Page 45 of Devil's Deal

“A tragedy happened in this barn,” he continues, his eyes jumping from face to face. I feel the tension as people wait for him to say what killed the animals. The air buzzes with it. “Waclaw lost over a dozen lambs that were locked here for the night.”

I gasp, my eyes growing wide while people around me murmur, their voices deeply unsettled. A dozen lambs killed in the short time it must have taken after locking them up is bad enough, but if the barn was locked, it means something else, too.

A bear or a wolf couldn’t have undone the padlock.

I look up quickly to assess the barn’s door, but the hinges look intact. My heart beats fast with worry while the zerca continues.

“The gods haven’t revealed yet what animal or beast it was,” he says, swallowing nervously. “The barn reeks of blood and death, so it’s understandable the gods will not speak in there.”

I roll my eyes. I know at least one god who’d enjoy conversing with the zerca over a heap of steaming entrails. He would even lick the blood off the floor if he got thirsty.

“But I will pray and augur tomorrow. I’m confident we will have answers then. One thing is certain: the beast had its fill for tonight and shouldn’t be back. Even so, be sure to lock up your animals and children at night. The whisperer may be able to offer protective herbs for those who ask.”

He bows solemnly and turns to Waclaw. They talk in hushed voices while Helena nods at Czeslawa and turns to me. She beckons, so I brace myself and come over, wondering what it’s about.

“Good evening, Jaga,” Helena says, her eyes wide and fearful as she takes me in.

I nod in reply, putting on a polite smile. While never a friend, Helena usually treated me with cool indifference. She didn’t go out of her way to spit on my doorstep, so I decide to be cordial. Especially after what happened to her family.

They lost a large chunk of their wealth tonight.

“So, Czeslawa tells me the ritual of cleaning…” Helena stops, swallowing thickly. Sweat beads on her forehead, small wet curls sneaking from underneath her kerchief. She takes a deep breath and straightens, controlling herself. “The ritual of cleaning the barn is… expensive when she does it. But you’re only learning, so she suggested you could do it… cheaply.”

“Huh.” I didn’t expect anything like this, so I just stare at them both, waiting for an explanation. Because one thing is certain: if Czeslawa wants to give me her business, it’s not out of the goodness of her heart.

Maybe she is too lazy to do the work, I think, my lip curling.

“Careful,” Wiosna cautions, her voice a whisper in my ear. I manage not to flinch. “She’s a cunning vixen, that one. And I see your scorn, but she’s not lazy. She works very hard for the right payment.”

I don’t answer Wiosna, conscious enough of the fact no one hears her but me, yet everyone hears my voice. Having people think I talk to spirits is the last thing I need right now.

When I don’t speak, Czeslawa puts on a fake smile.

“Of course, after you’re done with the more mundane cleanup, I will come and smoke the space to put in protections and such. This is, of course, more advanced, so a mere apprentice like yourself can’t do it, you understand.”

Bullshit. I was ready to take over as the whisperer when Wiosna died. I’m no longer an apprentice, and I won’t be treated as such.

I smile sweetly, my mind whirring as I try to decide what to do.

One thing is certain: I won’t let Czeslawa make me her scapegoat if her protections fail, which is what she’s trying to do here. It’s obvious now.

What a cowardly way for a whisperer to behave.

I loathe the way she does things. The whisperer cottage that was supposed to go to me after Wiosna’s death is big and comfortable, with a large room for receiving patients and two more rooms for the whisperer to live and work.

But it’s not enough for Czeslawa. As soon as she moved in, she had a large, ugly shed for patients built behind the house. Unlike the cottage, the building is cheaply made and badly insulated. Her patients must feel uncomfortable there, but she’d rather let them suffer then bring them into the house where she lives.

She’s crafty and devoted to her comfort. Right now, she wants to get paid for the ritual but doesn’t want the responsibility that comes with it. It’s lazy, irresponsible whispering. She obviously doesn’t feel capable of keeping the bies from returning.

“You see now?” Wiosna asks. “Don’t let her use you.”

“No,” I say simply, giving Czeslawa a cool nod. “I’m sorry for your loss,” I say, turning to Helena. “I hope Czeslawa keeps you safe so you don’t have to experience it again.”

The whisperer gives me a look so venomous, I would flinch if my heart was fainter. Helena wrings her hands, shaking her head.

“But I can’t afford… With all the lambs gone, we have no way to pay for…” Her voice grows thin, tears springing to her eyes as she gives Czeslawa a pleading look.

I’m about to walk away but white hot fury makes me turn. The whisperer meets my gaze with a haughty expression, and I sneer.

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