Page 43 of Devil's Deal

“So, where did he go? That traveler?” Ola breaks the uncomfortable silence, her voice trembling slightly.

“Guess he didn’t want to stay after what happened,” I say through clenched teeth, wishing for the hundredth time I could see Woland again, if only to bash his head in like Przemyslaw did Bogna’s.

“Lucky you,” Ida says, her voice turning light and teasing. “You got all the cream without having to marry him after.”

I stop grinding and look up sharply. She’s smiling, her lips revealing even white teeth, and yet, there is a world of anger in her eyes. We stare at each other until she breaks the contact, scoffing as she examines her nails.

“If you hear about anyone…” I start slowly, my throat so dry, I have to break off and swallow to be able to speak. “If you hear of any man being… short… with his wife, tell her to see me. My method can fail but… It mostly works.”

Ola looks confused, but when Ida looks up, the bitter smile on her face at least reaches her eyes now.

“Will do.”

I can’t believe I just offered Ida, of all people, to keep her husband subdued the way I did Bogna’s. Ida’s not my friend, and yet, the challenging, haughty look she gives me doesn’t hide the fear underneath. I know that fear. I saw it in my friend’s eyes every time she came to me for more herbs.

I shouldn’t offer to help another woman, not after I failed so thoroughly, but the words were out of my mouth before I could think. Because if there’s anything I can do, anything at all, I’ll do it. Even for Ida.

And it’s not like I truly failed with Przemyslaw. If it weren’t for Woland and his magic, my herbs would have done the job.

I shut off that thought and sigh, getting my brass measuring spoon. I divide the herb mixture between the two bags and then reach for two pots of ointment I made in preparation for Kupala. Bogna promised to bring me clients. And in a roundabout way, she did. I swallow, my stomach cramping at the thought.

“I want the bags and pots back,” I say, handing them to each girl. “The herbs are to be boiled for a bath. Boil the brew, let it cool a bit, and sit in it until the water grows cold. Then, put the ointment on. Put it on your husband, as well.”

“On my…” Ola repeats, looking confused and wide-eyed.

“All of him? I’m afraid you gave us too little, then,” Ida says, arching her eyebrow in a mocking challenge. I’m pretty sure she knows what I mean and just wants to tease me.

I sigh in exasperation, wishing for them to be gone already. Outside, the world plunges into late dusk. I’m more than ready for my next night of nightmares.

“Put it on his cock. If he opposes, stroke him using the ointment until he comes in your hand. That should clear it up.”

Ola giggles nervously while Ida rolls her eyes, standing up. “Thank you. Make sure you have more of that on hand because I’ll send the other girls to you. Czeslawa has no idea how to treat Kupala effects.”

“Or she just wants another hen from you,” I mutter, closing the door after them.

I know from Wiosna it’s what some whisperers do to milk wealthy clients. They’ll prescribe something that won’t help only to keep the client coming back. Wiosna never did that. She always treated everyone equally.

And I do, too.

I lean back against the closed door, exhausted by that one exchange. Even the food has no appeal now as I contemplate everything I found out from Ida. The worst piece of news is that Bogna’s death seems to have somehow redeemed me in the eyes of the village people.

Wiosna would tell me to appreciate the blessing inside the curse. I just want the curse reversed, and I’ll gladly give the blessing back.

But seeing as that’s impossible, I grit my teeth and repeat the vow I made that night. One day, I will get my revenge on the devil who killed her, no matter what it costs. He will pay. I just need to grow powerful enough to challenge him.

I’m about to go out to the well for water to wash up when a piercing female scream comes from a distance. It’s loud, full of fear, and it chills me to the bone. I wait for a beat, holding my breath and hoping it’s just a fluke or a figment of my imagination.

But then, the scream repeats, even louder than the first time. A heartbeat later, another voice joins in the chorus of terror.

I tear the door open and run out into the summer night, following the screams.

Chapter fifteen

Lambs

When I arrive at Waclaw’s house, a small crowd is already gathered in front of his barn. People talk in hushed voices, throwing wary glances at the dark, quiet interior of the barn. By the door, Waclaw stands with his wife, Helena, his arm around her shaking shoulders.

I stand on tiptoes to look over the heads, but it’s too dark for me to see what’s in the barn. If the silence is any indication, no animals are there. I’m about to look for someone to wheedle answers out of when my eyes snag on four deep grooves etched into the barn’s wooden door.

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