Page 139 of Devil's Doom

The old planetnik turns away from the shelf of potions he was looking through, his brow furrowed.

“He told you?” he asks, his gray eyes narrowed in suspicion. “And you… have nothing against it?”

I smile grimly. “Nienad, I understand making sacrifices. I made many myself, believe me. It’s a devious plan, and the rot is a horrible sickness, but it’s worth it. Few suffering for the benefit of all is a small price.”

He relaxes, but his eyes are still wary. “Few is the right word. We haven’t managed to spread the illness as far as I hoped. Has Woland told you what strategies we’re considering?”

He folds his arms on his chest, and I realize with a sinking feeling he’s about to interrogate me to find out how much I truly know. I smile cooly, hoping the brief conversation I overheard and the conclusions I drew from it will be enough.

“He did. I think giving out charged eggs is your best bet, but it will have to be clever. I thought about it, and mixing good eggs with contaminated ones feels like the best way to avoid suspicions for as long as possible. You can also give the eggs to those already suffering from the rot. Maybe even focus on them, and when they pay for things, they will distribute your sickness for you without knowing.”

I hold back my breath of relief when Nienad nods, his wariness melting away. I hate giving him ideas, but once I give my soul to Weles, he will crush Woland’s movement and heal the rot. At least, I hope he will.

Weles is my only option now.

“That‘s a good idea, though it will take a long time,” Nienad says with a sigh. “I really hoped it would stick this time, you know. The formula I developed to poison the fence seemed flawless. Unfortunately, it still won’t work unless the magic going out with the tolls is contaminated, too, and for now, too few people are sick for it to work.”

I swallow, keeping my face carefully blank, even though inside, understanding rushes through me like a gale.

So that’s why they make people sick. The rot poisons a person’s magic, and Perun’s tolls harvest that magic. Nienad hopes, then, that if enough people in the city fall sick, that contamination will reach Perun.

The planetnik watches me, waiting for my reply, and I nod sharply. “You still did an incredible job,” I say, the words tasting foul on my tongue. “I know my help isn’t much, but I’m eager to do whatever it takes. I’m done watching my friends suffer and lose their limbs. Let’s win this war.”

He nods with a rare smile. “You know, I’m glad he told you. You’re more reasonable than I thought, krasnolica, and a valuable disciple. Come back tomorrow. I’ll show you the strides we made. I have three rot patients in there now, testing out a new variant of the illness. This one kills much slower but does a better job poisoning their magic. It’s the best one yet.”

I don’t move, focusing on making my exhale as slow and calm as possible, even though my mind clamors with the implications of what he said.

He infected people with the rot to test it. It’s obvious now that he said it, but somehow, I didn’t anticipate it.

They are right here, in the secret portion of the sick chamber. They’ve been here all along. Just beyond a wall.

Before the silence grows suspicious, I nod, not smiling this time. I’m all brisk seriousness, even as my heart beats faster and faster, pushing me out the door, out the rebel base, out of this city.

All of it is rotten.

“I’ll come back tomorrow, then. You have my thanks, Nienad. Your work is so important.”

He preens, puffing out his chest until his silver hair peeks out through his open collar. I smile, and he nods back, all of his suspicion gone.

Remarkable how much a woman can achieve with a sprinkling of information and a dollop of praise for a man.

I go out calmly, even though everything inside begs me to bolt.Run, and run fast.Instead, I walk at a brisk, purposeful pace, heading for a tunnel that leads to one of the exits lower down the slope of the mountain, as I remember vaguely from Lech’s tour.

The way leads through rebel quarters. It’s not very busy, and the people I meet look at me either with indifference or warmth. I don’t know if Woland wiped everyone’s memory about my involvement in anything that happened today. Maybe he did. If anything, that makes my mission easier.

When I see an open door and a heap of clothes on the floor, I use just a little of magic to make my form illusive and barely noticeable. Inside, someone sits on a bed with their back to the door, folding clothes. I snatch a cloak and keep moving. I don’t want to risk going back to Woland’s chamber.

A few twists and turns later, I find the door out. It’s unguarded, and I slip out, walking down a low, winding corridor. Finally, I’m alone. I let my breath go out of my control, faster and faster as it fuels my struggling heart.

Frantically, I think about what to do. My first choice is calling Chors and making him hide me somewhere Woland won’t look while I beg him to take me to Weles. But what if he doesn’t appear?

I don’t know how to cross the lethal river guarding the way to Nawie. Wyraj is beyond the uncrossable fence. My only escape is the forest. I curse myself for never making the time to learn how to cross back to the mortal world. I could hide there, and much better than in Slawa. I know many bieses go there, just like the rusalkas I met who fed on human life force.

But it’s a moot point. My best bet is Chors.

I come out of the tunnels through a dilapidated building in a poor part of the city. It’s night, and few lights are on in the houses I pass. Between the buildings, I see the glittering river. I head there.

The sky is overcast, starless and moonless. There’s just enough light, gray and scattered through the bulky snow clouds, to let me see my way. I am breathless, running now, but it’s clumsy and slow. I finger Woland’s ring, bracing for the pain.

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