In the middle of Silent Finland was no place for a celebration, but somehow Mikkel felt that one was in order. Sigrun and Lalli were healing well from their wounds, Onni was recovering from his battle with the Kade, and was sometimes even seen to smile when looking at Russu, the young woman who carried the soul of his sister, and who had led them to this place. All of them had been deeply shaken by their experiences, especially Emil who had found his entire worldview to be turned upside down, but slowly they were all reaching a new equilibrium, and realising that whatever happened to them now, they were a team, and deeply bonded together. So Mikkel thought about giving them all a richly deserved feast.
The old farmstead where they had forted up to recover looked to have been an exceptional place in the Old World. The thick fieldstone walls had kept trolls and beasts out, as had the finely crafted wardspells on every door and window, and the only body they had found there had been that of a very old woman, showing no signs of the disease, tucked into a bed in the attic and looking as if her death had been a peaceful one. When Onni had translated the thick document they had found wrapped in layers of waxed parchment on her bedside table, he had burst into tears, but they seemed to be happy tears as well as those of mourning. He finally understood why, when he had laid a hand on the heavy front door, intending to carefully attempt to work his way through the wardspells so as to get the battered party into shelter from a wild and freakish summer storm, the door had swung open under his hand, and he had felt rather than heard a soft voice whisper “Welcome home”.
The document had been both an explanation and a will. The body they had found had been that of the last owner of ‘Field to Table Organic Farm and Fine Dining’, who had been a young woman when the Rash had struck, killing her parents and grandfather who had founded the place before she was born, but leaving her and her grandmother untouched. This had both puzzled and grieved her. She and her grandmother had continued to live there, since the fields surrounding the farmhouse were richly planted, the house had both an excellent solar power system, large water tanks, and well stocked freezers and pantries, and she felt strangely safe there. That sense of safety was explained as her innate magic awoke and she made the acquaintance of the local landspirits, who explained their long alliance with her parents and grandparents. Unfortunately, her family had not been immune. She however was, and none of the landspirits knew why. But they cared for and protected the child of their old friends until she was able to protect herself.
When a small group of refugees arrived at the farm, she had found one of the young men in the party attractive, and as the newcomers fitted into farm life they had continued to grow closer, eventually marrying in an improvised ceremony. Their son, Russu told Onni, had been her father. When her grandmother had died, Russu had set out into the wilderness trying to reach another settlement to get help, but had found the buildings empty and neglected. She had been walking back to the farm when she had encountered Lalli, who had led her to the group.
She had asked for their help in burying her grandmother, which they had given gladly. Sisu was laid to rest under a spreading apple tree in the old rose garden, near the graves of her parents, grandparents, husband and son. Now they had finished rereading Sisu’s will, and while a shaken group considered their new situation, Mikkel thought about feeding everyone.
With Russu’s help he tidied the kitchen and began to gather ingredients. To his amazement, the solar power had lasted well enough that the refrigerator and freezer were still functioning. Russu had explained that her grandmother and parents had known how to maintain the equipment, and had shown her, and she suspected that the landspirits had something to do with the lack of corrosion and decay of the solar panels. Mikkel mulled this information over, grateful but very deeply puzzled. Perhaps there were parts of his worldview that he really needed to revise.....
“Mikkel?” Russu asked hesitantly in what he was beginning to think of as her ‘Tuuri voice’. “Do you think, if we showed you where to look, we could have some spices? Remember, this used to be a really fancy gourmet restaurant. They had some, and unless the freezers have failed those should still be good.”
Mikkel liked the idea. He already had a rich vegetable soup on the stove, and a haunch of lamb from the freezer defrosted and baking in the big woodfired oven. Bread was rising in pans, ready to go in the oven. All he needed was a dessert.
Sweet pancakes would be nice, he thought. With some of the fresh berries from the garden, and some kind of sauce. He started leafing through the old recipe books that Russu had showed him. What would go with pancakes? She was leaning close, reading over his shoulder, and pointed to a recipe. “What about this one? We have the ingredients, I picked rosehips every summer, with my gran, and we dried a whole lot, because they are medicine as well as food, and they are delicious. One of my favourites!”
She leaned closer, hugging his shoulder. Mikkel sighed. Russu reminded him so much of Tuuri, even before the girl had opened herself to offer Tuuri’s spirit a shared home. Small, silver haired, cheerful, curious, and so very, very Finnish. But now was not the time to think about that. Together they set to the task of following the ancient recipe for Sauce Eglantine.
When they sat down to eat a few hours later, Russu at the head of the table flanked by Mikkel and Reynir with the other team members ranged along the table, she raised her glass in a toast. “Let us drink” she said solemnly, to my grandmother who has found her peace at last, knowing I am safe, and to this, our stronghold and our home”.
