Page 117 of Devil's Deal

And yet, I can’t allow myself to forget where we are. I’ve already failed dismally as a whisperer. I hope with all my might I’ll never meet Magda or Jacek in the afterlife. If I do, I won’t be able to look them in the eyes.

“It’s thanks to me,” Woland says with a satisfied grin. “I come over here so often, the borders between worlds grew thin and porous all around your village—around you. I am a god, Jaga. Wherever I go, turbulent currents of magic gather, and it’s that magic, and that thinning of borders, that allows you to see what’s hidden.”

I have no way to check if it’s the truth or not, because everything he’s told me goes so far beyond the scope of the stories I learned as a child. I decide to accept his explanation.

“Does it mean other people here could see him, too?” I ask, wondering what other consequences there are.

Woland shakes his head once. “No. They lack a certain… characteristic that you, my dear, have.”

I huff, irritated he won’t say whatever it is in clear terms.

“What characteristic? Magic? Being the devil’s chosen? Having a certain amount of freckles?”

He chuckles and doesn’t reply, studying his claws with great attention. I clench my jaw and tap my foot, giving my irritation at least that small outlet. Woland looks up, his smile filled with satisfaction born from knowing something I don’t.

He won’t tell me if he doesn’t want to, but there are other things I can ask. And my mind is teeming with questions.

“Fine. Can you tell me why some souls are taken directly to Wyraj and some go to Nawie? It’s been bothering me. I know Wiosna is in Nawie, and Bogna, too, as you said. But Rod told Jacek he was taking his soul to Wyraj. Why is that?”

Woland grows serious, tapping his chin in thought as he watches me, like he’s thinking whether to tell me or not. I hold my breath until he nods.

“Very well. Let’s discuss the duality of the soul. Be warned, though, what I am going to tell you is not the official version of the lore.”

“Duality?” I frown. “So… There are two souls? How come? And what’s the official version? I never heard of this.”

He smiles grimly and raises his open palm. Above it, in perfect miniature, appears the figure of a stork in flight. The stork carries a small, dark bundle in its beak.

“But you have heard of it. You believe storks bring souls from Wyraj, don’t you?”

I nod slowly. “Well, yes. But that’s just one soul per person.”

He grins. Another image appears over his palm, a silhouette of a pregnant woman. There is a small, golden light in her stomach. The stork flies over her, circling, and drops the dark bundle. It falls into the woman, and now, there are two lights in her stomach, one dimmer and smaller than the other.

Woland is silent, letting me figure it out for myself. I consider it, trying to put it all together, but this entire thing is too strange. I watch the two lights pulsing gently inside the phantom woman, their rhythm interchanging and slightly out of sync.

“You’re saying a baby already has a soul of their own before they get one from Wyraj.”

He crumples his fist, and the illusion disappears. “Yes. Once a mortal is conceived, they come into existence in both realms at once, the physical, and the spiritual. You, mortals, are self-sufficient. You don’t need a special delivery from Wyraj to be complete as a person.”

“No. Wait. That’s wrong.”

As a midwife, I was treated to a few long, serious lessons about babies’ souls from Wiosna. It is believed a conceived baby doesn’t have their soul right from the beginning, they only receive one after a certain time passes. That means miscarriages or pregnancy terminations we sometimes perform in the early months are purely physical acts.

They don’t involve deaths, but removals.

Wiosna stressed it very much. She was convinced this belief made things much easier on a woman who miscarried or needed to have her pregnancy stopped.

Woland tilts his head to the side. “Is it? Why do you think it’s wrong?”

“Well, what happens if a woman miscarries in the early months?” I ask, tapping my foot faster in agitation.

He shrugs. “Nothing. The baby dies, and since they don’t have an ancestral soul yet, Rod doesn’t come. The inborn soul leaves the body at the moment of death and goes to Nawie. A miscarried soul becomes a nawka. Nyja takes care of them.”

I shake my head, thinking. Something knocks at the back of my mind, an echo of a memory. Finally, I remember.

“Wait. Didn’t Strzybog say she raised the nawkas to be her… army?”

Woland snorts with disgust.

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