Her shoulders drop, and her expression softens a little. “Thank you. This must have really shocked you, to make you so pleasant. And you’re right. It’s beyond frustrating, and I’d rather not touch anyone. I hate him so much.”
I nod with emphasis, my voice dropping into an approximation of a soothing coo. It would be easier as Weles, but what can I do? Woland’s rasp will suffice.
“You must have tried to break this curse. What have you tried? Maybe I could help.”
She scoffs, throwing her head with frustration. “Nothing will help. You know how powerful he is. I don’t think he’ll reverse the curse even if I deliver you to him, which I should do now.”
I twist my lips in sympathy. “But will he be grateful if you do that? Be straight with me. Will Perun thank you after you fight so hard to please him?”
“He won’t!”
She stomps her bare foot, and flowers explode where it touches the grass, red clover and Carthusian pink. Jaga shudders so powerfully, I sense it through our bond. She viscerally hates this magic.
I keep talking to pull Mokosz where I want her.
“No, he won’t. He’s so ungrateful and so demanding, isn’t he? I must say, I’ve always hated to see how he pushes you around. Keeping you locked up in Wyraj whenever he wants… This isn’t right. You are a powerful goddess. You deserve to get your due.”
“I do! You are so right!” she bursts out, waving her arms with emphasis.
Butterflies appear out of thin air, frolicking between her fingers.
“I always try so hard, and he never has a good word for me. I don’t remember the last time he thanked me. Must have been… Before Rod. Oh, Woland, why can’t Weles be more powerful? I’d gladly be his. He had manners, at least, when I was with him. He was chivalrous.”
A bitter taste fills my mouth, and I throw my head. “I thought you hated Weles. Weren’t you going to chain him up? How is that going, by the way?”
She spits on the ground, and a clump of wheat grows from the spot, ripening fast until the stalks sway, golden and ready for harvest. She kicks them with annoyance.
“So you don’t know everything. I should tell you, if only to get back at mydearhusband.”
I grin. “I take it your plan has failed. You don’t have to tell me. Say, Mokosz, why are you here? Did Perun send you?”
She shakes her head. “I heard a commotion and was curious. He couldn’t care less what happens in Slawa these days, as long as Weles sits tight in Nawie. We’re supposed toonlyget him when he comes out—as if that will ever happen! Oh, and if the redhead is at large, too.”
She looks away, chewing on her tongue with a mutinous expression. I imagine it rankles her very much that Perun cares about Jaga.
“Do you want him to hurt, Mokosz?” I ask gently, spinning temptation like soft spiderwebs. “I can make it so it will. Only, you can’t be here, or he’ll know you failed to stop me. Go far away, and I promise, Perun will rage and quiver after I’m done with him.”
She eyes me dubiously. “What can you do? Frying the dragons was fun, but he won’t cry over them. You’re not powerful enough to really hurt him.”
I shrug, giving her a slow, private smile. “Then it doesn’t hurt to let me try, does it? Either I won’t do much, and Perun won’t care, or I’ll succeed, and he will suffer. You have nothing to lose either way. Poor Mokosz. How long has it been? You really need a fuck, don’t you?”
She purses her lips, looking sullenly away. Her hand trails up her breast, and I remember the look of the smooth globes devoid of nipples, now hidden under her dress. I hold back a cringe. Fuck, she looks so freaky now. I don’t know why it’s thisshocking. I’ve seen far worse depravities, yet the quiet menace of Perun’s punishment for his wife shakes me deeply.
I would feel sorry for her if she hadn’t hurt Jaga. As it is, Mokosz can go fuck herself.
Only, she can’t.
“I just thought she can go fuck herself. Get it? Jaga, I’ll laugh again, but don’t help me this time. You can’t do things in moderation, always jumping to extremes.”
A soft echo of Jaga’s laughter permeates my thoughts, and now, I have an urge to smile, joy bursting in my chest. Oh, it was a great idea to come here.
“Having you in my head is the best thing that’s happened to me in months.”
She doesn’t answer. Mokosz sighs, looking up at the branches of the tallest oak swaying above us in the gentle summer breeze.
“Fine. I’m going. I’ll send pollen into the city to make the bieses forget I was here, not that Perun would ever deign to question the rabble. Make him pay, and don’t tell anyone I was here. Can I count on you?”
I give her a small bow. “Of course, my lovely goddess. I can keep a secret.”
