Page 23 of Devil's Doom

The eatery is a warren of corridors and rooms underground, fitted with non-matching tables and benches, the only windows small and placed high. They are dirty, but I just make out the feet of people going about their day on the street above us. The place has the cool, underground smell of damp stone and earth, and I breathe it in with gratitude. So much better than the hot, dusty air outside.

Lech picks a small room with just one table, a fat candle burning in the middle. He pulls a chain by the door, and the tinkling of a bell comes from afar. A harried-looking being arrives a moment later. Lech exclaims in welcome, while I take in the odd creature.

They are short, and if we stood side by side, the top of their cone-shaped hat made of straw would reach my shoulder. The creature has alert, black eyes, long arms covered in soft, black down, and a red beak instead of a nose and mouth. Their head is altogether very birdlike. They wear a simple shirt and an apron embroidered with wheat stalks.

“Long time no see, Lech,” they say in a lilting voice that I think sounds feminine. “The usual for you?”

“I’ll have the magic-infused kind if you have it,” he says with a charming grin. “And my friend here would like Marika’s special, whatever it is.”

When I object to him choosing my food, he wags his finger. “Trust me, darling. It will be delicious.”

The beaked creature leaves, and Lech gives me a long, amused look.

“What?” I hiss, too tired for games.

“I’m waiting for you to ask what she was. Come on, I know you’re curious.”

“I thought it was rude.”

Lech laughs, turning so his back is against the wall, his long legs sprawled in front of him on the bench. He heaves a sigh of pleasure.

“It’s only rude when you ask people to their faces. Adda is a chochol. They have crafty little fingers and usually work as artisans, but she rebels against her parents. They want her to inherit the family pottery business, but her dream is to travel. That, of course, is impossible since she doesn’t have enough magic to step foot outside the city. But one can dream.”

He watches me lazily with hooded eyes, and I bite the inside of my cheek. I’m curious about so many things, but since I don’t know if it’s safe to speak plainly, I take pains to formulate my questions with care.

“So, some people have to stay in the city? Because the toll is higher outside of it?” I finally ask, doing my best to sound neutral.

Lech nods. “Magic is precious. You’re cocky because you have a bit more than others, but it would do you good to see how people with little magic live—and what they will do to survive. Take your wila friends, for example. Now that they have those precious charms that they couldn’t afford on their own, they will be able to whore themselves out for magic. You changed their lives for the better, all with one gift that cost you little.”

He smirks when my mouth falls open in confusion. “What? But—why?”

“You should see the look on your face,” he says with a hearty laugh. “Are you a prude, Alina? There is nothing wrong with being a whore, you know. It’s certainly a step up from being raped for free, wouldn’t you agree?”

The quick arrival of food interrupts our conversation. Lech sighs in pleasure when Adda sets a large goblet of blood in front of him, the metal dish beading with perspiration from how cold it is. I get a big bowl of meat stew with buckwheat and a plate heaped high with sauerkraut.

“That will be one hardboiled,” Adda says in a bored voice, setting a basket with an egg on the table.

“She’s paying.” Lech points at me, his goblet already in his hands as he stares at the blood greedily.

I carefully fill the egg with just enough magic, my chest giving a little twinge. Adda makes a quick job of checking the payment and leaves, her beak clicking impatiently.

We eat in silence, and I’m startled by how good the food tastes compared to how unassuming it looks. Lech drains his goblet and leans against the wall with an obscene moan of pleasure, pressing his hand to his lean stomach.

“Wilas have little magic of their own,” he says with his eyes closed. “They get a little from male seed, which is why most of them go into whoring so they can also get paid. It helps that they are so pretty. The only problem is, no one wants to risk getting pregnant these days. Especially wilas, who are bound to have kids with little power, no matter who the father is.”

I try to absorb all this information. Prostitution was a purely hypothetical concept back home, since it didn’t exist in our village. Also, it’s jarring to hear Lech use the word “whore” without meaning it as an insult. I was called that and worse, and it was always meant to humiliate me.

“Do you understand what it means to be desperate, Alina? Truly desperate?” he asks with a lazy smile, as if we’re flirting and not discussing the matters of life and death.

I nod once. Lech nods back as if he expected nothing less.

“Good. Then you understand desperation brings out the worst in people. They will steal, whore themselves out to their enemies, and lie, deceive, and even kill. This city is filled with desperate people. And you, my darling, have a tendency to rush head-first into danger, and then you flaunt your abundance of magic in front of the less fortunate, taunting them with what they would give everything to have.”

I open and close my mouth in confusion. “What? I don’t flaunt anything!”

“Please. No one buys three runes at once. The smart thing to do is to get one every few days, or come in with your eggs already filled, so people think you infused them over time.

“Now those three wilas and the rune seller all suspect you have as much juice as a dragon, since you spend it so easily. And word travels fast here. If the gossip reaches the wrong person, you’ll find yourself locked up in someone’s basement and milked for magic for the rest of your life. Is that what you want?”

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