“I ripped my soul apart for good in the Well of Souls,” I admit with a heavy sigh, ashamed for acting so recklessly with magic I don’t understand. “I released large parts of it, and the stones swallowed them up. That was the point of no return, I think. I crippled myself. Those parts are gone forever.”
Chors is calm, no judgment in his steady gaze. “What happened when you toppled Perun’s oak?”
I shiver, remembering how it felt to sense nothing,benothing, clinging to my body with the fading grip of my little soul claws.
“I burned through it all, and nothing was left. Nothing but an empty shell. It faded. But Weles—he breathed into it. He filledit. That’s when it got this big. This… Unwieldy. I am powerful, Chors. I have more magic than any mortal or bies, I know. But it feels wrong. If my body was like my soul, I’d have internal organs hanging out. Heart, intestines, my womb. It’s… I’m sick. Can you help me?”
Even before he shakes his head, I know it’s hopeless. His eyes are kind but sad. I don’t think he’s ever looked at me with such pity before, and I hate it.
“You should show my father. If anyone can heal you, it’s him, but Jaga, I don’t think it’s an illness. You… It’s shocking, yes. Unnatural. But also beautiful. You are as powerful as a goddess, aren’t you?”
“But it hurts,” I grit out through clenched teeth.
“Yes. You’ll learn to live with the pain.”
I check my scream of rage before it leaves my throat. He’s gentle and infinitely understanding, and I remember how I saw him two weeks ago, dead but living, desiccated and hurting. If anyone has a right to say that to me, it’s him. I release my rage with a shaky breath and nod.
“Thank you.”
There is a call somewhere above, a scream of a lost bird. I shiver and wrap my arms around me, feeling naked. I guess that’s how it will be between Chors and me now. We are a strange blend of friends, past lovers, and family. I hate that I love him so much.
If I cared less for the beautiful moon god, I would seduce him to taunt Woland.
“That wasn’t a seagull,” Chors mutters, looking up.
He extends an arm high up, his palm open. A beam of silvery light shoots out, combing through the dark sky. For the briefest moment, it illuminates a large, feathery shape. The thing instantly shies away with a squawk.
“Upierzycas,” Chors says grimly. “We’d better go back and…”
The sky bursts into flames.
Chapter seventeen
Savior
Pride and jealousy swell in my chest when I see Chors’ first reaction is to protect Jaga from the heat. He throws his shields of silvery, cool magic in front of her as the rarog shoots fire with a horrid screech. It lasts a few seconds, and the flames shrink, becoming a bird-shaped inferno in the sky. The upierzycas, which hid behind the rarog so as not to be burned, dive at the cliff.
I am Weles now, and just as well. With a long-suffering sigh, I throw away my cover of shadows. I was going to pretend I didn’t follow them here, because even I know how pathetic it is.
But I can’t very well let them burn.
“Father,” Chors says with a reproachful sigh. “I should have known.”
“Yes. Duck.”
An upierzyca throws a missile of some kind, and it flies just over Chors’ head when he drops into a low crouch. I catch it witha tendril of my shadow, instantly recognizing the poisonous spell it's infused with.
“Careful. Acid.”
Jaga throws me a furious glare and turns back to the sea, raising her arms high.
“We don’t need you. Go away.”
I fold my arms on my chest, smiling despite myself. My foolhardy witch. She was always like this, insisting on handling everything on her own. She wanted to defeat all evil with her puny mortal hands, and it’s one of the things that made me fall so hard for her.
It makes me want to carry her burdens. Just for spite, probably. I know she hates it.
“You don’t have to do everything alone, Jaga, dear. You have allies.”
