Page 3 of Beyond the Cottage

True, he’d ordered her not tokillanymore, but she always assumed it was with a wink and a nod. After all, Nat had as much reason to hate witches as Gretta did.

“I agree with Philip,” Brand said gently. “What would happen to you if you got caught?”

“What would happen toNat?” Philip asked. “How would it look if the voting public found out a member of his staff is a murderer? His chances of becoming chancellor would be shot.”

The word “staff” nearly brought Gretta’s liquor up. She loathed the reminder that her once revolutionary boss had traded his anti-witch uprising for an office in the capital. For all the legislative progress he’d made, his efforts remained toothless, essentially relegated to paper, and those pathetic efforts had all but ended once he’d decided to run for chancellor of Merecia.

Their country was one of few democracies in the world and the only one where someone like Nat could become head of state. To Gretta, he cared more about thefactof becoming chancellor than helping the citizens.

“Did you come all the way down here to lecture me?” she asked. “If so, you’ve wasted a trip.”

“I also came to check on your progress. You’ve been here for weeks, and our patience is wearing thin.”

Philip had no patience to begin with, but Nat’s lack of faith in her stung. She massaged her neck without responding.

“Did you learn anything new today, Gret?” Brand asked.

“Yes. A lot, actually.”

Philip crossed an ankle over his knee, his posture radiating skepticism.

“I got her physical description,” Gretta said to Brand. “Reddish hair, green cloak, and she’s old as dirt. She never comes to town, but some kids have seen her prowling around the bayou.” She stole another crayfish. “They’re lucky to be alive.”

“We already knew there was a witch living in the swamps,” Philip said. “What makes you think she’s illusion?”

Now that the conversation had landed on safer ground, Gretta kept her tone professional. “Enchanted objects have turned up on the local black market. Low-grade stuff, mostly. Magic mirrors, never-empty bottles of wine. But there’s also been a lot of beauty talismans floating around.”

“Beauty talismans,” Philip said.

“Yeah. Apparently, the mayor threw a ball for his daughter last month, and it was an absolute spectacle of feminine loveliness. There’s also been an uptick in poaching and burglaries, which means invisibility cloaks are on the market.”

“Illusion magic,” Brand said.

“Correct.” Gretta slurped the brains from her crayfish.

After contemplating a moment, Philip sighed. “That’s promising, but the Radiant Swamps are huge. Tracking her will be difficult, even for you.”

“I’ve mapped the entrance of every path and canal. I’ll find a guide, then I’ll find her.” Gretta was so close, she smelled theblood on the witch’s hands. If she could finally bring her in, Nat and Philip would have no choice but to get off her back.

“We can scrounge up a guide tomorrow,” Brand said.

Philip stuffed the newspaper in his bag. “I’m staying at the same inn as the two of you. We’ll meet out front at eight a.m. sharp.”

“Like hell,” she said. “This isn’t your job, go home.”

“Eight, Gretta. And I don’t want to hear about your hangover in the morning.”

She’d be out the door at dawn before she let Philip tag along on a hunt. At present, though, she was too exhausted for any more verbal sparring.

Philip slung his bag over his shoulder and stood. “I’m going to get settled in. I’ll see you both in the morning.” He strode away without saying goodbye, and Gretta dropped her forehead to her palm.

Brand lightly smoothed her ponytail. “Why do you always let him get to you?”

“Why does he always have to be such an uptight prick?” Philip was everything she hated about what their anti-witchcraft movement had become. Glacial, gutless, pathetically obsessed with public relations. They used to get thingsdone.

“Philip can be a prick,” Brand sighed. “But he has a point.”

“Oh, really.”

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