Page 15 of Devil's Doom

When the smell of hot food tickles my nose, I crack my eye open, taking in the room. It’s small but comfortable, with a large, double bed covered by a quilt embroidered with vividly green ferns. Under a small window hidden behind a thick green curtain sits a sturdy table. The pristine white tablecloth resting on top is embroidered with emerald thread. More importantly, the table is laden with food, three fat beeswax candles filling the room with golden light.

A metal tub that might actually fit me sits opposite the bed, the water steaming. As I watch, a small stool with a comb laid out on top of a folded piece of cream fabric pops out of thin air by the tub. I gasp softly, then grin. Even my exhaustion can’t temper my delight.

Because this place is magical.

Magic happens right in the open, people trading it in shops and using it freely, without fearing banishment or the wrath of gods. It seems whatever rules Perun gave mortals, they don’t apply to the citizens of Slawa.

Small tendrils of hope spread through my heart, my throat suddenly tight with an unfamiliar though pleasant emotion. I focus on it, smiling to myself, until I realize that what I feel isbelonging.Finally, there is a place where I fit in. And it doesn’t matter I know almost nothing about Slawa—my yearning heart already decided it’s home.

I heave myself up to my feet with a groan and wash my hands and face in the hot water. It feels so good, I sigh in bliss. A pot of soap sits in a clay jar, suspended in a small metal basket at the edge of the tub. It smells strongly of roses, and the scent stays on my skin after I rinse it off. I cannot wait to lie in the tub, but the food beckons first.

The dishes are made of dark red clay, their edges decorated with simple patterns that match. There is a large bowl filled with cabbage stew, a side plate laden with roast carrots and thick cuts of meat dripping with butter, and another one with a tall stack of dark bread slices. A large cup and a jug complete the setup. I take a sniff and raise my eyebrows at the dark red, acidic drink. Fermented beetroot juice.

Even though my stomach grumbles, I still force myself to eat slowly because I’d actually cry if I threw this up. Every bite makes me moan in pleasure, maybe because hunger is the best seasoning, or maybe because Slawa’s food is superb.

The bath is another delightful experience, since the water hasn’t cooled even a bit throughout my supper. Magic must keep it hot, and I whisper thanks to Zlotomira under my breath as I soak my tired bones in the fragrant bath.

With my last strength, I wash my dress in the bathwater. When I finally roll into bed, the first rooster crows, announcing the dawn. Finally safe and indoors, I fall asleep within seconds.

I wake up in the dark to a bell ringing somewhere in the room. I roll out of bed, falling on the floor with a thud. I’m groggy, my eyes refusing to open. Someone knocks on my door firmly, and I groan, walking blindly toward the sound.

“Who’s there?”

“It’s Zlotomira, dear,” comes her muffled voice. “If you want to stay another night, you need to pay.”

I take a moment to check in with my stores of magic. They feel comfortable, though not full. There must have been another toll during the day that I slept through.

“I’ll be right out,” I mumble, going back to the table, where I left my eye patch. I tie it hastily around my head and go back to the door. Zlotomira looks up with a pleasant smile, extending a basket with three eggs toward me. Her graying gold hair is braided today, the braids wrapped around her head in a splendid crown.

“You haven’t eaten your breakfast, by the way,” she chides me, wagging her finger. “We don’t give refunds for uneaten food.”

I nod, blinking fast to chase sleep from my eyes. “Thank you. Ah, and for the dress, too. It’s lovely.”

I wore the new dress to bed for lack of another garment. It’s long and simple, its neckline embroidered with ferns and silver flowers that actually glimmer. I think it’s even prettier than my mother’s poppy dress, the one I wore to Kupala Night back home.

“It suits you. Tell you what, make the eggs crack again, and I’ll throw in a pair of shoes. You have good magic, girl. Good currency. Stay as long as you want, and Mama will take care of you, hm?”

I cough in surprise, my unfocused gaze straying to her large breasts dripping milk. Mama, indeed. “Oh… Yes to the shoes. Thank you. The room is very comfortable.”

All three eggs crack, filled to the brim with my magic. Zlotomira gives me a pleased grin and leaves, and I stumble back inside. The candles light as soon as I close the door. I use a clay chamber pot that sits by the bed and watch its contents disappear at once. Gods, I love magic.

Soon, another supper arrives with another hot bathtub, and I eat my fill and bathe, then go back to bed. The candles go out when I fall asleep.

The next morning, I finally feel rested. As soon as I open the curtains, my breakfast arrives, accompanied by a jug of water and a shallow basin that I use to wash my face. I gulp down buttered bread, scrambled eggs, and a small dish of the sweetest cream with a handful of raspberries, washing it all down with a mint brew sweetened with honey. My hair thoroughly combed and braided, I don my new shoes, which are made of leather so supple, it’s like a caress for my battered feet.

As I come out and lock up, a crimson door down the corridor opens. Lech comes out, his lips stained red. I freeze, and he gives me an indolent smile, licking his fangs obscenely.

“Look who finally woke up,” he drawls, eyeing my clenched fists with a smirk. “Now, that’s better, darling. You’ve washed off the remnants of the dye at your hairline and now your hair looks completely natural.”

I release a startled breath, gripping my key. I decided to leave my knife behind so as not to call even more attention to myself, but that was clearly a mistake.

The upir laughs under his breath, ambling over while he fixes his hair that’s a bit disheveled.

“Don’t come near me,” I growl, taking a step back. “Or I swear, I’ll cut off your head and bury it far away from the rest of you.”

He snorts, shooting me an amused glance. “You’ve got lots to learn, one-eyed girl. For example, we don’t do any killing here until after the toll. You might overtax yourself and then die, and let me tell you, perishing from the lack of magic is a sad, pitiful death.”

“Not as sad as losing your head.”

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