Page 2 of Devil's Doom

When Woland took my virginity and broke through the seal, I felt the inferno of power buzzing amidst the whirling pain. Now? There’s barely a hum.

Still, I try to call it forth to warm myself, and pangs of pain tear into my chest and gut. I feel empty, starved for food and energy, and that makes me think I overextended myself.

Hopefully, that’s the reason. But a thought keeps nagging at the back of my mind, like a horrible itch. What if the seal isn’t truly broken? Or what if I spent all my magic at once, and there is no more for me?

What if I’m truly mortal—now that I’ve landed myself in the most dangerous of all worlds?

It’s not just that this place wasn’t made for mortals. Slawa is ravaged by a war.

My exhaustion gives way to true fear. Have I lost my magic? No, I can’t have. And I will prove it to myself once and for all.

I stop when I notice a thick, fallen branch. Gritting my teeth, I call on that hum of magic and focus, asking the branch to become a weapon. It’s difficult to gather my thoughts, so I make up a rhyme to better direct my intent.

“Be a blade that makes foes bleed,

Let me cut them down and flee.”

Pain tears through my hands, sweat dripping down my nose, but I hold the vision of a knife and let the power flow from my heart, down my fingers, and into the branch. For a moment, nothing happens, and then, the nature of the wood in my hands changes. It grows cold. Like metal.

Darkness swirls in my head, and next thing I know, I’m down on my knees, my sweat dripping into the dry pine needles. When I catch my breath, biting back a moan, I gently feel the branch.

My heart stops for a moment when I feel rough wood under my fingers.It didn’t work.

But then, I feel further along the branch. My fingers touch metal. It’s a crude weapon, but a weapon still. It seems like the narrow blade grows out directly from the branch, as if it’s organic and not man-made.

It’s a proper blade, though. One edge is sharp enough to cut my finger, and it ends in a pointy tip. The blade is a bit longer than my forearm.

Despite the bone-deep exhaustion and pain, despite my wounds, I laugh silently, my teeth bared in triumph. My power is still here, and it’s incredible.

I am magical.

Truly, my power is greater than I ever suspected. I did the unthinkable: I bound the devil’s blood, shackling it into an amulet that won’t allow him to find me. And then, when he chased me, furious because I foiled his plans, I threw him back.

I laugh harder, and my body shakes with mirth as I remember how he looked, flying helplessly into a cluster of ferns.

Idid that. I bested the devil.

There is a loud, eerie creak, and my smile flees, replaced by a frightened gasp. But it’s only the pine towering above me, jutting higher into the sky than any tree back home. The upper half moves gently in the light wind, and that’s the cause of the creaking.

It’s just a pine,I tell myself, trying to calm my frantic heart as I scramble to my feet, clutching my weapon in my sweaty fist.

Even though it sounds like the hinges of a nightmarish doorway.It’s just a pine.

When I reach the top of the hill and glimpse the sharp, downward curve of the path ahead, I stop to catch my breath. The forest floor here is dry and pleasant, fallen pine needles making a soft carpet for my weary feet.

I lean against the nearest tree and try to calm my breathing, but it’s harsh and swift, my heart beating unevenly. I’ve overtaxed myself in many ways, and my dry throat and rumbling stomach let me know I’m in need of food and drink.

“Such a beautiful forest must be fed by a river, hm?” I say under my breath, stroking the pine bark soothingly, as if it’s the tree that needs comforting, not my racing heart. “And what do your animals eat? I’m so hungry, I wouldn’t say no to a fat worm. If you can spare one.”

I wonder if that’s the answer. Maybe I should dig in the ground like a chicken, hoping Slawa’s soil teems with edible life. Eating earthworms gritting with sand doesn’t sound appealing, but what’s even less pleasant is the thought of starving to death.

I might have run from the devil and thrown him with my magic, but I am no fool. This isn’t over, and after what I did, he’s likely furious. I don’t want to think what he might do.

Better not find out.

A hollow thud makes me jolt. I trip and stumble, trying to run, when something cool touches my aching foot. There’s another thud. I freeze, listening. Nothing moves in the greenery, and there are no animal grunts or hisses.

Slowly, my heart bursting with urgency, I bend to grab the cool thing that rolled up to my foot.

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