“Yes. I’m thinking. Do the souls of the dead killed in Chernobog’s name belong to him?”

“I lay no claim to the souls,” Roman-Chernobog said.

“How would this dedication take place?”

“My volhv will consecrate the field to me.”

I looked at Sirin. “What is Veles’s role in this?”

“Veles lays no claim to the field or lives lost on it. For now.”

I faced Roman-Chernobog. “If we consecrate the field to you, every death upon it becomes a human sacrifice.”

Sirin snapped her wings. Aspid opened his beak, his golden eyes staring at me. Apparently, the fact that I wasn’t a complete idiot was really surprising.

There was no way out. If I declined the bargain, neither I nor Teddy Jo would get out of this swamp. If I died, my father would take the city and crush it.

If I took the bargain, I’d be making a business arrangement with the God of Evil. No good ever came from making deals like that. No good ever came from making deals with gods, period. Especially when what he was asking for wasn’t mine to grant.

What should I do? How do I make the best of this mess? I wished I could’ve asked Roman for advice, but I highly doubted Chernobog would let me do that and even if he did, there was a pretty obvious conflict of interest.

“What if there is no battle?”

“There will be a battle,” Sirin said. “First, you will fight for your lover. If you win, you will fight for your heir. You will not survive. One of these battles will end you.”

“Maybe I’ll patch things up with my father.”

“You will not,” Sirin said. “Beware, Daughter of Nimrod. I have seen your death and it is a horror you cannot imagine.”

Awesome.

“Decide,” Roman-Chernobog said.

I would need ammunition against my father. The Witch Oracle had foreseen the battle, Sirin had foreseen the battle, so the battle would be happening. Curran would die. Atlanta would burn.

Consecrating the ground to Chernobog and feeding him the power of all those deaths . . . There was no darker darkness than this dragon winding around me. This would have far-reaching consequences. There hadn’t been a large-scale human sacrifice in the world for years. I would be opening a door that so many good people had fought to keep closed. I would be giving Chernobog a foothold in Atlanta.

But I’d be an idiot to turn down his offer. I wouldn’t even make it out of the swamp. It was my responsibility to defend the people in my land. It was my burden. I had to do whatever I could to make them safe. My father was an immediate danger. Chernobog was a distant, vague future threat. I didn’t need anyone’s permission. I could do it.

“Decide,” Roman-Chernobog repeated.

I raised my head and looked the god in the eye. “No.”

Aspid hissed.

“You’re asking me for something not in my power to give. I guard the land. I do not own it and I do not own its people. They pray to their own gods.”

“Then you die,” Roman-Chernobog said.

“If you kill me, my father will take over the city and all the lands around it. He doesn’t suffer any competition to his power. The witches and volhvs are afraid of him and oppose him. He knows this. Right now, your worshippers live in the land I guard. I don’t make any demands on them. They worship whoever they choose. Once my father comes through, that will be over. Most of those who honor you will die in that battle. Those who survive will be punished and enslaved for opposing my father. If you kill me, nobody in Atlanta will be left to say your name.” I looked at Sirin. “Tell him.”

The look on her face said she already had.

“You asked me here to bargain. Let me bargain with you.”

Silence fell. This was the part where I would get eaten. I’d make it as expensive for them as I could.

“What do you offer?” the god said.

“If you agree to help us crush my father’s forces, I will invoke your name before the troops gathered in front of me. I will tell those who fight with me that you will be present, so they can witness your power for themselves. I’ll make sure that they know your name so they may choose to pray to you. If your power is as great as the power your volhv has shown, that battle will bring you many converts. I will not make this bargain with any other god. No matter how much aid Belobog or Perun offers me, I will reject it. I will not go to their volhvs for help and I won’t seek their counsel. You will be the only Slavic god on the field that day. You will be honored, feared, and remembered. Years from now, they will tell legends about this day and your name will be spoken.”

Silence.

The god’s eyes shone brighter. “Done.”

Darkness swirled around Roman and withdrew back into the forest. He blinked, as if waking up, his massive sword again a simple staff, and his head bare.

Aspid hissed and slithered to Roman, the serpent dragon’s huge head level with him. If he opened his mouth, he could swallow the volhv in one gulp.

Roman shook his head, clearing it.

The dragon opened his mouth, his teeth like long curved sabers. Oh crap.

“Roman!” I started toward them and sank into the mud.

Aspid’s long serpentine tongue flicked out and wound around the volhv. I sped up, splashing through the bog. There was no way I could make it through all this muck in time.

Roman blinked again and smacked Aspid’s nose with his hand. “What did I say about kisses? No kisses unless invited.”

Aspid’s tongue contracted. He pulled Roman into his mouth.

I sprinted.

“Yes, I love you, too,” Roman said from inside the forest of teeth. “I need to go now. Come on.”

The dragon opened his mouth and put Roman back into the mud. The massive serpent looked at me, hissed, and slid into the forest, his obsidian body going and going . . . It would be comical if it weren’t so damn scary. I glanced behind me. Sirin was gone.

“Happens every time,” Roman said. “He misses his father. I’m a substitute until he sees Chernobog in the next flare.”

“You have a weird life.”

“Look who’s talking.” He shrugged. “It’s not that I’m that evil, really. I’m just beloved by evil things.”

A sword wrapped in black canvas rose from within the bog hilt up, like some strange flower. I gripped the hilt. It was cool to the touch. Huh. The last time I’d used it, I’d had to get special gloves and wrap the hilt in three layers of cloth. I pulled the sword free. Some people pulled swords out of stones and went on to rule Britannia. I pulled a sword out of the mud and tried not to think about what I had done.