Page 84 of Devil's Deal

Gods, my head is spinning. I never truly questioned how it’s possible for Wiosna to be here. At first, I thought it was my mind playing tricks, and when I accepted she’s real, the whole ordeal with the werewolf was well underway. I couldn’t focus on anything else.

Wiosna is silent. I growl, my suspicions growing.

“Why are you here and not in Nawie, Wiosna? Who sent you?”

If it’s Woland, that means I can’t trust her. My anger grows hotter, made worse by a profound feeling of helplessness. No matter how hard I try to control my life, I can’t shake the suspicion that larger powers are at play, deciding my fate for me.

“Not him, Jagusia. I know what you’re thinking, but I’d never do that. I was sent by… a friend. That’s all I can tell you. But please, believe me, I’d never do his bidding. I’m on your side. Always have been, since the day a stork landed on the roof of your mother’s house.”

“You never told me that,” I say, still suspicious but calmer. “You knew me even before I was born?”

“That stork was special,” Wiosna says. “I walked by your parents’ house that day and saw it land. It looked right at me, its gaze so meaningful. It kept ruffling its feathers and clacking loudly, like it was so excited. I knew then. That stork brought a powerful, magical soul from Wyraj. When you were born a few weeks later, I saw it in you at once. Such a peaceful baby. You didn’t cry unlike most newborns, who hate leaving their mothers’ wombs. You were quiet. It was almost like you were perfectly content being born into this world. Like you knew it was your destiny.”

I’m surprised she says that, because Wiosna was often dismissive of the lore surrounding storks. People say that a stork landing on a roof means a baby is coming. The storks are said to live in the branches of the Great Oak in Wyraj in winter, and only come to the mortal world in spring, bearing with them new souls to distribute among expecting women.

“But you said storks don’t bring souls. You said it’s bullshit people believe because most women are visibly pregnant in spring, when the storks arrive from wherever they leave to before winter.”

Wiosna huffs. “And it’s still mostly true. I never saw no stork above most houses I delivered babies in. But you were special. That’s why I believed the legends when it came to you.”

My head is spinning and I rub my temples. When that doesn’t help, I get up and pace from my door to the hearth and back. So much for my calming herbs. I don’t imagine I’ll be able to sleep until I make sense of all the things Wiosna told me.

She knows I usually need a moment of quiet to absorb new information, so she waits in silence while I think.

“All right,” I say, stopping by the cupboard where I pour myself a cup of my dewberry wine. I drink it in small sips. “Is that why you took me in as your apprentice? Because you thought I was, I don’t know, different?”

Wiosna sighs, and I think she’s relieved I’m not in a temper.

“I took you in for many reasons, but mostly because you were a quick-witted, observant child and you learned fast. It helped that no one wanted to play with you, so you had nothing better to do other than learn.”

Her direct answer coaxes a laugh out of me. Yes, that’s Wiosna at her best, honest to the bone. Her words might seem insulting, but then, I know what my childhood looked like. I don’t run from the truth of it.

“That’s reasonable if quite heartless,” I say. “Tell me about the magic sealing.”

“Very well. Remember how I told you about your first Kupala Night? Your mother came to the fire with you, and there were sparks. When I talked to her later, she said she felt an immense fear. Like there was something there, waiting to devour her baby.”

I nod, sitting down at the table. A shiver goes down my spine, because I understand exactly how my mother felt. I felt that fear, too, just a month ago. The Kupala fire is merciless.

“I realized what was happening. There was magic in you, potent and obvious, and the fire reached for it. It seemed deeply unfair and evil to me. Because it wasn’t by any fault of yours that you were born with that magic. If anyone should burn on that pyre, I’d pick the Rodzanica sisters for giving you that fate. But you were innocent, so I took you from your mother, whispered the spell, and put you to the fire trial myself. And it worked.”

I release a shaky breath, finally understanding fully what Wiosna did that night. That sealing spell was the missing piece that lets me comprehend how much she risked in saving my life. If anyone saw her doing magic, or if the spell didn’t work, she would have burned with me. I owe her everything.

“Why should I be angry that you used the spell?” I ask, getting up to pour myself more wine. Blast it, I don’t think I can get through this sober. “You saved me. I’m grateful.”

“Yes, well. That was only the first time I did it. I had to renew the spell many times until finally, I developed a more… permanent formula.”

I freeze with the cup almost to my lips. “What?”

“Well, your magic grew really strong really fast,” she says defensively, and I picture her waving her arms as she justifies herself. “That seal broke so often. Your mother came to me time and again, saying you talked to animals and they listened, that you set things on fire with a click of your tongue, and other things. Sinister things. If another child was mean to you, they would grow horrible boils or lose all their teeth overnight. It was dangerous, and so I resealed your magic every few months until I got tired.”

“I had no idea,” I mutter, looking into my cup. “I don’t remember any of it.”

“You were too young to remember. I sealed your magic for good when you were four. It stopped after that. And then you learned with me, and I had an eye on you from then on.”

I sip my wine, thinking. If what she says is true, it makes so much more sense why everyone in the village was so afraid. I thought it all stemmed from that event by the fire when I was a baby and my appearance, but to be honest, those weren’t really that significant. If children who bullied me got sick, though, that’s an entirely different story. I can see how one might get a reputation for that.

“So my magic was sealed for good then?” I ask.

Wiosna hums, not replying at once. When I make an impatient noise, she tsks at me. “Drink your wine. Good girl. Now, where was I? Ah, yes, the permanent spell. You see, you broke through it once, and that’s how I know you can do it again.”

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