I can’t hold up my head anymore. It tips back, and I choke on my own breath as antlers weigh me down. I can’t lift my head, can’t breathe, can’t even look anymore. I think I’m about to faint.
“Pathetic.”
Jaga drops to the floor in front of me. I choke, trying to breathe her in. She always smells so good, like power and smoke, like herbs and wine, likehome.
She huffs with annoyance, and I moan from shock, magic spreading through my body as she allows me to heal. The moment of euphoria is short. I gag on a scream as my ribs snap back to cover my heart, the bones reforming, my skin and muscles knitting themselves back. My flesh feels so cold and dry after being exposed for so long, my heart hammering in relief when it’s finally hidden away where it belongs.
My lips are open as I gasp for air, my head still tilted too far back. Something splashes in, cold and thick, humming with power. My own blood that’s congealed on the floor. I swallow it with disgust, knowing it’s the quickest way to rebuild my power.
Warm hands grip my head and lift it just enough to help me drink faster. Jaga mutters incoherently, so close, her breath tickles the sharp tip of my ear. I swallow more of my cold blood, disgust mixing with gratitude, and I shake, relying on her hold even as I get stronger, hoping she’ll stay close forever.
She is not fooled. Jaga lets me go, rising quickly. No more blood comes. I heave my head up and press my hands to my thighs, gulping in deep breaths.
“Is it really possible?” she asks, defensive and hostile. “I can make you speak only the truth?”
I sigh deeply, disappointed with myself because I haven’t thought of this before. “Yes. Use my blood. Make an amulet, likebefore. You can wear it around your neck and I’ll never lie to you again. Not that I want to. It’s just a habit that’s hard to break. Will be a relief—if you force me to be truthful.”
When I lift my head enough to look, Jaga eyes me with distrust, her fingers curled tightly around a knife. I open my arms, stretching them wide to the sides.
“Or carve me some more. Do whatever you want. I’m your servant.”
She scoffs, looking away, but not before her cheeks redden. It might be from anger or embarrassment. Or maybe she likes the sight of me at her feet and is loath to admit it.
“Come on. Try, poppy girl. You know blood magic works. You’ve done it before.”
Her gaze returns to my face, sharp and scornful.
“You’re a disgrace. Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?”
I laugh, dropping my hands to my lap. “I have no shame, love. And I have no more pride, either. If I lose you, I’ll lose everything, so do with me as you please. Make me crawl, make me beg, make me hurt. I will debase myself—for you.”
Her throat bobs as she swallows with discomfort. Magic gathers in front of her, red light coalescing into a triangular shape, a crystal bottle that looks just like the collateral I gave her, the one she ripped out of her body to let me find her. The blood swirling in the magical sphere floats out of it, siphoned into the crystal bottle. Jaga stoppers it and puts the chain around her neck. It hangs between her breasts, heavy and red, and she sighs deeply, closing her eyes to focus.
It takes but a moment for me to feel it. My tongue tingles, feeling rigid and tight, like I am not free to speak anymore. Jaga frowns, tilting her head to the side. The tingling lessens, and I smack my lips, trying to disperse the numbness.
“I made it so you can lie to everyone but me,” she admits grudgingly, avoiding my eyes. “It would be amusing to make you speak only the truth.”
I nod, heaving myself up with a grunt. “But you didn’t, because we are at war and I must be able to lie to keep my identity a secret. Thank you.”
She shrugs, her jaw working. I stand, watching her with scrutiny until I realize why she behaves so oddly. Jaga doesn’t hate me anymore, not as much as before. There’s a thin, fragile thread of trust between us. My pain must have appeased some of her anger. I am forgiven—a little.
“Well, ask me,” I whisper, drilling my gaze into her reluctant profile. “Ask me anything you want, and I’ll tell you the truth.”
When her eyes lock with mine, they are defiant and wary, and I understand why she dawdles. The questions she has for me must be as revealing as my answers will be.
She takes a deep breath, holds the air in, and closes her eyes. Her shoulders drop in resignation.
“If you have to pick between me and defeating Perun, what will you choose?”
Chapter fifteen
Even
You.
The word explodes in my brain with tenacious certainty, but my mouth won’t say it. No matter how much I wrestle with my tongue, it won’t speak. I stop fighting and frown. I love her. I do.
But maybe not enough.
