Page 87 of Devil's Deal

Blast it.

I can’t make any friends, because Woland will kill them off if I resist him. Did he see us just now? I look around surreptitiously, convinced I’ll see a flash of his grin or the shadow of a tail, but everything looks normal.

“Wiosna?” I ask under my breath, walking through my gate. “Is he still gone?”

“Yes,” she answers at once. “Don’t worry.”

I chew on my lip, opening my door wide to let in a bit of the breeze, though it’s hopeless. It’s an incredibly hot day, and I’ll probably spend it outside in the shade of a plum tree.

“And when he came to me by the river,” I say cautiously, dreading her answer, “did you watch?”

“Up to a point,” she says with a snort. “I’m not a dirty old grandma who gets off on peeking, you know. I made myself scarce when it became obvious what you two were doing. It’s a dangerous game, Jaga. You should keep your distance, but then, you won’t listen to my advice anyway, will you?”

I shake my head, knowing she’s right about everything. Yes, I should keep my distance, but even when I do, Woland pushes too close, obliterating my defenses and getting under my skin like a thorn. I can’t keep him out.

“He said he’ll kill my friends if I make any,” I murmur. “If I don’t let him claim me.”

Wiosna snorts. “And it’s a problem, how? You hate people. Just let it show more and I’m sure no one will be eager to befriend you.”

I smile tightly and don’t say anything else. Throughout the years, I got used to Wiosna’s cruel directness and practical approach, so her words cut me very rarely. But what she just said opens a deep, throbbing wound in my chest.

Yes, I keep saying I want to be alone, that I hate everyone, just like they hate me. But no matter how often I repeat it, it doesn’t become the truth. Bogna’s friendship was so precious to me because I craved another person’s affection with all my being. I would have died for her, and if Woland stopped time at that moment, just as Przemyslaw raised the stone, and told me to be his, I would have agreed.

But he didn’t, and I was too mindless with terror to even try bargaining with him. I don’t even think it would have worked. He wanted to hurt me because I dared to reject him, and so he did.

And I have to do everything in my might to keep it from happening again.

“Ready to do a spell?” Wiosna asks after I have a cup of water and some bread, forcing myself to eat even though I feel no hunger or thirst. Woland’s magic is still strong within my veins, and I wonder if that’s the way gods and demons always feel. Unburdened by physical needs, always strong and well-rested.

What I wouldn’t give to be that way, too. And yet, I know I can’t get used to this. It would be too easy to become addicted. That is why I have to access my own inner power, and to do that, I have to do magic every day in the hopes one spell will finally break through.

I dread it already.

“I suppose,” I say with a sigh. “All right, I have this idea that I want to use against Czeslawa. A spell would help. But it will have to wait until dinnertime so she doesn’t see me.”

It’s haymaking season, so most men and a fair number of women and children are out in the meadows, reaping and turning the grass so it dries evenly. They make haste, because the linen growing blue in the fields will soon be ready for harvest, as will the wheat. The hay must be made and put away before then.

But Czeslawa doesn’t work in the fields, and she spends most of her days at home, except for when she goes out to dinner. There are a few families who invite her to meals, and she rotates between them.

I grab my wicker basket and set out for the herbs I told Ida about. Wiosna always scoffed at beauty potions as not real medicine, just a vanity product, but I used to enjoy making them. Properly prepared, they made my skin softer and more even, my lips redder, my hair shiny and strong.

Today, after speaking with Ida, I have another idea how to make those potions do some good. And so I set out into the meadows, stopping at the places where I know the right herbs grow. I gather mullein, which is one of the most versatile herbs and has rejuvenating abilities.

The plants are taller than me, gently swaying in the summer wind, and I pick the small yellow flowers and a few leaves. Next, I set out for mugwort. It grows everywhere, and I quickly fill my basket with the unassuming herb, its tiny flowers white and brown.

I swing by Waclaw’s linen field and get a few of the blue-flowered plants. The linen is supposed to be stolen in secret from a field owned by someone who has only sons. It is the most potent then, making women who wear and use it more attractive.

And finally, I head back to my cottage and pick almost my entire supply of lovage from my herb garden. My hands smell like it after I’m done, spicy and green. Woland mocked my soap, and he was right in a way—lovage is a love plant, among others. But it’s also a powerful protection against many types of bies, against the evil eye, and demons.

But the reason I want to include lovage is that it makes people who use it more appealing and convincing. Its effect is subtle, but my hope is that a woman using my potion will gain a tiny bit of power in her household.

Maybe even enough for her no to be heard.

Chapter twenty-nine

Hexes

“She just left,” Wiosna says in the afternoon, interrupting my potion preparations. “You’ll have plenty of time if you go now.”

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