Page 147 of Devil's Deal

Slowly, reverently, I bring it higher. When I cradle it in my arms, the little hands move, the tiny lips open, and a wailing cry resounds in my cottage.

“Oh gods,” Roza says, her voice thick with tears. “She’s here! Oh, Maja, she’s so beautiful!”

Yes, she is. A girl. I smile at her, the little face scrunched up as she cries, and in that moment, my curse and all my problems fade away. She’s beautiful, a tiny treasure, and I feel so blessed I can hold her first.

Roza reaches for the baby, so I tug on the umbilical cord that still pulses, blue and thick with blood. Once enough of it is out, I carefully transfer the tiny girl into Roza’s waiting arms.

I fetch my straw bed for patients, arranging it by Maja’s side. She still has to birth the placenta, and it might take a few hours. Though once the baby latches on, it should go fast. Nursing makes everything move along.

I help Maja lie down on her back. The water over the fire is warm already, and I take some to wash her. Roza coos at the baby, bringing it to Maja, who clumsily takes off the upper part of her dress to bare her breasts, big from pregnancy. Once the baby lies on her stomach, it stops crying, and she laughs tearily.

Then she coughs. Just once.

My body locks with terror, but when I look at mother and baby, all seems well. Maja speaks warm, affectionate words to the little one, and the baby moves its head with purpose, already smelling her mother’s milk.

I wash my hands and kneel to help the little girl latch on. Once that’s done, I get up shakily. Time to go.

“Darobor’s waiting outside. I need to go see Sara,” I tell Roza. “Stay until she births the placenta. I’ll come once I’m done to cut the cord. Congratulations, it’s a beautiful, healthy girl, a real blessing.”

Roza nods, and I pack everything I have that might help for bloody vomit. There isn’t much, but I have herbs that will help soothe the stomach, heal wounds faster, replenish the lost blood. Again, I promise myself not to stay long.

As soon as I go out, Darobor grabs my upper arm and pulls me toward his house. His grip is tight, but I understand the urgency. He had to wait outside my door, and even though it didn’t take long, every minute must have dragged for him.

We splash through the puddles to his house. I hear the retching from the doorway, mixed with terrified whimpers of Darobor’s other children. When I get to Sara’s bedside, she’s pale and sweaty, the skin on her lips cracked, eyes feverish.

Unless she stops vomiting, I can’t do anything for her. The medicine won’t work if it doesn’t stay down.

She’s dying.

“A spoon, please,” I say, shocked by how calm I sound even though inside, I’m screaming. “This should help her stomach calm down,” I say, pouring a spoonful of angelica root and rue macerate into Sara’s open mouth.

I watch her for a few moments, and when she doesn’t immediately retch, I sigh with relief. This is only the first step, but it should help. I stand up and turn to Sara’s mother, who looks pale and scared, her green eyes huge in her drawn face.

“Give her a spoonful of warm boiled water every minute. She needs to drink, but only small sips so she keeps it down. In about half an hour, give her another spoon of this medicine, and keep giving her water. I’ll be back once I’m done with Maja’s labor.”

“Thank you.” She squeezes my arm. “And how is Maja?”

“Well,” I say, forcing a smile. “She gave birth to a beautiful, healthy girl.”

“Praise Mokosz.”

I run back to my cottage, the rain seeming to grow stronger. Suddenly, lightning splits the sky, almost on top of me. A thunder follows at once, making me gasp from fright. I speed up. Through the sheets of rain obscuring everything, I see Roza waiting in the open door of my cottage.

“Jaga, come!” she screams, though I barely hear her over the thudding of rain. “Something’s wrong!”

Oh no. I swallow my scream of helpless rage and run faster, begging all gods who’ll listen to keep Maja and the baby safe. Inside, I hear Maja’s quiet sobbing. I don’t even wipe my feet, just run to her side.

The baby is much paler than she should be. Her mouth is on Maja’s nipple, but she moves it feebly, like she’s trying to suckle but has no strength.

Everything in me screams, voices building upon voices in my head, a true cacophony of terror. I take the baby gently to look at her face. Her eyes are partly open, her mouth still moving when I lift her. And then, it stops. She grows still in my arms, and I stare at her, waiting for her to move, to scream like she did when she came into this world, to do something.

But her tiny chest won’t rise.

“Jaga?” Roza’s voice isn’t terrified yet, only mildly surprised. “What’s… What’s happening?”

I can’t tear my eyes away from the little girl. She is so perfectly formed, with a tiny nose, beautifully shaped lips, and even, proportional limbs and fingers. So perfect.

If only she would breathe.

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