Forever Green

~40~ Banishing Illusions

"Over there, men! It came from that way!"

Decliteur's voice rang through the trees around them as Theiden ran through the forest with the witch hunters. Callan's stocky frame could be seen at the lead, barreling through the undergrowth and clearing a path for the rest of them while Decliteur directed from just behind the man.

Theiden followed at about seventh place in the group of twelve or so men who had heard the scream and gone to investigate. Tareth was right behind him, anger and determination written on his face when they came to a stop at the scene of the crime.

Some men gasped or looked ill, others drew closer to inspect the body of the dead woman in a kind of perverse curiosity. Theiden turned away, familiar with the sight. He had come across a few bodies before while hunting forest animals, and each one reminded him of Malisse.

His eye fell on the victim's basket, on its side amidst a stain of half-trampled berries, and his heart jumped to his throat. It looked so much like Lenesa's basket that he had seen at the cottage. Now that he knew Lenesa was capable of killing innocents like the city guards, he wondered if she might have played a part in this murder, as well. Was her skin as covered as Audeste's now? Were her eyes clouded over with the anguish and hate that consumed all Turned creatures?

One of the witch hunters pointed off to the right, at a path of trodden grass blades and twisted stems winding through the trees. "The creature went that way!" he exclaimed.

Decliteur studied the trail, then nodded. "No time to waste," he said. "You two—" he pointed at the men closest to the body, "take the remains back to the city. The rest of us will resume the hunt."

Theiden's stomach gave a flip at the order. If Lenesa was behind this, she would be treated like any other animal in the forest and spared no dignity. He had seen it once before, shortly after his wife's murder. Theiden had been blinded by pain and vengeance and cheered loudly with the rest of the crowd lining the streets as the witch hunters had carried the limp form of a witch through the city, trussed up and carried between the men on a pole like a prize hog to the butcher. Whether the witch had already been killed or was being taken to torture had been unknown, but he hadn't cared then.

The memory of Lenesa shrinking into her armchair, barely able to meet his gaze as she explained the process of Turning, flashed through his mind for the second time that day. Theiden shook his head. If she was caught, he wouldn't be able to help her even if he wanted to.

Tareth nudged Theiden with his shoulder, raising his eyebrows and inclining his head in the direction the other witch hunters were going. "Are you coming?"

Theiden cleared his throat and gave a flicker of a smile. "Yeah, of course."

They'd only taken a few steps when they were interrupted by a shriek that reverberated through the trees, shaking the branches.

"This way!" Callan shouted, and the witch hunters quickened their pace, excited by the prospect of catching a witch. They were close, judging by the scream. Theiden barely resisted a shudder as he ran—it had sounded too much like the scream of the faun that Lenesa had saved him from on one of his first nights in the mountains.

"Wait!" Decliteur held up a hand, and the witch hunters behind him and Callan scrambled to stop in time, some bumping into each other in their haste to obey the order. Theiden stopped as well, instinctively inhaling through his mouth to catch his breath and muffle the sounds of his heavy breathing. He knew this kind of strategy from game hunting. When he had lost the visible trail, he would stay silent and listen for the sounds of the animal's escape.