Page 41 of Devil's Doom

Rada sniffs once, swallowing tears, then sits down on the nearest crate and gives Dar a breast. The baby eats happily, lulled into calmness by the long, rocking walk down the stairs. She focuses on him and deliberately avoids looking at Lech.

That’s okay. I’ll deal with him.

“Explain yourself,” I demand through clenched teeth, taking a step closer until he’s crowded against the door.

“I was put under a spell that made it impossible to talk about it,” Lech says in a voice that betrays little contrition. “Which is why I couldn’t warn you. And I know that wasn’t exactly a warm welcome, but these are trustworthy, loyal people. You’ll be safe here. These tunnels were built by Weles himself, and they are protected by a powerful, ancient magic. Not even Perun can break through.”

“Loyal to whom?” I bite out through clenched teeth.

I’m furious, but even that anger can’t cover up the fear underneath. I feel like the walls are closing in around me. I’m buried underground with no way out, and a horrible, choking premonition makes my stomach roil with nausea.

“The rebellion,” Lech says, confirming my worst fear.

I clench my fists, my entire body locking up to keep the scream from spilling. It’s useless, though. Panic takes root in the pit of my stomach, making my skin itch with the need to flee.

“I have to go,” I say, my voice breaking. “Move out of the way.”

The upir shakes his head, the familiar sardonic spark glimmering in his eye. “So you’d rather live out there with the risk of dragons trying you on made-up heresy charges or raping you against the wall? Alina, this is the safest place in the world. Most caverns are so deep, the toll doesn’t reach there. It’s a privilege to be allowed in.”

“Privilege,” Rada mutters under her breath, her usually kind voice venomous.

If there’s one thing Rada can’t stand, it’s having her baby threatened.

“I don’t want your fucking privilege!” I scream, my control shattering. “I didn’t sign up for this! You fucking stay if you want, but you can’t stop me!”

“The guards will stop you,” Lech hisses. “What’s the matter with you? I thought you wanted to fight—because that’s what we do! We fight for a better world for us—for Dar! You broke the most sacred law last night, Alina. You belong here. I did you a favor, don’t you see?”

That gets Rada’s attention. “What sacred law?” she asks, her silver eyes searching my face.

I realize she looks like herself again. I am so panicked, I let my illusion slip. My heart breaks when our eyes meet, hers so innocent and soft despite everything she suffered.

My throat tightens with grief when I realize this is our goodbye. I can’t stay. My very presence is a threat to her, to them all.

Because Woland is the leader of the rebellion, and he will kill them once he knows how much they mean to me.

I turn to Lech, my mind made, my panic freezing into something cold and unshakeable.

“Move or I’ll move you.”

He grins, treating it like a challenge. “Let’s wrestle”

The upir folds me into a tight embrace, his strong body flexing with power around me. I don’t even try to break out of his hold. Instead, I make my skin grow spikes.

Lech leaps away with a cry of pain, blood seeping from numerous shallow wounds down his front. I don’t stay to look or assess my dress for damage. The way out is unbarred, and I shoot through the door, shaking off my cloak. It slows me down.

When the corridor ends, I stop, panting. The cavern is crowded now. I count at least two dozen people, all of them between me and the exit.

Upirs, kobolds, mamunas, and others. Some hold weapons but most are empty-handed, many smiling indulgently. Like they’ve done this a hundred times before and already know the outcome. Like it’s a game they are eager to play.

“Now, dear,” the strzyga says with a grin, cracking her knuckles. “Don’t make us hurt you.”

I don’t have a strategy or any space left inside me for thought. All I have is raw panic and the powerful magic humming under my ribs. Led by instinct, I do the same thing I did to Woland that night.

My palms outstretched, I target the strzyga.Fly.

She cries out when the force of my magic picks her up, slamming her back against the fuzzy wall. Her body makes a sickly crunch, and she slides to the floor, her head lolling. She’s unconscious.

A hush falls over the crowd, the relaxed atmosphere evaporating. Eyes narrow while hands tighten on clubs and daggers. My fear and desperation coil into a noose around my neck, and I grin, a cackle bubbling in my throat.

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