The Witch Hunters, Book 1: The Prophet of Ash

Sleep came, in time. Amid the shadows the children he had laid out in the warehouse were here again. They stood in the doorway, staring at him. Despite the sheer darkness he found himself in, Theo could see a glint from their empty eyes. In his dream he stood then, strode to the window, and all the dead people he had found here were standing now outside, staring in at him. It went on, and on…

A horse whinnied outside. Theo’s eyes snapped open at once. He was up on his feet in a second, his mind a whirl as he looked about in the living room. The fire was nearly out. He went to the window where the dead people had been spying on him and looked out into the yard. The moon had become enveloped in cloud, so it was difficult to make anything out. He saw dark figures, heard multiple horses. Theo eased the window open so he might hear the newcomers better. He heard Klara’s voice then, as she ordered her apprentice to tether the horses. Theo released a breath he had not known he was holding. They were here. His friends were here. Someone with more sense and experience than he could take over now. The relief he felt almost made him forget the horror of the place he had found himself in, for a few minutes at least. He put a few bits of wood on the fire, used a little burning bit of kindling to light up as many candles he could find. He heard voices outside calling his name. He went out then on unsteady legs and trembling arms, holding up a candelabra in one hand.

“I’m here!” he called out. He tried to take a count of everyone he saw in the yard. There were more people than he expected. The light drew his visitors to him, and Theo felt his relief grow with his number of allies. Klara hadn’t just come, but so had Eisengrim, and Dietrich, too! The minotaur smiled, and gripped the wrist of his human mentor.

“You have no idea how glad I am to see you all,” the young minotaur said, feeling his voice weaken a little. It all came flooding back then. His demeanour must have changed for the worse, for Klara put a hand on his shoulder to steady him. “I’m alright,” he lied, before anyone could ask him. “This place…it’s become hell.”

“What’s you’re report?” a voice called from beyond the little circle that had gathered around him. Eisengrim and Dietrich stood aside, and Prince Siegfried appeared then, looking authoritarian and afraid all at once. If he had hoped his presence would have stiffened his subordinate’s spine, he was to be disappointed.

Theo relayed everything he had discovered, and done, since he had arrived. It had been difficult to talk about the children, for he saw Gerda coming to join them. When he saw Kurt behind her, the minotaur felt his blood go cold, and it took some prompting from Eisengrim to get him to talk again.

“They’re all dead,” Theo said, his eyes meeting Kurt’s. He became aware of his free hand moving on its own, taking out the notes he had made, and handing them to Eisengrim. “Everyone’s dead, Kurt. I am so sorry…”

Kurt did not seem to hear him. He stared right through his friend, remaining silent, until Theo finally worked up the courage stand before him and grip his arm. The minotaur caught the man deftly as he fell, and held him tightly as he began to scream.

*

“It’s not him.”

The warehouse, which had been eerily silent up into this point, turned icy. Siegfried came forward, stood beside the pale, weeping man.

“Are you sure, Mr. Bauer?”

Kurt nodded, hugging himself tightly. “That’s Andrej,” he croaked. “His parents have been working with me since Sabine and I…he was born here. Oh my god. How am I going to tell Frederich?”

“He’s probably under one of these blankets too,” Janus said with a shrug. “So I wouldn’t worry.”

“Janus,” Klara growled, turning on her apprentice. “Shut up!”

“Why?” the runner replied, looking puzzled. “It’s not like pretending is going to make the boy’s father any more alive than the rest of the corpses here. People die all the time. It is the will, and the whim, of the gods. The world is their playground, and we’re their toys.”

“Keep your false faith to yourself,” Klara said then. She pointed to the door. “Take your blasphemies outside!” The runner glared poisonously at his mistress, but obeyed.

“Are you certain?” Eisengrim asked. He had said little, but observed much. A thought had entered his head, as he had explored the house and the surrounding grounds, after he had read the notes Theo had given him. Judging by the look on Dietrich’s face, the old veteran suspected he was not the only one to have these frightening notions.

The human man could not speak just then. He nodded weakly to the senior hunter.

“Your Grace, may I have a word?”

Eisengrim led the Prince back outside, then around the corner of the building so they wouldn’t be heard. Dietrich joined them after a few seconds delay.

“What is it?” asked Siegfried.

“Your Grace,” the minotaur began slowly. “I have a hypothesis about what might have happened. It may be difficult for you to hear.”

The minotaur watched the Prince, gauging his reaction to this. He seemed to squirm under his thick, heavy cloak, his face becoming a shade paler in the weak moonlight. Perhaps the idea Eisengrim intended to share had already occurred to this young man?

“Go on,” the Prince said.

“The human boy Theo found is not Mr. Bauer’s son. According to Theo, and his notes, he found the boy in the kitchen with another child, that Scaled one he lay down beside him. There is evidence of three people sharing food and libations in the kitchen, yet Theo only encountered two bodies there, as well as a third upstairs, a much older minotaur who seemed to be counting money.”

“So there’s a body missing,” Siegfried said immediately, his eyes lighting up, his face contorting in disgust. “Mr. Bauer’s son?”

“I think it is likely, yes.”

“Why would they take his son’s body?”

“It seems more likely that the boy did this, sir,” said Dietrich then. He looked nervous, kept glancing over his shoulder at the tiny slither of light coming from the warehouse door.

“How can you say that?” the Prince asked, clearly horrified. Eisengrim stared at the King’s nephew in growing confusion. “Why would the boy kill his friends? How?”

“Do you really not see what’s happened here, sir? This was magic! Everyone here is dead, sir. Bauer’s son is missing. His body should be in the warehouse beside his little friends, but’s not. It had to be him!”

“Take it easy, Dietrich,” Eisengrim said then. He patted his friend gently on the shoulder, trying to calm him, before turning his attention to the Prince. “Your Grace, may I ask what you think happened here?”

“Look, I am not disputing that is was magic,” Siegfried answered, speaking slowly. “This much is obvious. I’ve read enough of the books to know what the signs of its use are, but I don’t think the boy is responsible for this. You say that there is evidence of three people eating in the kitchen, but Theo only found two bodies. Very well, but that does not mean it was the child casting spells that did this.”

“What makes you say that, your Grace?”

“Well, the kitchen door. It was kicked in. Theo said so himself. If it was the boy…why would he kick his own door in? If it was someone else, then why didn’t Theo find their body? I’ve read enough about this to know that when a spell’s cast, it takes everything from all nearby living creatures at once. If someone kicked in the door, and let’s say that startled the boy in such a way for him to lash out with magic, where is the body of the other person in the kitchen?”

“That is an interesting point,” Eisengrim said, nodding. That had not occurred to him, and it annoyed the minotaur greatly. “But if it was not the boy, and we assume then that he was killed, why is his body not here?”

“Well,” Siegfried said, looking uncertain and embarrassed. “It is possible that his body was taken for…harvesting.”

Eisengrim sighed, covered his face with one of his hands. He could swear he heard Dietrich roll his eyes. “Your Grace, I know I have said this before, but you really shouldn’t trust anything Hauser’s book says about witches.”

“Why not?” the Prince asked, getting defensive. “We know runner elders use fetishes to try and cast spells. They can be totems, or dolls made of bones, or even shrunken heads or hands from fallen enemies. They believe it allows them to harness the power of their foes. How do you know there isn’t a witch out there that believes in this?”

“That would suggest there is a witch around here that has been practising their magic, your Grace, and if that was the case there would have been reports of deaths far sooner than now.”

“Besides, that nonsense doesn’t work,” Dietrich cut in. “It’s all about will, not infusing power into inanimate objects, or channelling magic through something.”

“But how do we know? Just because neither of you have seen it doesn’t mean what you’re saying is accurate.”

“Those who can cast magic do so for the first time out of an emotional reaction,” Eisengrim said, lowering his voice in the hope of encouraging his peers to do likewise. This was not a conversation he wanted the weeping man inside the warehouse to be anywhere near. “Almost always, it’s done in childhood. There’s been one case in the last century where magic was exhibited in a male runner at the age of fifteen. What I am saying your Grace, is that if your hypothesis is correct, we would be dealing with a witch that has survived into adulthood, who not only has remained undetected as they use their magic, but has also tried to educate themselves on it.”

“Or they could be some tribal lunatic like Janus,” Dietrich said. Eisengrim glared at his friend. This was not helping.

“Look,” the Prince said then. “We can agree that whatever happened here, the person responsible has moved on, yes? We’ll need to track them down. I know Gerda was an actual hunter before she became one of us. Janus was one, too. We could have them start tracking down whoever did this. Since they probably killed all the horses here, it’s not like they will be getting far.”

“What’s the nearest settlement beyond here where they could take shelter for the night?” asked Eisengrim.

“No idea,” said Dietrich. “I don’t know this area.”

“I didn’t bring a map,” said Siegfried.

Eisengrim sighed. “Very well. It is too dark to start any kind of hunt just now. We’ll bed down in the house for the night, and then send out Gerda at first light. We shall send Mr. Bauer back to the Palace with orders to bring some men-at-arms out here to help him organise dealing with the bodies.”

“What if he wants to come with us?” asked Siegfried.

“He can’t, your Grace. He is a civilian. He has neither the training, nor the means of protecting himself. He would be dead weight, up until the point he became dead.”

“Eisengrim’s right, sir. His son might be out there, but his son might also have done this. Do you really think it wise to bring him along, only for him to watch apprehend, or kill the boy?”

Siegfried bit his lip. After a moment, he turned to look back at the warehouse. “Very well. We send him back.”

“Send Janus back as well,” Eisengrim said then, with great authority.

“What?”

“He is not fit for this, your Grace.”

“Klara’s been training him for two years.”

“Klara has failed. Perhaps she never had a chance. Janus was never fit for this life. He has neither the patience, nor the respect. Tell him we are sending him back to make a formal report to the King, as well as to ensure Mr. Bauer reaches safety. That should hopefully appease him. At the end of the day, you are the Master of the Order, your Grace, but I must urge you: keep Janus out of this. This affair shall be dangerous enough, without us having to watch our backs, as well.”

The Prince sighed. “Very well.”