Page 11 of Devil's Deal

Some of them have small babies at home and should be resting, and yet, they are here. Because they know very well what happens at Kupala and came over to watch their husbands.

I don’t pity those women even though they are pitiful. But it’s their own fault they have to stand here, exhausted and suspicious of their men.

If they had come to me, I would have given them herbs to make their husbands’ pricks useless for tonight. I know Wiosna had a supply and sold most of it right before Kupala. The new whisperer either doesn’t know the right recipe or doesn’t offer it to young mothers. Or maybe her price is too high to afford. She’s much more expensive than Wiosna was.

“I won’t leave you alone,” Bogna says resolutely, and I laugh.

“Go and do me a favor,” I say, not because I really want Bogna to do anything for me but because I know standing by me in public makes her a target. “Find out if Czeslawa offered them herbs to ensure their husbands’ fidelity. If not, you can hint I might have something for them. For next year.”

Bogna lights up, her big, innocent eyes creasing in a smile. Right now, she looks so childlike. Her face is open and trusting, her joy obvious and bright.

That only makes me hate her husband more. I’d gladly poison him myself, but Bogna forbade it. She has a good soul, pure and sweet, and so she’d never let him get hurt. Even though he almost killed her.

We don’t speak about the children he murdered. Although he only beat the first pregnancy out of her, she miscarried the next two, as well. Her womb is broken after the trauma.

So yes, I think he deserves to die. I’d gladly put poison in his beer if Bogna allowed it.

She goes happily now, eager for her new mission. I stay in place, looking around the large meadow to see if everyone is here. I’ll have to do my little show like every year to ensure they don’t kick me out, and I’d rather all villagers witnessed it. This way, I’ll avoid gossip.

The maidens fling water off their bodies and gather dry clothes from a large, flat stone by the shore. They pick up their baskets with oils and honey, and my lip curls even as my heart stutters with a fresh wave of envy.

They will get dressed in the forest where no one can see, though I’m sure the young men will follow to peek. Before they dress, they will anoint each other with fragrant oils and put honey between their legs for the boys to lap at later tonight.

I know enough about the female body to foresee the unpleasant consequences. Unlike the honey, they won’t be sweet. And yet, jealousy squeezes my heart in a chilly grip because I want to celebrate tonight. Like everyone.

But when the girls pass by me, they give me disdainful looks. Some snicker, covering their mouths with their hands as they size me up, their eyebrows arching until their gazes snag on my chaplet.

When Ida sees it, her mockery turns to anger. This is a reason to be glad I did the spell, I decide. If Ida is angry, that means my chaplet must be truly as splendid as I think.

She stops in front of me, looking boldly up, the group of girls at her back like a gathering of wilas.

“Hello, witch,” she says, her voice lilting in mockery. “Who’s the hapless boy you’re trying to entice with this sad little crown? I’d better warn him you’re planning to ensnare him with magic.”

I’m so used to the hurt of rejection, I barely register it as I draw power from my joyless triumph. At least they envy me for something, too.

“There is no one in this village who can tempt me,” I say, and it’s the truth. “Have your sad little boys. I don’t want them. You’re safe from me.”

Ida’s face flushes deep pink, twisting with fury. The sight gives me a vicious jab of pleasure. She’s not so pretty now, is she? But she quickly schools her features into a fake sweet smile and comes closer until the grasses from her chaplet tickle my nose.

“Because you’d rather lie with the devil, wouldn’t you? Like a witch.” Her whisper carries, and a few girls gasp at her audacity.

“Yet I am not the one calling his name,” I say cooly, even though my heart pounds faster and faster, the memory of the night when I did call the devil’s name flashing through my mind. The terror is still fresh, living in my guts like a viper, crawling out every time it senses my weakness.

I swallow, keeping the nausea down.

Ida’s fake smile drops, and she rears back as if slapped. Her red mouth twists, searching for a good response, but she finds none. Seeing the opportunity to make the most of my forced little show, I smile and nod.

Better get this over with, and Ida just gave me a useful opening. It’s time for my trial.

“But of course, we should always be careful of the evil hiding in our midst,” I say. “I am happy to prove my innocence.”

I walk around the group, heading for the big bonfire. The weight of their gazes prickles my nape, and I hear a few quiet words as the message spreads around the meadow.

“Jaga goes to the fire. Watch Jaga! Quickly, look!”

I’ve been tested by the Kupala fire every year since I was born. The first time, my mother brought me to the bonfire, pressing my wobbly head close to her chest and whispering soothing words because I was uneasy.

As soon as she approached, red sparks shot up into the sky, and there were so many. It was like a rain of fire. The people gasped and called for the gods to protect them, and then Wiosna came over to my mom, took me in her arms, and said that some idiot had clearly put a fresh pine branch into the fire and that caused the sparks.

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