Page 38 of Devil's Doom

Lech gives me a long look, his red-rimmed eyes growing sharp. “How do you know this? If he did such a thing, he’d never tell anyone. No one is exempt from the law, not even Perun.”

I snort, remembering another law the gods easily broke—the law against lying with one’s closest kin. Mokosz had sex with her son, Rod, and later gave birth to the three rodzanica sisters.

“I highly doubt that. Gods break their laws all the time, don’t they? The laws are there to keep us in line while they do what they want.”

Lech heaves a sigh, considering me. “I might agree in some cases, but playing with life and death… Alina, it’s dangerous. Also, you haven’t answered my question. How do you know what the devil did?”

“I knew that woman,” I say softly. “Once.”

That doesn’t feel like a lie. The Jaga who died on that field and was brought back in bone-crushing agony is no longer here. Everything that happened later changed me so much.

I don’t know who I am anymore.

“And what happened to her after?” Lech asks, casting a worried glance at Dar. “Did she live a good life?”

What’s one more lie?

“I… Yes, she did. She was fine. He will be fine, too.”

Lech shakes his head, still looking at Dar’s sleeping face like he wants to see through skin and flesh, right to the boy’s soul to make sure he is truly himself.

“But this changes things,” he says quietly. “We’ll have to tell Rada at one point. And I’ll have to protect her—protect you all. You, too. Especially you. Alina, you still don’t get it. You… You can’t walk around doing things like this. Lying to dragons is one thing, but that magic… You need to learn. How to hide, how to liebetter, how to actually survive. What laws not to break.”

“Aha. And you know someone in your boat-fixing job that can teach me, is that it?” I ask, trying to inject some levity into the conversation.

“You know very well I don’t fix boats,” Lech says with a snort. “I’ll show you tomorrow. We’ll need to hide, at least until we know more about the consequences. Because there will be many. He might seem normal now, but you changed the threads of fate. This won’t go unnoticed.”

I want to huff impatiently but stop myself. The fact Woland’s resurrection of me didn’t bring down the heavens doesn’t mean Lech isn’t right. And I can think of at least one way this will affect Dar.

“The mark on his forehead,” I say slowly. “The mark the rodzanicas give every newborn child. Does that only happen in the mortal world or here as well?”

Lech murmurs a curse through clenched teeth. “Fuck, you’re right. Yes, every newborn gets a mark. If a rodzanica ever sees him, she will know his fate was tampered with. See? And it’s just one thing you changed that we know of. What about the ones that aren’t common knowledge?”

I hate to admit he’s right. The joy and unbridled power that suffused me after I brought Dar back to life shatter to pieces as I consider an unbearable thought: that by bringing him back, I might have hurt him instead of helped. And yet…

“I don’t regret it,” I say, stubbornly looking into Lech’s blue eyes. “I would do it again. For Rada.”

That seems to soften him. The upir stands up and regards me with tired eyes, finally giving me a weak smile.

“She will thank you when she finds out. And I thank you, too. You are… You’re one of a kind, Alina. No one else would have done this for her. I won’t forget it.”

Before he leaves, he takes a deep breath and looks at me over his shoulder.

“Get up early tomorrow. There is something I need to show you both.”

I nod, my mind already made. I’ll go with them one last time, and after that, I’ll have to disappear from their lives. Tomorrow will be goodbye then.

I leave my curtains open before sleep, and the daylight wakes me up early. Outside, the sky is gray, streets wet, but it’s no longer raining. Perun made his point and punished everyone for the rebel attack. As I watch, a funeral procession passes under my window, a narrow cart holding the body of a kobold followed by a dozen other kobolds and a few chochols.

The body will be burned outside the city. I imagine more than a dozen funerals will be held today. And one of them should be Dar’s.

Gripped by sudden terror that my magic didn’t work, or that fate found a way to take what’s hers, I throw a shawl around my shoulders and run barefoot to Rada’s room. Lech answers my soft knock, already dressed.

“He’s fine,” he says when he sees my anxious expression. “I know how you feel. I check on him every five minutes. Rada says I’m like a mother hen.”

He gives me a weak smile, and I breathe out in relief. “All right. Thank you. If anything is wrong, let me know.”

We go out an hour later, right after breakfast. Rada holds the baby in a shawl I helped her tie around her body, fashioning it into a comfortable sling for the boy. Her hands are free, and she keeps pushing her hair onto her face to hide it. She hasn’t gone out in weeks, and it took Lech some effort to convince her to join us today.

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