Page 24 of Devil's Doom

My brows hike up in astonishment. “Does that happen here? Oh gods. And no one does anything to stop it?”

“What do you think?” Lech asks, his eyes aglitter.

I take a deep breath, staring unseeingly at the flame of our candle. I think about Woland, and how he said on many occasions that he’s desperate and will do anything to get his goal, meaning me. Then I think about how desperate I was after he cursed me to sow illness and death all around me until my touch killed a newborn baby.

But Lech is wrong, and Woland is, too. Because when I was at my lowest, I chose to kill myself rather than let Woland own me. I had this line that I refused to cross. It’s possible, then—to be desperate and still have principles.

Or maybe, a quiet voice whispers in my mind, maybe I haven’t fallen low enough yet. Maybe I was lucky.

Maybe someday, I will be forced to cross that line, too.

Lech sits up with a groan, stretching his arms high over his head. My eyes narrow in sudden annoyance.

“Why didn’t you tell me all that before I bought the runes?” I ask, my teeth clenched. “Are youtryingto get me locked up in somebody’s basement?”

His eyes twinkle as he smirks without a trace of shame. “Oh, no. I’m only trying to see what you’re made of. Also, I’m curious how much you can spend a day, which is vital information to have about your friends—and enemies, too. A dragon can spend ten hardboiled eggs a day. Once we get back to the milk bar, we’ll see if you have seven in you, since you already spent four.”

“And how much can you spend?” I ask through gritted teeth, hating that he has such an easy time getting me to do what he wants. I really should be more careful.

“Two hardboiled eggs on a good day,” Lech offers easily. “Three if I have a lot of magical blood from someone powerful—like you, darling. So if you ever want to help me out, you know what to do.”

“In your dreams, leech.”

He gets up, yawning widely. “Come on. It’s getting late, but I have to show you one more thing so you don’t get yourself killed when I’m not around.”

“What do you want to show me?” I stand up, hiding a wince at the pain in my feet.

Lech snickers under his breath. “My dear innocent, you’re going to see why you should never go up against a dragon. Where I’m taking you is a surprise, but I do have a useful tip: hold on to your food.”

Chapter ten

Punishment

By the time we reach a large, open square situated on the flattest piece of the city I’ve seen yet, my entire body hurts from being on my feet all day. The sun has just set, and a beautiful autumn twilight colors the sky. Three large bonfires burn on the sides of the square, seasoning the air with the warm scent of smoke.

There are tiers of low benches arranged in a rough rectangle around a fenced off area in the middle. The square is packed, people standing on the benches or milling around them. A fat, bare chested man with tusks has a sack of wine skins that he sells to people in the crowd.

“Only one soft egg! One soft egg for the best mamuna wine!”

I suddenly wonder if he’s a mamuna male. Not much is said about them since they don’t seduce or kidnap mortals like the females do, but I know they exist—just like wila men, who are said to be extremely rare.

“It looks like a cage,” I murmur to Lech as he drags me to the front of the crowd, using his elbows.

“I’m sorry, darling… I apologize… Oh, thank you…” He jabs left and right, and when someone gives him an angry look, he smiles charmingly and offers an apology. It works shockingly well and no one questions us as we take the best places in the very front row, giving us an unobstructed view of the area in the center.

“Itisa cage,” he confirms, his smirk quite small as he glances jerkily around, as if looking for someone. “The bars are made of the purest iron and infused with curses that make it impossible for anyone locked inside to attack the crowd. Ever since they added this precaution, the trials became much more popular.”

“The trials?” I ask.

Lech huffs softly, still craning his neck. He raises his hand a few times in greeting, calling out to some friends.

“You’ll see,” he answers my question. “All I can tell you is that trials are considered prime entertainment. No bard can sing stories more captivating than what happens here every evening. Do you have a soft-boiled egg in you for the wine, or would you rather keep your strength?”

“I don’t want wine.”

After Lech’s accusation of flaunting my magic, I am determined not to spend it publicly. I’ll do just as he said: fill some eggs in private so people can’t tell how much magic I have. It’s already bad enough the upir knows so much about my abilities. He proved very useful, but Lech is too good at deceit and charm to be trustworthy. I need to find out what he hides—from me and from the world.

A roar of eager shouts fills the square, and I jerk, looking around. Two dragons come out of a large building ahead, their forms utterly strange—they walk on two legs, but they are as big as two mortal men each, their skin covered in scales, long tails swinging behind their thighs. It’s like they are half-human, half-dragon.

---