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)
Hanna laughs but doesn’t say anything. She quickly reaches for some flaps on the roof and lifts a section between us before she nods at a small door that my knees are pressed up against. “Can you open that and see if you find any keys? You can move the seat back by the levers underneath.”
I reach down until my fingers grasp metal rods, and I push and pull at them until my seat slides backward with a loud clack. It gives me just enough room to open the small door and rummage around.
“Only papers, no keys. Wait.” I grab something small and pull it out. It’s shiny, flat, and thin, and I proudly display it to her. “I have it. The key!”
“That’s a stick of gum,” she says with a sigh. “Fuck, maybe I have to break into his house after all.”
I peer at the stick of gum. Ah, I see now—the metal part is just paper that peels off. I’d seen people eat gum in the movies, so I take the green, flexible material out of the silver paper and pop it in my mouth and swallow it. It doesn’t go down very easily, and the mint flavor is barely detectable. Quite disappointing.
“Tuoni,” Hanna chides me. “You’re supposed to chew gum, not eat it.”
“Not eat it…ever? What is the point of it then?”
She thinks that over, tucking her hair behind her ear. “You know what? I have no idea.”
She shivers, and I realize that perhaps I can do more to fix this situation than I thought. Magic works in Tuonela. Perhaps magic works in the Upper World too.
I place my hands on the steering wheel and start chanting an old spell about making things work again, mixed in with an adage about bringing things to life.
Then, the car does come to life with a sudden roar that shakes us in our seats.
“You did it!” Hanna cries out. “You started the car!”
“Of course,” I say with a rise of my chin. “I’m a god.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m going to be hearing a lot of this, aren’t I?” Then, she grins, a slightly maniacal look that makes me a little worried. “Let’s go.”
Chapter 9
Death
The Pawn
Hanna suddenly starts jerking levers around, and Volvo starts moving backward, sliding on snow as it goes. I place my palm on the roof of the vehicle to keep myself from knocking into Hanna as she’s driving.
Once the back wheels hit the main road, she spins the wheel, and the automobile straightens out as it roars again, louder this time, heading down the road and away from the house.
“How do you know which way to go?” I ask.
“I don’t,” she says, adjusting her grip on the wheel. “I just remember the car from earlier was coming from this direction. It could have been heading nowhere, but you’re always coming from somewhere.”
“That’s poetic,” I remark.
She laughs. “Don’t sound so impressed. If I’m not careful, I’ll drive us both into the ditch. I’ve never driven in winter conditions before. Maybe you should put your seatbelt on.”
“You afraid I might die?” I question.
“Good point,” she says while she reaches over and clicks in her belt. “But Goddess of Death or not, I’m not taking any chances. Now I just have to keep this car going fast enough so we leave plenty of time between us and that man discovering his car is gone. Once he does, things won’t be so easy.”
She reaches over, fiddles with some knobs on a console, and hot air comes out. “Heat works, so at least we won’t freeze to death, no pun intended. And there’s almost a full tank of gas. Can you take a look in the back and see if there are any blankets or clothes? He might have an emergency kit; I would assume you would in this area.”
I twist in my seat to look in the back. The three swords are lying on the backseat, but beneath them seems to be a finely woven bag with handles. I pick it up and bring it to my lap, trying not to look at the road as the vehicle weaves back and forth.
Inside the bag, I find a puffy red coat, some thick socks, bottles of frozen water, some sort of sustenance in the shape of bars, a black knit cap and gloves, plus a few other strange plastic items.
“There’s a coat, socks, hat and gloves,” I tell her. “I don’t know what the rest is. Do you want them now?”
She shakes her head but doesn’t take her eyes off the road. “I’m warming up. What about you?”
“Do you think anything would fit me? I am starting to think you don’t have God-sized people in your world.”
“Only a few,” she says with a small smile. “If this was LA, I could get you The Rock’s tailor.”