Page 123 of Devil's Deal

At least, dealing with upirs is easy. You just have to dig out the remains during the day, when they are inactive, cut off the upir’s head, and put it between their legs. That way, they get stuck forever and can’t come out to suck people’s blood.

The burial is sparsely attended, because everyone is out in the fields, getting as much work done as they can before noon. The sun is hot and bright, the weather perfect for reaping.

Ida isn’t here. I know, because I look twice, but then, it’s no wonder. She’s most likely in Janek’s field, reaping with everyone. Even small children and the elderly, who normally wouldn’t have to come out in this heat, are out there, working since dawn.

I nod at a few of Jacek and Magda’s neighbors and other villagers who came because they don’t own any land. Sobiemir, the carpenter, waves me over while Milka, his wife, herds their four children down the path back to the village.

When he greets me, I control my face with effort, because the image of his wife sucking off Jarota at Kupala is still vivid in my mind. And yet, it doesn’t seem to have done any damage. If there was any strife between husband and wife, it played out in the privacy of their home.

“Good day, whisperer,” he says as we follow his family down the path. “I meant to look in on you. Do you have time to come in and renew the protections against woodworms in my workshop? Czeslawa did it some time ago, but ever since her shed collapsed…”

“Of course,” I answer when he trails off, clearly unwilling to speak badly about my predecessor.

I wonder briefly where she is and whether she got safely to her home village. A spark of triumph lightens my chest, because she’s gone now, and I’m in her place despite how awful my odds were before Kupala.

She lost and I won.

“I will make you a bench or a small table in return,” Sobiemir promises, tugging on his blond mustache peppered with silver hairs.

I nod. “Thank you. I’ll come by tomorrow. I have one chore to do today, and it’s likely to take until dusk.”

Once I get home, I look over the things I prepared, making sure I have everything. Nerves buzz under my skin, and I pace my cottage, waiting for noon to approach. When I can’t stand it any longer, I grab my bundle with cold nettle brew, rope, a hammer, and three thick, rusty nails, each as long as my forearm.

The thought of using them makes my gorge rise, but I can’t give up now. The poludnica already murdered two people, and I’m determined to get rid of her, once and for all, without Woland’s help.

As I set out, I pass people coming back from the fields. Some look angry about the forced break, some relieved. I pass Ida, who supports Janek’s old grandma as she walks unsteadily, sweat glistening in her deep wrinkles.

Ida doesn’t even spare me a glance. I wonder if she’ll come back once her supply of herbs runs out, or if she’ll endure her husband’s demands.

Darobor is the last I encounter. He stands on the path leading into the fields. He looks at the still unharvested swathes of golden wheat, his hand shielding his eyes from the sun. I join him and look, too. There is no figure in white yet.

“It doesn’t feel right for you to go alone,” he says, his mouth set. “She kills women, too. It could have been you yesterday.”

“Magda wanted to die,” I say, my voice firm.

I don’t want him to be a dutiful protector right now, and he absolutely will try to help me if I don’t deter him. I want Darobor to be safe. He’s one of the few people I truly respect and trust, though I’m sure if he learned the truth about me, he’d hate and fear me.

All the more reason to hide well.

“I was safe yesterday because I stayed in the shade all the time,” I lie. “I’ll be safe today, too. And hopefully, tomorrow everyone can work through until noon, though I’d prefer the children and elderly to stay home during the worst heat.”

Like Janek’s grandma. She should be home, sitting in shade and drinking cold beer.

I resolve to do rounds through the fields and monitor everyone with a frail constitution tomorrow. And if someone looks sickly, I’ll just order them to go home. No one will dare to disobey the whisperer.

But first, I have a poludnica to catch.

It will be bloody. I’d rather no one saw it, especially Darobor. Watching me amputate a mauled arm is one thing. But when he sees what I do to the poludnica…

“Go home,” I command, harsher than I should. “Tell everyone to avoid the fields today, and tomorrow, the threat will be gone. This is how you can help, so go and make sure no one distracts me. I am the whisperer, Darobor. I promise I’ll be safe.”

His mouth thins and anger flickers in his blue eyes, but after a moment, he nods sharply.

“I’ll leave you to it.”

I make sure he’s truly gone before I set out for the pear tree on the balk. My bundle isn’t heavy, but it weighs on me.

At this moment, I hate Woland with a passion for trying to force my hand. I hate being here, and he’s to blame. And yes, I will kill the poludnica and keep telling him no, but it will cost me.

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