Forever Green

~ 43 ~ Interrogation Information

"Eltwen?" Theiden echoed, staring at the unrecognizable, dirty figure before them. "As in the bookkeeper, Nevitas Eltwen?" He fought to keep the horror from creeping up in his words. If the witch hunters suspected he had turned against their policies, he'd be thrown out in an instant.

But what had the bookkeeper done? He lived just a few streets over, and Theiden had taken Em to visit his shop on several occasions.

"Yes, him," Decliteur replied, still staring at the motionless figure kneeling on the cold stone flagstones. "The baker, Valas—you know him, don't you?—found an informant. Apparently, this man—" Decliteur pulled the bookkeeper's hair back to make Mr. Eltwen face them, "—has been helping witches get into the city."

Something akin to the shock of jumping in ice-cold river water ran through Theiden at the sight of the man. Mr. Eltwen's face was nearly unrecognizable, with cuts, bruises, and a swollen black eye. A glint of light in the corner of his vision had Theiden turning to look at the floor, where the shattered remains of the bookkeeper's spectacles reflected the flames off the mounted wall torch.

"He'd been tricking people into letting a witch into their homes," Colverne continued from the doorway of the cell. "The creature was feeding potions to children and casting curses in their homes, according to reports."

"Healing," a raspy voice contradicted. Theiden looked back to see that the bookkeeper had come to his senses, though his injured eye was still swollen shut. "She was healing them."

"So you admit it," Decliteur said, triumph creeping into his tone.

"Healin'? Demon's work, all a' it," Callan swore, hacking a glob of spit that landed just before Mr. Eltwen's knees. "Dealin' in potions—sounds like yer witch, don't it?" he asked, turning to Theiden.

"Uh, a bit, yeah," Theiden said, trying to ignore the furious rhythm of his heart, every beat warning him that this was wrong, wrong, wrong.

"Show 'im the herbs," Callan said.

Theiden took a deep breath and took out the sage from his pocket once more. Decliteur grabbed the bookkeeper's chin and turned him to face Theiden's way.

"Does that look familiar?" Decliteur hissed.

From where he was standing, Theiden could see the shock register in the bookkeeper's expression, though it was muted by the swelling and gashes on the man's face. It was a look of dread and fear—though not for his own life. Theiden hesitated. What relation would a nice old man like Mr. Eltwen have with Lenesa?

"Where is she?" the bookkeeper whispered.

"I'll take that as a yes," Decliteur said, dragging the bookkeeper by the hair so that he faced him once more. "Was it your witch that killed the woman picking berries in the forest this afternoon?"

Mr. Eltwen tried to shake his head, but Decliteur's grip in his hair hindered the motion. "She would never do that," he said, voice scratchy as straw.

"And the attack at the river gate several nights ago?" Decliteur challenged.

"It wasn't her," the bookkeeper replied.

"Colverne, get the sharpest blade you have," Deliteur ordered.

"She has black spirals on her skin, Mr. Eltwen," Theiden interrupted. All eyes had turned to face him now, but at least Colverne wasn't leaving to find something to chop off the bookkeeper's fingers with.

"I was held captive by her in the mountains this past Spring," Theiden explained. "I only saw those marks on other creatures who had given into evil intentions." Lenesa's explanation again echoed in his memory. "It means they've killed using their magic."