Page 124 of Devil's Doom

But then, Woland’s promises are his own to keep. If he doesn’t,that’snot my fault.

Except, hasn’t he tried to bring his people the victory they all want? Hasn’t he done everything in his might to coax, cajole, threaten, and force me?

Does it mean he’s cruel? Or a good leader? My head pounds with the impossibility of trying to figure him out.

The walk up the stairs winds me, and I’m breathless and sweaty by the time I emerge into the cold, clear day in the city. My cloak is folded in my bag, and I take it out, swaddling myself in the warm wool. It’s not noon yet, but the streets are busy despite the early hour. The toll must have rolled through the land in the early morning.

I grip the edges of my cloak and rush to the milk bar, stinting myself even a bit of magic for warmth. Other people walk like me, fast, their eyes cast down on the uneven cobbles slick with ice. I almost slip a few times before relenting. I send a tiny spell to the soles of my shoes, making their grip better.

On my way, I pass two dragons, their strides long and angry as they throw harsh looks around. Neither stops me, but their presence in the streets makes the air feel tight and anxious. Normally, they don’t patrol the streets on foot, preferring to guard the city from the air. The guard must be on high alert since our fight yesterday.

The milk bar isn’t busy yet, just a handful of patrons sitting at tables and sipping from mamunas who chat with each other, exchanging gossip. As soon as the door closes behind me, I let myself relax, drinking in the warmth and the familiar, sweet scent of breast milk hanging heavy in the air.

This feels like home. It’s the first place that offered me security in Slawa. It’s where I tried to build my magical life, independent and free of Woland’s shadow.

A part of me misses those days with heart-rending longing.

“Alina, dear! Welcome!” Zlotomira rushes to me from her place behind the bar, her bare breasts bouncing with quick steps. “Or should I call you Jaga now? Sit down, dear. What would you like to drink? Wine? Ale? Or maybe Kata?”

She waves her hand toward a free mamuna, a young one with bright blue eyes and pink nipples. She smiles, and I smile back.

“Just nettle brew, I think. I haven’t slept much.”

“Oh, of course!” Zlotomira’s voice drops down to a whisper. “So it’s true? The rebels attacked the fence last night?”

I know from Draga Zlotomira is sympathetic to Woland’s cause, so I nod, looking around furtively. No one appears to listen to our conversation. An upir and a small, dark-haired girl with old eyes, who’s probably a cicha, are busy drinking their milk.

Still, this isn’t a safe space to speak.

“Could we talk somewhere private?” I ask quietly. “I need your advice on a rather sensitive matter.”

Her eyes light up with a warm smile. Zlotomira likes nothing more than secrets and being asked for advice.

“Of course, dear! Come, we can go into my office. It’s very private. So much magic is woven into those walls.”

I follow her to the back of the bar. Just as we go into the comfortable room equipped with a sitting area, a desk, and two tall cupboards, a young serving girl leaves a tray with food, my brew and a beer for Zlotomira. I take off my cloak and sit on a sturdy stool, taking a deep breath.

As I gather my thoughts, my eyes wander, taking in the white-washed walls covered with tapestries woven from orange, pink, and purple wool. They make the space cozy. A small fire crackles merrily in the hearth.

I have no idea if I did the right thing coming here, but the mamuna was the only trustworthy person I could think of. I wish I could speak to Wiosna, but she’s locked far away in Nawie. And calling on Chors again is out of the question—Woland would find me just like the last time.

I don’t trust him, but I don’t want to hurt him.

“Can I speak freely?” I ask when Zlotomira blinks at me with her bright, curious eyes.

She nods. “Call on Weles for all I care. My office is safe from spies.”

I nod with a breath of relief. I already knew she was dependable when she spoke up to the dragon who wanted to rape Rada. Now I see she doesn’t mince words.

“I need you to be honest with me. What do you think will happen if the rebels win?”

She blinks, surprised. I think she expected a personal matter, and not a hypothetical discussion about the rebellion, but if she’s disappointed, she doesn’t show it.

“Well, I do not think the rebels have a chance of winning. It’s been going on for centuries, dear, and they made no headway. Perun is too powerful. The only one who can challenge him is his brother, but he gave up long ago. The devil is clever, I’ll give him that, and he’s managed to put up resistance for a long time. But if it came to a duel between him and Perun, he’d lose.”

I cock my head to the side. “I thought you supported the rebellion. Why support a movement that can’t win?”

“Because what the dragons do to us is not right! Someone has to fight and resist, if only to show them that.”

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