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“Tonight we feast on bird,” she stated.

“This isn’t a Kainu camp,” Rika replied, changing the subject abruptly.

“Maybe Turian, they’ve left in a hurry. Look, there’s an intact clay pot, we can boil the meat.”

“And there’s a pile of rocks, where we can make fire for cooking and to warm the night.”

“And in the morning I will go. You can make it to our tribe from here by yourself.”

“Wouldn’t you come just a bit further?”

Vierra looked at the sky: in the western horizon, over the sunset, a large front of clouds was forming. Like a grim salute from winter it engulfed the sun, and they felt the air turn colder.

“Can you make the fire? There seems to be firewood there. I’ll go collect twigs, because it looks like we’ll need shelter very soon.”

They did their chores promptly, looking at the approaching clouds now and then. The evening had darkened toward the night by the time they had built a makeshift shelter out of the twigs and wood that had lay around the clearing. They built it as close to the crude fireplace as possible, where a joyful fire already flared in the center of the big rocks. Vierra cleaned the birds and plucked most of the feathers before placing the prey in the pot. They mixed water with plants and herbs that they’d gathered from the forest to flavor the stew.

The birds were cooked, and the women ate with a good appetite. In the meantime, the curtain of clouds had covered the whole sky and when the sun set, darkness descended over their campfire. It didn’t rain though, only a few drips here and there, and the women were able to do their chores by the fire in peace.

“I brought you something from the forest that you can take to Eera as a gift, when you go back to the tribe.”

Vierra took out many white-stemmed mushrooms with red caps bearing white flecks which she apparently picked in between her chores.

“Take them away,” Rika yelled angrily. Vierra looked at her, astonished.

“What’s wrong? The snake mushroom, the mushroom of the witch.”

Like a stream in spring time which breaks the ice, Rika finally started her lament.

“I’m not a witch, and I can’t take mushrooms to Eera, because Eera is dead. She died after midsummer, during the heat. She died and couldn’t even begin her last journey. And I haven’t been chosen. The spirits haven’t accepted me, and I’ve made no journeys. Not after I fooled around as a child and wanted to talk to the spirits, like Eera.”

Rika shuddered and twisted her hands, as tears flowed down her cheeks. Vierra didn’t dare to interrupt the flood of words.

“Everything would have been fine if I hadn’t given you the necklace. Without it I couldn’t do the witches’ journey and Eera was angry that she could not go on her last. She relented in time and we waited for you to return from war, with the necklace. But Kaira came alone and didn’t want to say anything about what had happened. The only thing we got out of him was that Aure had died and you were to blame. I started on a new necklace, but you need so many bones to make one.”

Rika took a vehement breath in order to continue.

“Eera got sick, and the plant spirits wouldn’t help. She wanted me to do the witches’ journey without a necklace, but I didn’t dare.” Rika was torn by unrestrained weeping, and for a moment she couldn’t speak.

“We argued and I ran away. I wish I’d listened to her. The next time I saw her, she was on her deathbed and we had no witch to hurry her journey.”

Vierra didn’t answer. Over the wind and crackling of fire, only Rika’s now tepid sobbing could be heard.

“I’m no comforter, you know that. I couldn’t return even if I wanted to. How on earth did you end up as those men’s prisoner? I returned alone to give you the necklace, and caught one of our tribe members. From her I heard that you had wandered away, and I came after you.”

“I left. I thought it was all the same if I died in the forest. A red-haired apprentice of a witch, who’s not a witch and can’t hunt. There’s no use for me. Then I stumbled upon those four men on the riverside, who were sitting by a fire near their boat. They drank beer and had food and...” Rika swallowed for a moment before continuing. “They promised to take me with them. But then they tied me up and told me I was to be sold as a slave to the Vikings.”

The red color of shame rose to Rika’s face; to be fooled like that was almost as bad as being captured.

Vierra nodded.

“Did you destroy their boat?” Rika asked.

“Yes. I believe that living as a Vikings’ slave would not suit you.” Vierra’s cold smile had returned to her face. “Now you have a necklace. Can’t you do the journey?”

“But I have no helper, no protector for my body if I go. And I’m afraid. I haven’t traveled since that one time, and Eera can’t help me no more if something goes wrong.”

“Do you know how to do it?”

“Well, I do, but what does it help if...”

“If it’s all the same if you die, why are you afraid? What does it matter if you die on your journey or in the hands of slavers? And I can protect your body if you tell me what to do.”

Rika wiped her eyes.

“Are you serious?”

Vierra took one of the snake mushrooms and cut a piece off it, offering it to Rika.

“Start chewing, then.”

Rika’s face turned into an involuntary smile.

“You can’t do it like that. Put water in the pot and add the mushrooms. You have to boil them first, because the spirit of the snake is strong and it will make the eater very sick. The one to go on the journey must know the song for the birth of the snake. Otherwise you can’t control the journey, and the journey will control you. And a drum is needed as well. Give me those two branches.”

“What does the protector have to do?”

“When I travel, no other living being must see me. You need to keep them away from me, otherwise they will take my empty shell for themselves. And if I get lost, Eera would have come after me and guided me back.”

“That I can’t do, so it’s best that you get back by yourself.”

“Oh, and when I travel, whatever you do, don’t look into my eyes.”

“Why not?”

“If you do so, you will be in control of my body and I won’t be able to return. And your spirit is not ready to rule over two bodies. Do as I say.”

The tears and smile on Rika’s face conflicted with each other. And the anxiousness in her eyes would have been obvious to anyone.

The journey

It seemed to Vierra that Rika had been drumming forever. Rika had eaten the mushrooms once they had completed their long boiling, but nothing seemed to be about to happen yet. For the whole time, Rika had sat there looking into the fire while she drummed the branches against each other in an even, hypnotic rhythm. The sky seemed to be waiting and kept its rain to itself while the thick clouds kept the stars and the moon from seeing what was going on beneath them.

Rika had covered her face with mud that she’d dug from the beach sand. On her bare upper body she had painted spirals, birds, ships and wind with charcoal, to hurry the journey. Her beautiful red hair glowed in the campfire, as if it too was on fire.

Vierra shook her head. She felt like the drumming was starting to sink into her consciousness, as she was no longer sure which direction the sound was coming from. It strengthened and diminished in turns, even though Rika’s hands struck the branches together with even strength. Vierra looked at her friend’s face, but her eyes were fixed on the fire. There was a strange glow in them. Suddenly Rika started to sing.

Serpent-kin now hear my song
Feel the power in these words
I know well just how you came to
I can cut life off your cords

Bird of old, of stone and sea
Again he built his nest
In which golden eggs he planted
On top of soft hays rest

One egg had in all the wisdom
Knowledge imbued other
Steadiness of hand and mind
Bristled from their brother

Hatching them the bird was thirsty
Hunger lived inside him
So he flew off to the seaside
To catch the fish on ocean grim

Creepy snake who hid in shadows
To the nest he scoured
Took the eggs of bless and virtue
All of them devoured

Bird came from the restless ocean
He saw what the snake had done
His might rose from calmed waters
Angry song in there begun

Stronger grew the mighty song
The song of hate and scorn
It could cut like sharpest blade
Legs of snake soon were shorn

One and two and three and four
Cut the song of might
Until snake had no one more
Grounded him outright

To the worm he plainly said
“I’ll scorn you forever
Broke my nest and ate my eggs
Again shall walk you never”

From his belly snake just said
“Keep my legs, I care not
I have all your knowledge now
All your skills I have caught”

So the snake did slide away
On his belly crawled
Never saw his legs no more
Went his way appalled

Vierra recognized the song of snake’s birth, and she got to hear countless other animals have their turn after that. Beads of sweat started to gather in Rika’s face, but neither the strength of the song nor the rhythm of the drum faded. She was showing the measure of her skill and knowledge as the night drew on, and still the branches kept striking each other in an even rhythm.

Suddenly the drumming stopped. Vierra started and noticed that Rika had fallen onto her back. She writhed for a moment and then just laid there, her eyes looking into eternity, unblinking.

Vierra pushed her ear to the lying woman’s chest and heard her heartbeat. She also heard her faint breathing, so Rika was still alive. Vierra half carried, half dragged her unconscious friend to the lean-to, farther from the fire, and sat beside the empty body. All this she did while making sure that she kept her gaze away from the red-haired woman’s eyes.

Every breath seemed so long, and every passing moment seemed to stretch with them. Vierra kept listening to the sound of Rika’s breathing and the sound of her heart beating while she waited for her to return from her journey. With the passing time her concern grew, as Rika showed no signs of regaining consciousness. The eastern horizon started to brighten, when Vierra finally made her decision. And like always, she executed it fast.

Rika hadn’t eaten all of the mushrooms they’d boiled. The rest were left in the now cooled pot beside the campfire. Vierra dug the mushrooms from the pot and ate them as fast as possible. The taste was horrible, but it didn’t stop her. She grabbed the branches Rika had dropped and now started to drum them, trying to imitate her friend’s rhythm.

Soon she realized that even though the boiling had weakened the snake’s spirit, the mushrooms were still strong for her, for she had no experience of the witches’ work. Her stomach roiled with disgust, and she had to use all her willpower not to vomit the mushrooms out. Grinding her teeth and beating the branches against each other, she managed to keep the spirits inside her.

Vierra felt tremendously thirsty, but she didn’t dare to stop drumming or to take her eyes away from the fire. Suddenly the air seemed thick, and Vierra had to gasp for each breath. Streams of sweat flowed down her face and hands, but she didn’t notice.

Suddenly the sky started to throw water down at Vierra. The rainfall rang in her ears loudly and the crashing sound of falling water cut through her until she was sure her head would crack. There was no way to escape, however, and she kept looking at the fire and drumming. Soon she was soaking wet and water dripped continuously from her black hair. The flame Vierra looked at started to stretch and jump, and it was hard to keep her eyes focused on it.

The whispers were muffled at first, so silent that Vierra wasn’t sure if she’d imagined them while waiting. Soon the sound grew and the shadow of her doubt dissipated. The woman strained to hear but couldn’t make out what the speakers were saying. There were dozens of voices and they all spoke over each other.

“Be silent or speak in turns,” Vierra finally snapped impatiently.

For a moment the voices paused, and then answered with a clear voice.

“You summoned us yourself, from where there’s no return. Why can’t you bear the consequences of your actions?” It was Aure’s voice. Vierra could almost see her stubborn cousin saying those words.

“Speak one at a time, so I can answer,” Vierra wiped sweat off her forehead.

“It is fine, me first,” Aure continued. “I have nothing to say. You did what you had to, and I hold no grudge against you.”

The voices spoke, each in their turn. Some were calm and serious like Aure, others angry and bitter because of the fate they had suffered. They asked Vierra why she had killed them, and she answered all of them. None of the voices were able to say what she could have done differently. The questioning lasted a long time, because Vierra had sent many into the underworld during the years.

“Why didn’t you stay with us and celebrate?” a small voice asked finally. It took Vierra’s breath away, and the tears that had been absent for so long rose to her eyes. During the dark years that had passed she had long forgotten what her son’s voice was like. Now, after all that, it cut her soul like a searing blade. Vierra couldn’t answer.