“I want to see them,” I said, surprised by the longing that swelled up in my heart. “I want to visit there.”
Kipa glanced down at me, smiling. “We will, my love. We will.” He leaned down to kiss me, his lips cool from the chill of the air. “But for now, let’s find Väinämöinen and get you that spell. If he’s willing. He’s generally in a good mood, but I can’t vouch how he’s currently feeling.”
“We’ll never know unless we give it a try,” I said. “Lead on.”
He held out his hands. “Best we travel linked, just in case.”
I didn’t want to ask what the “just in case” might entail, so I took his right hand and Phasmoria took his left hand. We approached the portal and the closer we got, the more my hair felt like it was standing on end. Then, taking a deep breath, Kipa counted to three and we stepped through the blurred lines of blue and white that crossed the space between the trees.
Chapter Sixteen
As I stepped out of the portal, I was gripping Kipa’s hand tighter than ever. The energy had sent my hair all cattywampus and it felt like every nerve in my body had been tickled, teased, or singed. I wasn’t sure whether it had been pleasant or I never wanted to experience that feeling again.
“That…was different,” I said.
Kipa laughed. “I warned you. You two okay?”
I tried to shake off the feeling of cobwebs attached to my body. “Yeah, I’m all right. Mom?”
Phasmoria snorted. “I’m fine, but yes, that was unexpected.”
I glanced around. We were still in deep snow, but we were now inside of a forest, off of what looked like a main road. The road was also covered with snow but it passed through the trees, carving a trail that looked well used. In fact, I thought I could hear music from up ahead.
“Do I hear…music?” I asked, not sure if my ears were still ringing from the portal.
“You do. There’s an inn up ahead, and they get quite a good clientele coming through.”
I wasn’t sure why that surprised me so much. There were inns in Annwn, but somehow, Kalevala had seemed much more remote and less populated.
“I’m looking forward to a good fire, if they have one,” Phasmoria said. “Will we be stopping there?”
“That’s where we’re headed. You didn’t think we’d find Väinämöinen sitting under a tree, butt in the snow, did you?”
I blushed, grateful he couldn’t see me. I had thought exactly that. Or that he’d be in a cave, hiding out with the crystals. No wait, that was the Merlin.
But my mother was the one to say it. “He’s part of the Force Majeure. I wouldn’t be surprised to see him trying to walk on lava on the floor of a caldera.”
I snorted. “What she said.”
Kipa laughed. “You two take the cake. But…I know what you mean. The Force Majeure scare the hell out of me. They’re so far beyond their roots that sometimes the gods seem closer to human and Fae-kind than the Force Majeure do.” He pointed toward a bend in the road about thirty yards away. “The inn is right around the corner. Let’s go.”
As we started along the path, the music grew louder, and I felt my stomach shift. Meeting one of the Force Majeure—for a witch, any kind of witch—was like meeting a god for most people. I hoped I wouldn’t make a fool of myself in front of Väinämöinen.
The name of the inn was Cloudberry Inn. I knew that cloudberries were found in Finland, so that made sense. The three-story inn was built of stone, and windows overlooked the front. There were lights from within, and also shining out from some of the smaller windows on the upper floors. Even from here, I could smell baking bread and some sort of stew, and the music was lively and made me want to tap my foot.
Kipa opened the door, then stood back to usher us in. My mother went first, and the moment she stepped into the room, the music paused. I followed her, and then Kipa brought up the rear. All eyes were on us as we stood by the door.
The inn was spacious, and a long polished hardwood counter ran in front of the bar. Bottles of booze lined the shelves behind the bar. Three long tables with benches on either side filled the dining area, and each table looked capable of seating sixteen people total. To the right there was an archway into what looked like a kitchen. The delicious smells were wafting from there. Against the back right wall, behind the bar, a staircase led to the upper floors.
To the left was an open area with a group of musicians sitting there, with their long-handled stringed instruments and two wooden drums. The instruments were ornate, intricately carved. The men manning them were gorgeous, with long brown hair and swarthy skin and eyes so black they looked like rich soil. They were dressed in blue tunics and brown trousers, and as for their ages—they could have been thirty or sixty.
The man behind the counter was a beefy man, with muscles on his muscles. He was bald, his head shining. But for as menacing as he could have looked, his eyes twinkled and a smile creased his face.
He caught sight of Kipa and rounded the corner of the bar as Kipa stepped up to meet him. The men clasped hands, then hugged, and Kipa said something I didn’t understand. The man turned to us. He said something else and I felt a shift—whatever it was had been an incantation.
“Well met, Lady,” he said, bowing to my mother. “We are graced to have a Daughter of the Morrígan in our presence.”
My mother seemed to be caught off guard for the moment, but then she laughed and said, “Well met to you, as well. I’m afraid I don’t know your name.”
“Kipa, introduce us, you wolf, you.” The barkeep arched his eyebrows. “Such a lack of manners with this one, always.”
Kipa laughed. “Bear, you need to stop bemoaning my lack of social graces. You do this every time we meet.” He held out his hand to me. “Bear, I’d like you to meet my mate, Raven BoneTalker. She’s one of the Ante-Fae. Raven, this is Bear, my cousin.”
Startled, I turned to him. “You’re related to Kipa? Then, you’re a—”
Bear nodded. “Yes, I’m a god. What you might call a minor god. My given name is far longer than I care to use, so you may call me Bear. You are a lovely woman, and I can tell your spirit has a good, sharp edge to it. Well met, Lady Raven.”
“Phasmoria is Raven’s mother,” Kipa said.
It was Bear’s turn to look surprised. He glanced from Phasmoria to me. “I can see the resemblance. Then you are not following your mother’s path?”
I shook my head. “No, I’m not born to be one of the Bean Sidhe. I’m a bone witch.”
“Ah, a speaker for the dead. You come from a revered tradition.” Bear paused, then pointed to the table that was empty. The other one had eight travelers gathered around it, and they were all eating and drinking. The music started up again, softer, but as beautiful and haunting as it had been before.
“Sit, take your weight off your feet. I’ll call for food and drink—and don’t even bother protesting. Even a short jaunt through the realm of ice will leave you out of energy.” Bear motioned to a woman I had assumed to be a serving maid. “Food, drink, plenty of it and quickly, girl.”