved his hand at the snowy banks of the shore as they came into view. “And this? What do you make of this? If you still live in London, how are you here?”