Page 153 of Devil's Doom

I look around, bewildered, but we’re alone. Woland watches me with a slight frown.

“You owe me a favor, and I came to collect,” she speaks again, a trill of laughter in her voice.

“Did you hear that?” I ask, slowly rising to my feet as something squirms inside me, like foreign magic wrapping around my ribs.

He shakes his head. “What did you hear?”

“Just a moment, little girl. Tricky, tricky. He put you deep in the earth. But earth listens to me.”

“A woman,” I say, breathless, turning in a circle to spot her, but if she is here, she’s invisible. “She says I owe her a favor…”

“Yes, you do,” she confirms in a singsong voice. “You promised me anything I asked if I saved you. What I want is for you to let my magic carry you out. Only that. Here’s my favor, repaid.”

More magic wraps around me, itching and warm. Woland’s mouth tightens, and he leaps up, his nostrils flaring wide as he scents the air. I smell it, too. Rosemary. Cherries.

Summer.

“Come, sweet child.”

Suddenly, everything is green. I gaze around, disoriented. The world around me looks like the canopies of trees in summer, with golden sparks of the sun dancing between the leaves. The air I breathe smells of hay and herbs, and it’s warm and balmy, yet I clutch my blanket to my chest in fear.

It’s all I have. My magic has barely replenished with no food or sleep. I’m defenseless.

When the greenery fades away, I see a strange sight. It was winter in Slawa, but I stand in the middle of a clearing, green with grass and wildflowers. Twilight paints the sky, and the air is chilly, but not as cold as it was in Slawa.

Above me, a bird trills once, sad and longing. I shiver.

“Nice of you to come.”

I whirl around. Mokosz stands behind me, her hair tied into two thick braids that trail down to her waist. She’s wearing a blue dress today, low-cut. The hem swings around her knees as she walks toward me, her generous bosom bouncing with every step.

Mokosz.She knows about me, just like everyone else, and Chors’ words ring fresh in my mind.They would be very cruel to you if they knew.

The goddess smiles, serene and friendly, but as she comes toward me, I stumble back in terror until a low growl has me turning fast.

Three dragons in their half-human forms bar my way, two silver ones, one blue. I don’t know them, and it’s clear they aren’t here to help me. I turn back to Mokosz, my palms growing sweaty, heart hammering sickly.

“What do you want?” I ask.

“Just to talk,” she says with an innocent smile, cold sparkles playing in her blue eyes. “I need to confirm some gossip, and you owe me a favor.”

I shake my head. “I never made a deal with you. We never even spoke.”

She laughs knowingly, shaking her finger in gentle rebuke.

“Wrong, little witch. You prayed. I saved your life. And you promised me anything in return. See, I like gathering favors like flowers. Whenever I need something, one comes in handy, and this one was the most fortuitous of all. Poor Woland locked you up in Weles’ cursed dungeon, thinking no one would find you there. Ah, to see him now! He must be so angry!”

She trills with laughter that sounds birdlike and melodic. At a wave of her hand, flowers lift from the meadow, twining with my hair. I try to swat them away, but more and more come, until I’m wearing a fragrant crown of poppies, chamomile, and cornflowers. When I start pulling them out of my hair, a whip cracks behind me. I turn with a fearful gasp, and one of the dragons cracks it again, a tangle of thin, leather ropes weighed with metal balls hissing through the air.

“You cannot refuse my gift, it’s impolite,” Mokosz says with a soft laugh. “And? Does it remind you of anything?”

I finger the flowers, not trying to remove them again. When my touch falls on the thin, delicate petals of a poppy, I suddenly understand what she’s talking about. My lips fall open, and Mokosz nods with a satisfied sigh.

It feels like it happened an eternity ago. That Kupala Night I met Woland, I wore an enchanted chaplet. When I came over to the blessed Kupala fire, the flames leapt at me, trying to devour the forbidden magic I wore on my head.

In the privacy of my mind, I prayed. I prayed desperately. I offered the gods anything they might want, if only they saved me from the flames. And someone did. I came away unscathed, even though I deserved to burn.

“It was you?” I ask, shaking my head in disbelief. “Did you already know who I was?”

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