“So if someone dares to be more than average, if they are destined for greatness and power—he has them killed as a child? Oh, it makes so much sense. I believe it.”
She shakes, a faraway look in her eyes, like she’s lost in a memory. Her gaze is unguarded. I force myself to stand up and walk far away, because the temptation of forcing my way into her mind is too great.
The lengths she makes me go to. I’ve never sacrificed so much for another, and she dares to scorn my love.
I let my shadows swallow me and become Weles. This way, at least, I won’t scream at her for denying me after the torture she made me go through. As Weles, I am polite. I have decorum.
“So if not for Perun, I might have had a long, good life as a mortal?” Jaga asks, her voice shaking from suppressed rage.
I chuckle under my breath, rounding the table so she sees me. Her eyes narrow, but she doesn’t ignore me, at least.
“Jaga, love, if not for Perun, you would have been a formidable witch and I would have taught you myself. Witches are my people, those I hold dearest. We might have fallen in love peacefully then. He hurt us both, didn’t he?”
“Treacherous, silver tongue,” she mutters, looking away.
“But it’s the truth. Woland’s blood is my blood. You bind me, too.”
She gulps her wine and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. Her eyes are purposeful when they settle on my face. She means to say something, but the door clangs open, and Chors strides in, resplendent in a silver shirt that seems to be woven from moonlight itself.
Jaga smiles with genuine affection, and I fight the urge to throw out my beloved son. So much for that moment of reconciliation in his cave during the new moon. My jealousy churns like a parasite in my guts.
“Would you care to join me for a walk outside?” he asks, his eyes sparkling with power.
And of course, she agrees.
Chapter sixteen
Moonlight
Jaga
“We’ll go to the cliffs,” Chors says, looking at me with a sweet smile. “I promised you, remember? It’s beautiful up there with the full moon in the sky.”
I watch Weles from the corner of my eye. His face freezes into a mask of neutrality, the same one Woland wore. It’s shocking how many similarities there are between god and beast, even though they look completely different. They are one, though. I should never forget it.
“Bring her back in one piece,” he says, his voice bland, almost bored, as he pierces Chors with his dark gaze.
Chors isn’t cowed. He chuckles, his eyes sparkling. “I thought you’d demand to join us.”
Weles shakes his head, turning away with a snap of his black cloak. “Go. I have things to do.”
Chors shrugs and comes closer. His arms wrap around me, warm and familiar, supple with lean muscle now that he is at full power. I embrace him back, sighing with relief when his scent envelops me, water and evening dew, and something plantlike, maybe lilies, maybe ferns.
“I’ll keep you safe.”
My scornful snort is swallowed by the wind when magic hurls us through the world, shadows flashing by as Chors’ silver light tangles in my hair. It lasts only a few seconds before our feet touch the ground.
“I keep myself safe these days,” I say, my voice fully controlled even after that dizzying experience.
Chors nods seriously. “Of course. But isn’t it comforting to know you have someone on your side? I always know my father will protect me if I fail. It lessens the fear.”
I’ve never had that.
My heart squeezes in my chest, and I turn away to look at the view. We stand on top of a tall cliff, just a step away from the edge. Above us, the night sky is clear and brilliant with stars, the full moon still low over the horizon. Behind us, pines creak ominously in the wind, but that sound is barely heard over the roaring, splashing, roilingsea.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Chors asks with hushed reverence.
I can’t speak. The darkness below us churns like a living, giant organism, a thing of fury and violence. It beats against the cliffs, its attack rhythmic and unstoppable. Waves rise and foam, crashing into the cliff face. The sea is a vision of dark shadows and silvery highlights, of black depths and sharp edges cast in relief by the moonlight. My heart stutters in awe.
