Page 18 of Devil's Doom

As I press my lips shut to keep all my wrathful words behind clenched teeth, the upir raises a mocking brow, his fangs peeking out in a smile of approval.

“Look at that tree,” he says mildly, pointing out a young oak on the right. “Isn’t it splendid? Look closely.”

I’m about to tell him our tour is over and I will kill him if he approaches me again, but the odd question makes me hesitate. Intrigued, I squint at the oak.

There’s nothing unusual about it. The leaves are just beginning to turn yellow, sunlight bathing them in gold. Small, brown birds hop between the branches. One sits on a leafless, dry branch, as still as a corpse. Its black eyes are turned on us.

I look at it a moment longer, unease making me shiver. It reminds me of another bird I saw—the ancestral soul Rod came to take away when I sat on a dead villager’s wake. Just like this bird, it looked soulless, as if devoid of a will of its own.

Woland told me ancestral souls are devices put into most mortals at birth to thwart their magic and make them hate Weles, among other things. Unlike most, I was born without one.

“Remember what I said about those quaint pots you asked about?” Lech ambles closer, his hands clasped elegantly behind his back. “It seems we could do with a pot just about now. Let’s go inside, and I’ll show you Perun’s magnificent grove.”

My head spins as I follow him, trying to remember what it was about the pots. They were protection against birds, and one other thing…

And then, I have it.Spies.As I glance back at the eerie bird, which still follows us with its lifeless eyes, I think that maybe those two are one and the same.

Maybe even the trees have ears in Slawa.

Chapter eight

Dragon

The walls of the fortress are so tall, I need to crane my neck to see the top. It’s built of blindingly white stone, brilliant in the sun. I suppose it’s not truly a fortress, since it has no doors, just a wide arch leading inside the inner courtyard.

“Perun’s temple,” Lech says, sweeping his arm in a flamboyant gesture. “A token of his great power.”

We go down a wide corridor, our steps echoing against the walls. When we emerge, I stifle a gasp of surprise.

The inner courtyard is a grove, green and verdant. Tall oaks and slender birches sway in the wind, enormous blue and purple flowers filling the air with fragrant scents. I look around in awe, though I don’t fully enjoy the beautiful space. It seems incongruent with what I know about Perun—the god who doesn’t mind that children die because of him every day.

“It’s beautiful,” I say, strolling down the path with Lech.

“Yes. The most glorious oaks in all of Slawa grow here. Only those in Wyraj are more majestic. You know, legend has it, Perun can appear wherever an oak grows. So if he wants to pay us a visit, this is where he will come. Now, look up.”

We stop in a small clearing. I follow Lech’s gaze to the top of the nearest wall, flinching when I notice the enormous, scaly beast sitting on top.

“D-dragon,” I say under my breath, my hands suddenly sticky with sweat.

I saw a dragon once, but he was in his human form at the time. This one is completely beastly, bluish silver scales covering him from the tip of his muzzle to the end of his tail glittering with sharp spikes. He has gray leathery wings folded on his back, his huge body balancing effortlessly on top of the wide wall that he grips with razor-sharp, gleaming talons.

Suddenly, his wings snap open in a smooth, robust motion, and I step back with a sharp breath, awed by their wide span. The beast stretches, his neck elongating as he opens his maw in a yawn.

Next thing I know, his talons tighten even more until dust falls off the wall. The dragon braces and takes off, the massive bulk taking to the air like it’s a weightless, slender swallow.

“Take a deep breath and crouch,” Lech murmurs.

Still shocked and terrified, I do exactly as he says. I just manage to lower myself to the ground when the grasses around me fall flat, the world growing utterly silent. At the next moment, my breath is torn from my lungs as the toll rips through my body, robbing me of some of my magic by force.

I look up in time to see Lech grimace as he leans against a tree, his body rigid.

“How… How did you know it would happen?” I ask, gasping in shallow breaths.

Lech shakes his head, his eyes closed, his sharp teeth bared from pain. His pale, freckled complexion of a redhead goes pasty until he looks sick, beads of sweat glittering on his tense forehead. I roll to my feet, my pain already fading, and go to his side.

“Do you need help?” I ask brusquely, laying my palm on his sweaty nape to check his temperature. “Is it the usual pain or something else?”

He groans, pressing a hand to his chest, his long, slender fingers shaking.

---