Cure
Jaga avoids me after bringing me the knife from the past. I preserve it in a hundred protective spells, keeping the blood on the blade, impossible to remove or use for anyone but me and her. The knife is ordinary, a sacrificial blade that any zerca might use to slaughter a black hen or a cat.
The only thing special about it is Jaga’s blood from that moment. I perform spell after spell, trying to discern what about the knife makes it deadly to a god, and come up empty.
Winter settles in for good on the island, the cold months Lutowa was named after gripping the world in merciless cold. People starve in the mortal world, and biedas have a feast. There is no news from Wyraj until, one day, Jutrzenka goes to amuse herself in the mortal world. She comes back excited and giddy, and begs me to call a council.
“But what happened?” I ask, annoyed, because I was about to drag Jaga away for some flying. It’s the only thing she deigns todo with me anymore, and I use it mercilessly to spend as much time with her as I can.
“It’s a surprise!” Jutrzenka says with a happy giggle, batting her eyelashes. “Please, please, please, Daddy, call a council!”
I shudder. “I will if you promise never to call me ‘Daddy’ again.”
She nods with a happy squeal, and I sigh, sending my shadows far and wide to summon my allies.
“Jaga, come to the Hall of Fires, please. There’s news.”
It takes over fifteen minutes for everyone to join us. Nyja and Strzybog appear disheveled and hastily dressed, the rodzanicas are so pale as to be blue from the cold, and the King of Bees is lethargic and slow, his bees mostly still and silent. Winter is not a good time for most of us, and some gods sleep through it.
I clap to rouse the fires and bring hot, sweet wine to the table to wake them up. Jaga comes in with a heavy frown, annoyed that her work was interrupted. She sits in her usual place opposite me, and I relish the sight of her there. It’s a seat that has been unoccupied since the beginning of Nawie, reserved for my future queen if I ever have one.
She claimed it without knowing this. Just like she claimed my throne.
“Jutrzenka has news,” I say, gesturing for her to rise. “We’re all here. Tell us.”
The goddess stands up, clapping her hands like a delighted child. “Yes, yes! I was just in the mortal world, watching the dawn paint the snow gold and pink. I flew over many fields and forests in the north and saw my father. He’s building another temple with Perun.”
Curses and exclamations of outrage ring out, and I shake my head, massaging my throbbing temple.
“You acted like it was supposed to be something good,” I mutter under my breath, the familiar fear settling like a friend in my gut. “Oh, fuck.”
Jutrzenka giggles, bouncing in excitement. “No, but you didn’t hear the best! Both Swarog and my father are with him, and they are forbidden from leaving until the temple is ready. It will take a long time, at least until late spring, because he wants to make it indestructible.”
I look up, a glimmer of hope pushing through the fog of terror. “You’re saying Wyraj is unprotected. Only Mokosz and some bieses stay there since Perun took both of his most powerful gods with him.”
She nods with a wide smile, her eyes glittering. I smile back but without much enthusiasm.
“Perun will come back as soon as he knows we’re there,” Rod says soberly. “Wyraj is his domain. He’ll know if we cross the boundary, and even if he doesn’t, Mokosz or someone else will get him.”
Jutrzenka shakes her head. “No, he won’t! The protective spells hiding his new temple are so powerful, he barely knows what’s happening outside!”
Jaga frowns, drumming her fingers on the table. She watches Jutrzenka with barely concealed hostility.
“How come you saw him if he’s so well protected?” she asks sharply.
I sit back. “Good point.”
Jutrzenka giggles eerily, dancing in place. “I saw a large piece of land that reflected the light wrong because of the protective spells, and I was curious, so I made myself a teeny-tiny hole to look inside. I heard them talking. Then I went to Wyraj to check. Daddy didn’t come. He would have if he knew I was there, don’t you think?”
I shudder, because she calls PerunDaddyjust like she called me, and it is so very wrong. I wonder if he’s fucking her. I wouldn’t put it past him, even though he is her grandfather.
“I don’t know,” I say reluctantly. “This seems too serendipitous. I would expect Perun to be on his guard after his latest defeat.”
“Not necessarily.” Strzybog shakes his head, looking serious for once. “He’ll want to get his revenge. You know how impatient he is. You said he’s building the temple in the north? That’s clever, since it’s unlikely the news from Warkogrod traveled that far through the winter. He can start again and infect millions of people once the snow melts.”
“I vote we try,” Nyja says, piercing me with her silver gaze. “You know him, Weles. A defeat always makes him dumb and blind, so this is the best moment to attack.”
Fear roils in my stomach, because I don’t want to go near the Great Oak, no matter how necessary it is. I haven’t seen it since I was Perun’s captive.
