Jaga doesn’t acknowledge my words, walking deeper into the Hall. I swallow everything else I want to tell her—how insane I am after what Perun did to me, how hopeless, how tired of this endless war I cannot win.
I wish to say that it wasn’t a lie when I told her fanciful stories of the future, dreaming out loud about peace, joy, and the children we’d have. I do hope for that, but it’s a hopeless sort of hope.
“Nawie has an inverted hierarchy to Wyraj,” I say hoarsely after choking down all my unsaid bullshit. “In the branches of the Great Oak, the higher up you are, the more important and unreachable. Here, up is down, and down is up. The most important things are deep at the bottom. That’s why I keep you in my throne room. No one can reach you there.”
She offers no words of thanks, not that I expect any. I clear my throat, staring fixedly at the back of her head. Even her dull hair shimmers a little in the magical, golden light of the eternal fires burning in crystal cauldrons placed in bright clusters between the pillars.
“The higher up you go, the more dangerous it is, though we have defensive measures on every level in Nawie. Perun tried to steal the souls away from me back in the day. We introduced a powerful net of wards and alarms to keep them safe. He’d just bleed everyone of their magic if he could get inside.”
I look for Chors, but he’s gone, so I shrug and follow Jaga down the central nave between thick, evenly spaced pillars. The Hall stretches ahead, brilliant and numinous. It could very well be a place of devotion for me to hold court, but I’m not willing to be worshipped anymore.
Not by anyone who is not her.
“Speaking of that, we pushed back another attack in Devil’s Cauldron.”
Nyja emerges from a pool of shadows ahead. Jaga stops abruptly, guarded and silent, but Nyja only smiles. She wears a flowing red dress today, her white hair braided into a crown around her head. Her dark skin glimmers like the luxurious obsidians above.
“It’s a pleasure to see you again, little witch,” she says, approaching in long, confident strides. “I see you’ve changed. Good. That innocent, fearful girl I met long ago wouldn’t survive what’s coming. But you might.”
Jaga flinches away from Nyja’s hand reaching for her cheek.
“I wasn’t innocent.”
Her tone is cold, but Nyja is an expert at dealing with difficult people. That’s why we’re still friends.
“Don’t give me that,” she says with a sharp, appraising look. “You were a lamb, a lamb that grew up into a thing with claws. Or am I wrong? Are you still that girl?”
Jaga’s jaw clenches before she shakes her head. Nyja nods, smiling now that she’s won the argument. Her silver gaze turns sly.
“How does it feel to be so deep underground after what you went through? Just like home?”
I grit my teeth, looking away to calm myself. Nyja fought with me on where to keep Jaga so she’d be safe and well, claiming that staying underground would only trigger the pain of being buried. Her words smart like an accusation, but I stand by my decision. The deepest levels of Nawie are the only safe space for my poppy girl.
But Jaga isn’t shaken. “Nowhere feels like home. I don’t care where I’m staying.”
“I was right,” Nyja boasts, shooting me an arch look. “She’s got claws.”
“You said something about an attack,” I grit out. “What happened?”
She sheds the air of mischievous teasing and sighs, her brows drawing together in a frown. “Dragons happened, of course. Rarog made an appearance, but no gods. It felt like a recon skirmish. They are still searching for our weak points, and so far, they have found none.”
She presses her lips together, and I nod grimly.
“You think it’s a matter of time.”
Nyja rolls her eyes. “Yes, it is. No one is invincible. I know you claim Nawie is untouchable because Perun never managed to get in, but did he ever try hard before? Also, it’s not just Perun this time, it’s all of them. How confident are you against Swarog and Dadzbog fighting together? Because I am afraid, Weles. I truly am, for the first time in centuries.”
I glance at Jaga, wondering if she has something to add, but her face is locked down, mouth flat, eyes impassive. She listens intently, though.
“Let me guess.” I cut to the chase with a weary sigh. We’ve been through this many times before. “We need allies.”
“Yes, we do. It’s time to let go of your pride, my friend. We need support. I could send envoys right now and…”
“Oh, please,” I cut in, turning away so fast, my black robe billows behind my back. “Who do you want to ask for help? Loners hidden away in their enclaves, like the King of Bees? There is no one left, Nyja! Everyone’s either on our side or theirs, and I will not beg potential spies to fight for me! They will just stab us in the back and steal away my… No. I won’t change my mind.”
“Your pride will kill us all!” she roars.
The Hall darkens, the force of her fury pressing all fires low until only the faintest red glow lights up her furious eyes. Jaga snorts softly, folding her arms. She would have been afraid once upon a time, but now, she’s amused.
