Page 85 of Devil's Deal

I straighten, shaking my head. “When? I don’t remember anything of the kind.”

“Don’t you? You were twelve. It was the day when your eyes changed color. Things like that don’t happen naturally, which you very well know. Then, after you came back from the woods with that scar on your belly, and your three biggest bullies disappeared for good, I knew something magical must have happened. No offense, but there’s no way you could have hurt them with those two scrawny sticks you called your arms. So I sealed you again when you were asleep. And from then on, your magic didn’t reappear.”

“So… You know? What happened that night?” I ask warily. I never told Wiosna about it. I didn’t tell anyone, but who knows what kind of knowledge she gleaned in the afterlife.

“I suspect but don’t know anything. You never told me, remember? But if you want to, I’ll be happy to listen. There is no shame in defending yourself.”

So she thinks I was the one who killed Jaromir, Daga, and Miroslaw? It’s bewildering, because I was twelve and completely defenseless, and yet… I did kill them. At least, a version of me did.

I consider telling Wiosna what really happened but decide not to. She says it’s safe to talk, because Woland is busy with something, but what if there are ways for him to listen she doesn’t know about? Also, who is this friend that let Wiosna come into the mortal world and watch over me? I’m not about to share my biggest secret if I don’t know it’s completely safe.

I shake my head.

“Fair enough. So, do you feel like screaming? If you do, put some cloth in your mouth beforehand. That should muffle the sound.”

I smile despite myself, charmed by Wiosna’s practicality. “I don’t want to scream. I think I need to think about it all. Somehow put it together so it makes sense to me.”

“Well, you were always good at that. Making broken pieces fit together. It’s why I always left bone setting to you.”

I smile at the praise, but my head is spinning with it all. Also, the herbs and wine are working, because finally, I feel sleepy. I hope I’ll be able to rest. But before I lie down, I just want to know one more thing.

“Do you know what he’s doing?” I ask, playing with the hem of my apron. “Woland?”

She releases a long-suffering sigh. “Oh, Jaga. You better put him out of your mind and focus on the important things.”

I grit my teeth. “Like what?”

There’s glee and determination in her voice when she says, “Unlocking your magic and giving that bitch, Czeslawa, what she deserves.”

I want to pout but can’t when she puts it like that. From her voice, I know Wiosna is grinning, and I grin back.

That I can do.

Chapter twenty-eight

Woman

The next two days go by in a flurry of work. I sew, gather herbs, and see clients. My popularity after the werewolf attack is still strong due to the lack of other exciting news. I make a point to be seen out and about, even attending Przemyslaw’s burial, in which his charred bones are laid in a deep hole, his skull put into a separate grave to ensure he doesn’t rise again.

It’s in the morning, and few people attend. Most men and many women are already in the meadows and fields, working since dawn. The weather is too nice not to make advantage of it. The burial is for those wealthy enough to have others work on their land or those who earn their keep in other ways, like me.

Jarota has picked out a plot by the forest, far outside the village, and yet people murmur it’s too close for comfort. So I suggest a hawthorn hedge be planted around it, not because I believe Przemyslaw’s bones will magically grow flesh and teeth again, but because having a protection to rely on will reassure everyone.

That’s whispering, too. Giving villagers ways to feel secure in the scary, dangerous world. Also, hawthorn really works. After all, I use it myself.

When I give the advice, Czeslawa sends me a venomous look. Despite my new popularity, she doesn’t look any worse for wear, her clothes still of great quality, her figure well-fed, skin fresh. She looks too good for my liking. I really should get on with punishing her for trying to kill me.

When everyone goes backs to the village after the burial, I deliberately walk close by Ida, giving her a meaningful look. She smiles and sends her friends ahead, claiming she has a personal matter to discuss with me.

“I hear you’re getting a lot of business these days,” she says without preamble, sounding glad about it.

That’s exactly what I want to talk about.

“It’s getting busy,” I confirm. “I’ll gather herbs for beauty potions later today, when the sun is high, and my indigestion tonic seems to be very helpful. But I wonder how Czeslawa fares these days. Do you know anything?”

Of course she does, and of course she wants my beauty potion. That’s why I mentioned it. Ida’s shrewd eyes light up, her full mouth curving into a knowing smirk.

“Many people are loyal to her,” she says, lowering her voice when a couple of villagers pass us on the grassy path. “She doesn’t want for anything, that’s for sure, and people still go to her with the big things. You know my friend, Ola? Well, she’s pregnant and she wanted to see you about it, but her mother-in-law forbade it. She said Czeslawa is more experienced and the true whisperer.”

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