Forever Green

~ 37 ~ A New Kind of Weapon

"You look awfully chipper today," Theiden observed as he headed for the witch hunters' establishment one morning. Beside him, Tareth gave a toothy grin.

"Why wouldn't I be?" the man replied, his long strides keeping pace with Theiden. "It's payday, after all."

"Payday?" Theiden echoed. Every morning for the past week, he had been sneaking over the city wall and setting hunting traps before heading over to the witch hunters' place for practice. The thought of getting paid by anything other than his catch had never occurred to him.

Tareth rubbed his hands together in gleeful expectation. "There's nothing like the feel of a nice fat purse jingling with coins in the palm of your hand. I think I'm gonna get myself a new hat." He gazed up at the ribbons crisscrossing the street overhead. "Midsummer Week Festival begins tonight. I want to look my best for the ladies."

Theiden remained silent, calculating how much he would need to pay back his loan from Evaly. He was nearly there now—another week of selling rabbit meat and pelts, and he would be out of debt. But if he were to get a salary from the witch hunters, the balance would be paid back even sooner.

"Here we are," Tareth announcied, pulling Theiden from his thoughts.

Theiden looked up and frowned. "This isn't our building." The gray stone façade and blue trim was a stark contrast to the drab brown building they had been training in for the past week. Theiden raised a brow at the dramatic upward arch at the corners of the gutters and the gold-painted designs on the shutters. This building was much more...elaborate.

Tareth's grin was the same sort as Em's when she had a secret everyone else didn't yet know about. "'Course it's our building!" he exclaimed. "This is just a different way in. It's all connected, y'see."

From his time in the labyrinthine tunnels and the practice room of the other building, Theiden had guessed as much, but the concept was still so unusual to him. Just how much power did the witch hunters have, to be able to construct such a network? Though he knew it was all in good intent to protect against the witches, the thought worried him, just a little bit.

Theiden followed Tareth through the door of the gray building, into a large stone parlor with four large tapestries hanging on the walls. A gray-bearded man with an eyepatch was sitting behind a desk near the door, and exchanged a nod with Tareth as they entered.

"Colverne, this is Theiden," Tareth announced, gesturing as Theiden ducked through the low doorway. "Theiden, this is Colverne, one of our most experienced fighters."

Theiden copied Tareth's nod. "Nice to meet you."

"Colverne's been with the witch hunters longer than anyone," Tareth explained. "Though he was forced to retire from the hunting expeditions about twelve years ago. Now he's our head researcher and keeper of the keys."

"What happened?" Theiden asked.

Colverne raised a hand to point at his covered eye. "Lightning."

Theiden frowned. "Lightning?" Now that the man had mentioned it, he could see the faded burn scars along his face, half-hidden by wrinkles and white-gray hair. A patch of his beard on his right side, beneath the ruined eye, was missing, as though the scarring had prevented the beard from ever growing in fully.

Colverne nodded. "Witch's work. I was one of the lucky ones. The rest lost their minds and jumped off a cliff."

Theiden's eyes widened in alarm. "Were there no survivors?"

Colverne shook his head calmly, seemingly having made peace with the fact a long time ago. "Not of the ones who went cliff-diving. But me and a few others managed to escape."