Page 111 of Devil's Deal

“You could have this,” he says, turning his palm. The bottle disappears. “You could have it and so much more. So, what will it be, Jaga?”

I shake my head. He smiles like he expected my answer.

“It’s a shame,” he says, his smile widening. “Well, dear. We’ll try a few more things, but there is something I wanted you to know. I found a way to force your hand. It’s crude for sure, and would entangle us beyond what I find comfortable, but I’ll do it. I’m not above sacrificing my immortal peace to have you. Consider this your first and last warning.”

I’m still dizzy and nauseous after unwillingly stabbing him over and over. My heart is a fluttering moth beating against a cage. And yet, I coax my dry throat to speak despite the fresh wave of fear he just sparked.

“What way?”

Woland grins, turning away. His tail lashes my knee, and I jerk from the impact, shaken as I am.

“Oh, let it be a surprise. Just know a knife won’t help you. Nothing ever will once you’re mine.”

And with that, he’s gone, dissolving into shadows until there’s nothing left of him. I am utterly alone, shaking and defeated, my mind running rampant as I try to figure out what he discovered.

It might be another lie, of course. A bluff to make me give in. What terrifies me is the possibility he’s telling the truth.

And now, I really wish I hadn’t slacked on my magic training after Wiosna left, even though I have little faith in my power breaking through, no matter how many spells I torture myself with.

“Things look pretty dire, don’t they?” I ask, looking up at Jacek’s corpse. “I hope it will be so much better where you’re going.”

“He’s going to Wyraj,” a deep male voice, voice I don’t know, answers.

I jump to my feet and look wildly around, wishing my knife were in my hand and not down on the floor. There is no one here, just me and Jacek’s body, and it’s not his voice.

I blink. There. A faint shape, as if an outline of a male figure, shimmers against the door. I blink again, and now, there is a man.

“Who are you?” I bark, fear making me hostile.

I know at once he’s not a mortal. He has that robustness of figure, that spark in his eye the gods at Kupala had. His hair is short and black, just like his closely trimmed beard, both shot with silver. His eyes are dark and deep-set, giving his face a look of uncanny perceptiveness. He’s dressed in a black cloak over brown trousers and a shirt as white as snow. His boots reach almost up to his knees, the black leather polished to a high shine.

“Do you not know?” he asks.

There is a seriousness to his voice, and an echo of a melodic accent, sweet and lilting. Something about the shape of his eyebrows and the downward tilt of his mouth seems familiar. I squint. The similarity is barely there, and yet, he reminds me of the Rodzanica.

“Rod,” I whisper, moving a step back. “Why do I see you?”

He doesn’t answer, focusing on Jacek instead. Rod comes closer, reaching out a hand to lay it over Jacek’s heart. He closes his eyes and sighs, and I can’t help but think he’s too beautiful, just like all the gods.

There is peace to him, and dignity. He stands tall, and his every gesture is measured and perfect—just so.

But as I assess him, a thought keeps buzzing in my head, skewing my perception.

Because nothing overshadows the fact he slept with his own mother. An uneasy cackle builds in my throat, and I hug my sides, desperately trying to hold it in. I can’t fucking laugh while the god of eternal rest takes the soul of a dead man to Wyraj. I cannot.

Rod sings a long, haunting note and raises his hand. Jacek’s mouth falls open and a bird, brown and small, comes out and sits on his lower lip.

I swallow, no longer wanting to laugh as my thoughts whirl. When I narrow my eyes, letting them unfocus, the bird turns into a skeletal form with no flesh and no feathers. Its eyes are too large for its head and pitch black. Looking into them is like looking into eternity.

It hops onto Rod’s extended finger. The sound of Rod’s call ends, and the cottage fills with deadly silence. I don’t dare breathe.

Then, the bird chirps. It’s a quick, questioning sound. Rod nods.

“Yes, to Wyraj. Goodbye, whisperer.”

I choke out a goodbye, and they both vanish. At first, they just grow faint, disappearing, until only their outlines remain, and then, not even that.

That’s when I exhale and collapse to my knees, panting and laughing under my breath. I saw Rod! And a human soul! This one moment, even though so short, was more poignant and meaningful than my entire life combined.

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