Page 141 of Devil's Doom

The sand under my feet seems silver, the walls black and glistening. There is no exit, no way out. Just the sandy shore stretching behind us until it meets the wall, and the water ahead, still and black. It’s the source of the heat.

“He won’t find you here,” Chors says, his voice a beautiful melody coming in sync with the splashing of water. “Would you like to bathe? The water is warm. I come here often to be alone. Not tonight, though. It’s the first time I showed this place to another person.”

I look at him with surprise. “Really? I’m honored. Say, is there a way out?”

He points at the far wall on the other side of the underground lake. “There. You swim underneath. But I’ll take you wherever you want when you ask. You don’t need to worry.”

I nod once, taking a deep breath. The air is humid and smells clean in a mineral, ancient sort of way. There are no plants here, no life. Just the water that gave life to a god and the warm, clean sand. I throw off my cloak with a sigh, then my boots. Chors watches me without moving. He seems mesmerized, or maybe scared. His arms hang loosely at his sides, fingers motionless.

“I want to ask you a favor,” I say, straightening. My clothes are still on, a shirt and a pair of trousers, but I feel almost naked. Today has whipped me raw, and all my defenses are gone. Trusting Chors requires strength of will.

He nods. “What favor?”

“Will you take me to your father? To Weles? I need to speak with him.”

His forehead creases, and he cocks his head to the side, watching me suspiciously. His fingers tap a rhythm against the side of his thigh.

“That’s your favor?” he asks, voice almost accusing. “You are strange. Why would you need my help for that?”

It’s my turn to regard him dubiously. “Well, he’s in Nawie, isn’t he?” I ask. “I don’t know how to get there.”

Chors closes his eyes for a moment, as if thinking. His face relaxes. “Oh, yes. He’s in Nawie. I understand it now. But spend time with me before you go. After all, I brought you to my secret place. Let’s swim.”

I press my lips together, glancing at the water. It beckons, but it’s also unsettling, the surface so completely black. I remember the utopek and his bottomless pond. What if this is bottomless, too? What if I drown, and keep drowning forever?

“That’s the only thing you want?” I ask, watching Chors warily. “Just—to swim?”

He shrugs, undoing his belt already. His trousers fall before he answers, revealing strong, lean legs and a thatch of dark hair nestled between his thighs. I yank my gaze away, my face heating.

“Yes. It’s safe. Swim with me.”

He extends his hand, and I bite the inside of my cheek, undoing the buttons of my shirt until I can tug it up over my head. I remember how easy it was to be naked around him the last time we met. Now, I hurt, and the urge to hide myself as my clothes come off is almost impossible to ignore. I do my best to breathe evenly, standing tall, but the rigidity of my posture must reveal my nerves.

Chors looks away to give me privacy, his eyes falling closed. He still holds his hand out, and I grasp his fingers gently. He leads me toward the water, which laps the shore faster and faster, as if in anticipation.

When his feet meet the edge of the lake, it stills completely, the final ripples splashing against the walls. And then—quiet.

“It’s warm,” he says, soft and coaxing. “Come in with me.”

I follow him more easily, exhaling in relief when my feet submerge. The water feels like the most relaxing bath, and I walk faster now, the sand fine and clean, no plants or slimy residue on the bottom. The lake seems almost sterile, and maybe that’s exactly what I need now. No hidden things. Just clean water and a god who holds my hand uncertainly, as if he doesn’t know how to.

When the water covers the tops of my breasts, I turn to him, feeling bolder. The warmth relaxes me. Despite forcing myself to breathe calmly for most of the day, only now do I take my first full, deep breath.

Chors watches me, standing close, but not overwhelmingly so. His eyes are clear, devoid of lust or anger. He looks thoughtful.

I snort under my breath. Why couldn’t I fall forthisgod? Which broken part of me wants destruction and pain, when I could have comfort and beauty instead?

“Why are you laughing?” he asks, his voice a whisper.

“Just… Wondering how different you are to some other gods I know. You’re better. Easy to be around.”

It’s his turn to snort, mischief creasing the corners of his eyes until he looks impish, like a boy preparing a prank.

“I am easy? I barely speak, and I make people impatient. You must have met some strange gods. Maybe only Dola is worse than me. She doesn’t speak at all.”

Dola. The rodzanica I met. I nod with a small smile. “I didn’t say you’re easy to understand, mind you. Just easy to be with. Your presence is comforting, just like this lake. It’s like a hug at the end of a hard day.”

He hums, closing his eyes for a moment. His unnaturally long, beautiful eyelashes fan over the sharp, silvered cheekbones. When he opens his eyes, it’s with an uncertain, speculative look.

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