Page 54 of Devil's Deal

I nod curtly, doing my best not to look pleased about her excitement. Unlike Wiosna, I can’t fully enjoy it now, because my feverish urgency overshadows everything else. The moon will rise soon and the beast will come hunting.

And yet, I know I’ll relive this moment later in my mind. Many, many times. It’s heady to feel these people’s need for me, to have their utter trust and confidence. They promise me the world because they believe my protections will save them.

“Well, well, poppy girl. You’ve done well turning a profit for yourself. Better hope your little whispering magics don’t fail, hm?”

I shudder, doing my best to ignore Woland’s mocking voice. I hand out the pouches with quick explanations about how to use them. Those who have a set of four race away to bury them fast, and soon, my hands are empty, the crowd in front of my cottage disappointed and frightened.

“Go, take your families, and hide with those whose houses are protected. You can stay with Waclaw, Roza, Ida and Janek, Kalina…”

I recite the names of those who got my pouches, and people quickly decide among themselves who will go where. They nod and hasten away, some saying distracted goodbyes, some in silence. I am left alone on the threshold of my cottage, the warm evening wind blowing through my skirts.

For long minutes, I just stand there, waiting and watching. Shouts and talk resound in the village, people preparing for the bies. Darobor’s voice carries in the wind, too distant to understand the words, but the tone of command is clear.

In the east, the reddish face of the full moon emerges from behind the line of black trees. It’s night. And the werewolf will soon hunt.

“Wiosna?” I mutter under my breath. “Are you here?”

It’s the first time I address her directly, believing it’s really her. I was so convinced she was just a figment of my imagination, I didn’t have the courage to engage with her, fearing it would plunge me deeper into madness.

But now I’m starting to think she’s real. And if so, I need her.

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world, dear girl,” she says with a satisfied huff.

It’s the same sound she’d make when she told me the freshest gossip. Wiosna loved excitement and she knew all the secrets that went on in the village. I relax slightly, though I don’t like the fact she treats this situation like juicy gossip.

“Do you think the men have a chance against the werewolf?” I whisper, giving voice to my biggest doubt.

Because if they don’t slay the beast, no amount of protection will save this village. I know from the folktales werewolves haunt their places of origin until no one’s left alive. So, if I want to avoid having to ask Woland for help, I might have to fight the beast myself.

That’s the biggest cause of my uncertainty.

I might be a great runner and a decent whisperer, but I am no fighter. I wield a knife with confidence only when cutting herbs.

“It’s the only thing they are useful for, isn’t it?” Wiosna scoffs. “They’d better kill it. Oh, and Jaga? Remember a bite from a werewolf doesn’t spread the curse. I’ll just bet it’s the kind of idiotic bit of lore Czeslawa believes.”

That piques my interest. Wiosna never told me anything about the bites being infectious.

“How does one become a werewolf, exactly?” I ask.

In the tales it was always a curse, but what kind? I suspect this werewolf is Woland’s creation—that’s what the devil implied, anyway. I don’t know if I can trust him, though. Any of the gods who came to our Kupala celebrations could have cursed Przemyslaw, as far as I know.

And I know little, as it turns out.

“A werewolf is a rare type of bies in that it’s made from a living person,” Wiosna says in her teaching voice. My lips tip up in a fond smile. I missed that tone. “It’s usually someone who committed a great evil and became doomed while still alive.”

“But who makes it happen?” I ask, frustrated.

“A god. Someone powerful enough. Someone who rules over life and death.”

She falls quiet, and I listen closely to the sounds of the night. It’s calmer now, most people hidden in their homes, though I doubt many will sleep tonight. I see the glow of a torch moving beyond a neighbor’s garden. The men are patrolling.

“Don’t underestimate him,” she suddenly says, and I’m confused whom she means until she adds, “He is truly powerful if he can send a living person to damnation. And he did that just for folly, Jaga. He wants you very much.”

“But why?” I groan, clenching my fists. “There is nothing special about me. Why would Wol… why would he be so interested in me?”

Wiosna is quiet, but I don’t expect her to answer. Instead, I climb on a rickety stool in front of my cottage so I can see better. My land is protected, so the werewolf shouldn’t be able to come in. Yet, I’m still uneasy. Those protections haven’t been tested.

What if Woland is right? What if they fail?

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