Chapter 31 #2
Her voice rings sharp and confident, but I can tell this is all pretense. Jaga is wary and uncomfortable, and as everyone turns to her, she straightens her spine and looks down on them with haughty coolness meant to disguise her discomfort.
I pull her pain closer, anchoring it within myself. She’s having a hard time as it is.
“We do what the prophecy says,” Nyja answers after a pregnant pause, rolling her eyes. “You can’t run from it. The only way to defeat Perun is if you give yourself to Weles.”
“Then it’s a lost cause,” Jaga says with a shrug, her eyes narrow and spiteful. “I’ll never give my soul to anyone. This war will go on forever. Unless we come up with another way.”
“There is no other way!” Nyja slams her fist into the table, and a spiderweb of cracks races toward the middle from the point of impact.
“I told you already, a prophecy has to come true one way or another. This one says you will be claimed by the one who wins. Stop playing with the fate of Slawa and do the right thing!”
“But how do I know what the right thing is? I won’t do it,” Jaga growls, her eyes glittering like jewels. “My life isn’t your plaything.”
Strzybog, who sits next to Nyja, puts his palm on top of her fist. She sneers at him, baring her sharp teeth, and he grins.
“Is there a way to make Jaga comply?” he asks.
My poppy girl hisses angrily, and he shrugs, bold as brass as he faces her. “What? I want to win, just like everyone at this table. If you won’t cooperate, we will force you. It’s a reasonable solution. You would have done the same thing.”
“She can only be his if she willingly surrenders,” Nyja says, eyeing me coldly. “Or if he makes her pregnant and she gives him a child.”
Strzybog claps his hands, delighted. “Great, problem solved! Do you want me to hold her down for you, Weles?”
Jaga takes two steps to the nearest pillar and holds out her hand.
Diamonds and rubies tear off from the wall, floating to her cupped palm.
Everyone watches, intrigued, as gems fall with soft tinkles.
When she has a nice pile, she clenches her hand into a fist, opening it a moment later. It’s empty.
Strzybog coughs. A tiny ruby falls onto the table with a clink. He coughs again, then again, spluttering as his face grows red and sweaty. A bloodied diamond falls out of his mouth, followed by more gems.
“Naughty. He’s your ally,” I chide Jaga, though personally, I’m quite enjoying the show. Strzybog had it coming.
The others murmur and whisper to each other, some laughing, others shooting Jaga unfriendly looks. She stands tall and proud, a queen of ice in leather, and I can only imagine how fragile she must feel.
This is her worst nightmare, after all. People hating her for who she is. I used it against her last year, and I still remember how broken and hurt she was.
And so, before our allies become convinced Jaga is the enemy, I act.
I stand up slowly, mindful of the pain, and send my shadows into Strzybog’s open mouth.
I retrieve all of the gems he hasn’t coughed out yet and swipe the mess away, including his blood, which I’ll store in a vial for later.
One never knows. It might come in handy.
“Strzybog, I don’t appreciate your offer to help me rape one of my allies,” I say smoothly. “I say you got what you deserved, and let’s leave it at that. Besides, it’s a moot point. Jaga’s infertile.”
The god of wind fumes, massaging his throat, but he says nothing. Jaga sits down rigidly, hiding her clenched fists in her lap. I give her a small nod.
“If you’ll allow me, my queen, I’d like to reword your question. What you should have asked is this: how do we defeat Perun if the prophecy is not a factor? I open the floor to all ideas.”
Silence stretches uncomfortably as everyone avoids my gaze. I sigh, expecting another fruitless meeting. We’ve been over this a thousand times and discussed this ad nauseam.
If no one speaks up, this will be the least fruitful council of all.
“Anything, please. Even stupid ideas count,” I encourage them, knowing gems are often hidden in mud.
Wiosna catches my eye, smiling mischievously. I give her a nod. She settles more comfortably in her chair, putting away an empty glass of mead.
“Oh, it’s easy,” she says with a mean laugh. “You just make him eat a lamb full of brimstone. Like in the tales.”
Everyone laughs, their mirth too boisterous and laced with relief that someone spoke up. Jaga rolls her eyes with a reluctant smile. Once the chuckles subside, I nod seriously.
“Were Perun a dragon, it might have worked, since brimstone-stuffed sheep are an excellent bait for dragons. Thank you, Wiosna.”
She nods with a satisfied smile, pulling a plate of cake toward her.
“Bait,” Rod says, sitting up to look at me. “We know he’ll only come out for two people: you and Jaga. So you just need to show yourselves somewhere we have an advantage.”
I nod. “And where would that be?”
Rod shakes his head grimly, because he knows as well as I do there is no place in any world where Perun might be defeated. But it’s a start, and as more voices chime into the discussion, a glimmer of hope lights in my chest.