Page 145 of Devil's Deal

A chill runs down my spine when I consider my possible role in his death. He could still be alive if he hadn’t come to see me. That makes me clench my teeth and pace, tearing at my hair.

My mind tries to push away the possibility that my brand killed Jarota. I don’t want to accept it, and yet, my conscience doesn’t allow me to just assume I’m not to blame.

I stop and stare at my cold hearth, tasting blood when I bite off another cuticle. I can’t run from this, no matter how much I want to.

And so I consider, truly and honestly. If I were Woland, what would I do to claim me?

I remember how he deprived me of Wiosna. He wanted me to be on my own when dealing with the poludnica, but that didn’t work. And then, I died, and he said he’d do things differently.

So now… I am safe.

It’s everyone else who’s dying.

“Oh gods,” I whisper, the truth sinking in.

With my next breath, I am in motion, spreading a large sheet on the floor of my bedroom. I rush through the house, picking up clothes, my knife, the most basic wound treating supplies. Food. A small cauldron. My flintstone and the iron knife, a spoon, a cup. Beeswax candles to trade. My warmest cloak. My toughest shoes.

I pack in a frenzy, and soon, the pile of things sitting in the middle of the sheet is too big to tie the ends together. So I grit my teeth and go through the things I amassed, setting aside anything that’s not absolutely necessary. Finally, I bundle it all up and lift.

It’s heavy. I won’t go far with a pack like this.

So I growl and undo the knots, putting more things aside. I’m about to try again when there’s a loud knock on my front door.

“Fuck.”

I can pretend I’m not home, but where else would I be? Besides, the front door isn’t locked. If my visitor is determined enough to just open it, they will see me. The knocking gets more insistent, and I get up, resolving to send whoever it is home.

But when I open the door, Maja is on my doorstep, her pregnant belly huge, her face twisted with pain.

“No,” I whisper.

She leans on her mother’s arm, and Roza looks at me impatiently when I just stand there, slack-jawed and horrified.

“She’s about to give birth,” Roza snaps. “Will you let us in?”

Oh gods. I don’t know what to do. This is like a nightmare, and just like in a horrible dream, I move away from the door, my body following Roza’s order when I don’t issue any of my own. Roza leads Maja in, and behind them, Alutka, Maja’s mother-in-law, follows, bearing a basket.

They help Maja settle down on a stool and turn to me.

I look at my half-bundled belongings just visible inside the bedroom. There’s no way I can grab them and go out without raising suspicions. The only way to go is to just leave. Go out into the rain and as far away as my legs will take me.

“Jaga? What are you doing? She needs your help!”

I glance at Maja, taking in her face red from effort and the tension in her limbs. It looks like she’s close to pushing. But she’s a strong, healthy woman, and her pregnancy was an easy one. I know that her mother and mother-in-law could deliver the baby in a pinch. She doesn’t really need me, and I will likely do more harm than good.

The choice weighs heavy, and I’m torn.

Either I run now and leave everything behind or I’ll have to deliver the baby, and licho only knows what will happen then. It might be fine. And yet, it might not.

I can’t take this risk, so I open the door to leave. Darobor stands just outside, his hand poised to knock.

“Jaga,” he says, wiping rain off his forehead. “Sara is vomiting blood. Will you see her?”

“She has to deliver the baby first!” Roza snaps behind me.

Darobor flinches. “I didn’t know. Of course, I’ll wait here then. Can you come out as soon as you’re done?”

I nod numbly, clenching my teeth as my insides twist with dread. It’s all too awful and too convenient. As if a horrid, cruel force arranged all those people to move to those exact places. Or maybe I see patterns where there are none.

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