~49~ Letting Slip a Secret

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"Valas, I've got some news," Theiden said, leaning in over the baker's counter and giving a surreptitious look over his shoulder for any eavesdroppers. As it was late morning and in-between mealtimes, the bakery was empty aside from the two of them, but Theiden felt it a necessary gesture nonetheless.

"What is it?" Valas wiped his hands on his apron and brushed a stray bit of flour off the countertop before giving Theiden his full attention.

"I think I have a lead on the murder of the guards at the north river gate," Theiden said. "I think I know what the witch that killed them is up to."

Valas's eyes widened, the gleam of eagerness in their depths like a glowing ember about to catch fire.

"Well, do tell!" the baker exclaimed.

"That man, Mr. Eltwen, who you referred the witch hunters to--"

"The bookkeeper, yes," Valas recalled, nodding. "What about him?"

Theiden slapped his palms on the countertop. "They're related, Valas! Can you believe it? That man is the father of a witch!"

Valas's mouth dropped open, wide enough to shove a whole slice of cake into. "What? How did you find this out?"

Now confident he had the baker's full attention, Theiden turned to lean an elbow on the counter and withdrew an object from his coat pocket with his other hand, setting it down on the countertop with a delicate clink.

Valas started in silence for a few moments at the glossy red and gold vessel in front of him. "It's a teacup."

Theiden shook his head. "Not just any teacup. It's the witch's teacup. I saw her use it during the time I was her prisoner. She uses it for scrying.  Here--put some water in and I'll show you how it works."

Valas took a step back, hands raised. "I don't want to mess with any witchcraft," he said. "I believe you. But how did you find this?"

Theiden pocketed the teacup. "I went back to search around the river gate and found it beneath a tree just beyond the city wall above the riverbank," he explained. "She must have dropped it in her escape." It had taken a long time to convince Kivirra to hand Gil over, but he wasn't about to admit that truth anytime soon.

"So the old man is the witch's father?" Valas mused. "Well, I suppose that does make sense as to why he would be so willing to help her infiltrate the city." He looked hopefully at Theiden. "Would you mind if I was the one who brought this news to the witch hunters?"

"Of course," Theiden said. "But don't tell them about this teacup yet, would you?" He patted his pocket. "It's shown me there's about to be a big event in the central plaza tonight. The image was a bit cloudy, but I think the witch is going to be there, to enact her revenge on the city. And I'd like to have a head start on catching her. I'm sure you understand."

"Well, after what she's put you through, of course it's understandable," Valas said, but his smile was stretched too wide.

Theiden returned the expression with a nod of thanks and turned to leave, letting the door shut none-too-gently behind him on his way out.

He pretended not to notice the brown hooded figure in the shadows of the next building over as he passed. And when the baker's shop door clicked opened and closed again, this time accompanied by the grinding of a key in a lock, Theiden did not turn to watch as the hooded figure detached itself from its hiding place and followed after the baker as he hurried to inform the witch hunters of his latest acquired knowledge.

The house was silent when Theiden returned.

For a brief minute, Theiden allowed himself to remember how the house had once been: filled with laughter as a younger Em ran around the sitting room during a winter holiday gathering, chased by her uncle, while Malisse shook her head at her brother's antics and stole a bite of crumb tart from Theiden's idle hand. The house would be filled with delicious smells as his mother prepared the large noonday meal.

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