Page 90 of Devil's Deal

And to that effect, I will sacrifice a new pair of shoes, as well. I sewed them up from some soft leather and good linen today, and as I wait for Wiosna, I whisper a little spell.

“May these lead you far away,

Into countries bleak and gray.”

Giving shoes as a gift is a proven way to send someone away for good. That spell is meant to reinforce the power of this gift. I smile when my lips and fingertips tingle, letting me know the magic works.

“And may you fall into a deep hole and never crawl out,” I add in a whisper, dark giddiness filling my veins.

Czeslawa thinks I’m a witch? Let me prove her right.

When Wiosna whispers it’s time, I grab my little bag of mistletoe berries. Quiet as a shadow, I walk down the back paths to the whisperer’s cottage. The village is still, every window dark, the only movement coming from linens fluttering in the breeze on washing lines outside.

I bid the gate hinges silent when I open Czeslawa’s gate, and they listen. My body tingles, heat traveling down my back and calves, magic flowing freely. I wonder if I have enough, still. Woland said that little drop he gave me when I lay under the werewolf was a day’s worth, and I drank so much more in the river. Yet, will it be enough?

I push doubts away and walk down the path. Something prickles my sole, and I hiss, looking down. The path is littered with thorns.

“She really believes a witch is after her,” Wiosna murmurs. “This is a trap for you.”

I take the thorn out of my foot and throw it aside, shaking my head. I walk the rest of the way without trouble, stepping carefully between the thorns. Once on the porch, I tell the door hinges to be silent, and they obey. I put the pair of shoes in Czeslawa’s little ante-room, and they fit right in the long row of her slippers.

This is a bit risky, since she might notice an unfamiliar pair of shoes. And yet, I also know she has so many. What’s one more pair?

“And now, to the well.”

The well spell is Wiosna’s idea. As I go around the cottage, I notice the wreckage of the shed. In the quiet of the night, a buzzing sound drifts over the ruins, my worms devouring what’s left of the wood.

The well doesn’t have an awning, just like it didn’t have one when Wiosna lived here. When Czeslawa comes to draw water, she’ll likely look inside, which means the spell will work perfectly. I open the bag with mistletoe berries and let them fall in with a quiet, faraway splash. There isn't enough to poison the water, and it’s not my intent. The berries are an anchor to keep the spell tied to this spot.

I close my eyes and put both hands on the sides of the well, chanting the spell Wiosna taught me.

“Each time you gaze in the deep

When Dzadzbog is high in the sky,

A new boil shall mark your cheek

Until in the well you shall dive

Or for my mercy you'll plead.”

I repeat it three times, magic sweating out of my body in a powerful wave of heat. I shake and grit my teeth when I’m done, and even though I don’t feel completely depleted, like I did that time in the river, it’s close.

“Go home, Jagusia. Go to sleep. And we’ll do some magic tomorrow.”

Back in my cottage, I sleep well until morning, not knowing that it’s the last night I’ll spend alone and unbothered.

Chapter thirty

Zmora

“It’s healing nicely,” I say, biting back a smirk when Swietko looks at me with a mixture of helpless rage and resentment. “You should be able to move about now. I’ll give you an oil to rub the scars so they don’t pull or hurt.”

He grunts in response, and I cover my vicious snicker with a cough. Swietko sits on a stool by my table, squirming in his place like a child with an ass full of worms. He hasn’t said even one word since he and Alina came in. Just like I predicted, he hates being beholden to me.

And I shamelessly enjoy his discomfort. He called me horrible names, and for what? Because he wanted to pick on someone and I was right there, the village victim. He’s paying for it now.

“Thank you so much, Jaga,” Alina says, clasping my hands. “I would be a widow without you.”

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