Secrets

The sun was casting long shadows into Anara's home before either she or Valen were moved to speak again. The first hour after they realized his mark had grown back he had been strangely silent, his head on the table and his shoulders shaking with what appeared to be silent tears. Anara had busied herself cleaning, straightening and otherwise attending to her household. She figured he needed some time to digest what had happened. Or not happened, as the case was.

The fire was low in the grate and there was no more wood in the house. She went outside to bring some in. When she walked through the door, Valen was sitting up and staring at her; his intense blue eyes burning like the sun.

"Do you know a mage?" he asked, his voice a mere croak.

She set the wood down in front of the fire, placing a few logs in and poking the embers into life. Flames began to curl around the new wood, and soon they were catching on fire. She turned then to find him still staring at her.

"No."

His shoulders slumped as the hope flew out of him. He held his head in his hands, despairing of ever being free from the clutches of the Balor. It was only a matter of time before someone or something showed up to claim him for Grimash't.

"Wait," Anara said, a thoughtful and far away look on her face. She bit her nails as she thought, and then she said, "I don't know a mage, but I know someone who might."

Valen raised his head up from the table, his arms splayed out in front of him. "Who?" he asked.

"Her name is Rothol. She is a hedge witch out in the forest. She deals in potions and charms for the locals, and I've seen her come into town once or twice to set up some wards. If anyone in the area knows, she would."

Valen perked up a little at the news. It was a start. It was better than having nothing. "Great. How long will it take to get to her house?"

Anara paused in biting her nails and looked up at him, a little startled. "Well, that's the problem. I don't exactly know where she is. But I suspect my friend Cara does."

"So all we have to do is talk to this Cara person and find out where the witch lives?" he said.

"It's not that simple. Cara probably won't admit to knowing where Rothol lives. You see, a few years ago Cara fell hard for a man that wouldn't give her the time of day. She became obsessed with him – she followed him around, she tried seducing him, tried everything she could to get him to notice her. Finally, one night, after a town dance, she point blank asked him to bed her. He turned her down. Said he wasn't interested in her – told her she wasn't pretty enough for the likes of him." Anara took a deep breath and put her hands into her lap to avoid chewing on her nails.

Confusion reigned over Valen's face. It was obvious that he didn't see where the story was going. Anara smiled at him.

"I suspect that Cara must have gone to Rothol for a love tincture, because just a few days after that dance the object of her affections was seen following her around with puppy dog eyes and begging her to be his wife. I sat up with her after that dance – she was devastated that he wanted nothing to do with her. And she was mad that he had the gall to tell her she wasn't pretty enough. Most of the men in town think she's the prettiest woman around. So something pretty drastic must have happened to change his mind."

"So you don't think she'll tell you where this Rothol is, because then she'd have to admit that she's been to the woman's cottage," Valen said, trying to piece the story together in his mind.

"Right. And admitting that she's been there, if it gets around, could have some very nasty consequences for her. Everyone in town knew she adored Jacen, and that he didn't return her affections. The abrupt turn around was noticed by more than just me. People speculated for months that she had gone to the witch's place or something even more sinister. It's a small town – people gossip. Now she's pregnant and Jacen, the few times I've seen him since Liam's death, walks around with the look of a trapped animal."

"And this woman is your friend? She's probably enslaved that man to a life he didn't want to live!" The tiefling rose up out of his seat and began pacing around the small kitchen area. "I can't believe…"

"It's a small community, you can't be too picky about who your friends are. Besides, I haven't had any friends since Liam died. I hadn't even been into town until two days after I dragged you back here from the forest. I don't agree with what she did. I haven't really spoken with her since. So don't go getting all high and mighty on me. I'm just telling you the story so you know the difficulty I could have trying to get the location of Rothol's cottage."

"Surely there are others who know where the witch lives?" he asked, stopping next to her in his path across the floor.

"There is no one who will admit to knowing the location of her cottage. Everyone in the village is ashamed of her: they think it will bring shame to them to admit they used her concoctions."

"Does your friend Dayfid know?"

"Ha! Even if he did, which I seriously doubt, he would be the last person in town to admit it. Even to me, he would keep that a secret. No, Cara is the best chance we have if we want to find out where she is, short of running into Rothol in town."

He was standing right behind her, the heat coming off his body a palpable thing. For a moment, her breath quickened – she remembered what it was like to have a man in the house. The musky smell of him after a hard days work; his strong hands kneading her shoulders; the way his kiss could make her weak in the knees. And here was another man, standing right next to her, that same musky odor filling her nostrils.

Then the moment was gone and she came back to herself. "I'll saddle up Violet and ride into town. If anyone can get Cara to talk, it's me. You'll have to stay here." Then Anara arose from her spot at the table and walked out the door without a second glance behind her.