“Strzybog, I don’t appreciate your offer to help me rape one of my allies,” I say smoothly. “I say you got what you deserved, and let’s leave it at that. Besides, it’s a moot point. Jaga’s infertile.”
The god of wind fumes, massaging his throat, but he says nothing. Jaga sits down rigidly, hiding her clenched fists in her lap. I give her a small nod.
“If you’ll allow me, my queen, I’d like to reword your question. What you should have asked is this: how do we defeat Perun if the prophecy is not a factor? I open the floor to all ideas.”
Silence stretches uncomfortably as everyone avoids my gaze. I sigh, expecting another fruitless meeting. We’ve been over this a thousand times and discussed this ad nauseam.
If no one speaks up, this will be the least fruitful council of all.
“Anything, please. Even stupid ideas count,” I encourage them, knowing gems are often hidden in mud.
Wiosna catches my eye, smiling mischievously. I give her a nod. She settles more comfortably in her chair, putting away an empty glass of mead.
“Oh, it’s easy,” she says with a mean laugh. “You just make him eat a lamb full of brimstone. Like in the tales.”
Everyone laughs, their mirth too boisterous and laced with relief that someone spoke up. Jaga rolls her eyes with a reluctant smile. Once the chuckles subside, I nod seriously.
“Were Perun a dragon, it might have worked, since brimstone-stuffed sheep are an excellent bait for dragons. Thank you, Wiosna.”
She nods with a satisfied smile, pulling a plate of cake toward her.
“Bait,” Rod says, sitting up to look at me. “We know he’ll only come out for two people: you and Jaga. So you just need to show yourselves somewhere we have an advantage.”
I nod. “And where would that be?”
Rod shakes his head grimly, because he knows as well as I do there is no place in any world where Perun might be defeated. But it’s a start, and as more voices chime into the discussion, a glimmer of hope lights in my chest.
Chapter thirty-two
Miracles
After three hours of exchanging increasingly outlandish ideas, my hope is thoroughly snuffed out, and even Jaga looks miffed. I give her a mocking look.
“You seriously thought having the perspectives of a few newcomers would fix us? I’ve done this for centuries, Your Nuisance. When I say there’s no way it’s becausethereis no way.”
She glares at me across the table, then sighs, nodding sharply.
“You’re right. I was arrogant to think I’d have ideas you never thought of.”
“…and if enough people believe Perun is a fluffy squirrel, he will have no choice but to become one,” Jutrzenka finishes her inane thought, beaming at everyone with unearned pride.
I sigh, shaking my head, because all I want is to strangle that girl, but that would serve no purpose.
“Howdo you propose we make millions of mortals believe Perun is a squirrel in a short span of time?” I ask, my voice infinitely patient considering what she said.
“Oh,” she trills with a giggle. “I don’t know. But it was a fun idea!”
“All right,” I mutter through clenched teeth, pushing away from the table. “Thank you everyone, that was a very invigorating discussion, but we’ll have to…”
“No,” Jaga says quietly, standing up. “Wait. Stop. She’s right.”
She wears an expression of tight focus, muttering under her breath and frowning. I sit back down with a wince I don’t even bother to suppress. It hurts less when she sits, I’ve noticed, but now she stands, and I don’t have it in me to hide my pain anymore.
“You want to make people believe Perun is a squirrel,” I say flatly, because that would be a cherry on top of this fucking day.
Jaga shoots me an impatient look. “No, of course not! I want to make them believe you’re powerful again.”
A hush falls over the table. I sigh, closing my eyes in exhaustion. “Jaga, Perun’s ancestral souls…”
