With that, Eve turned to her table of mortar and pestle, resuming some task involving dried nettles and a jar of thick amber liquid. Havyn cast a sidelong glance at Selene, who still looked pale but more comfortable. The rhythmic patter of rain against the shutters filled the herbalist's home with a subdued lull.
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They remained quiet for the better part of an hour, letting Eve work in peace. Havyn occupied himself by scanning the shelves of jars—some labeled with scratchy writing: "Feverfew," "Yellowroot," "Lark's Claw." Others bore cryptic symbols or no labels at all. He wondered if Eve's apothecary knowledge came close to the natural attunement of a druid, or if her remedies were purely mundane. Either way, the potions here smelled far kinder than the dark magic that had nearly claimed them underground.
Selene had dozed briefly, lulled by the salve's numbing effects, but she awoke with a soft groan, dragging a hand across her face. Eve, evidently finishing her own task, turned around and regarded them both.
"All right," she said brusquely. "I can see you've got questions dancing in your heads. Outsiders always do. Speak up, so I can decide if you're trouble."
Havyn met Selene's eyes, silently asking permission. She gave a tiny nod. He cleared his throat. "Harwick mentioned folks disappearing. We've run across… cultists, deeper in the wilds. People who might be kidnapping or worse. Is that what's happening here?"
Eve's mouth tightened, and she cast a glance at the closed shutters. "You've spoken to Harwick, so you know something's off. Yes, people vanish—farmhands, travelers, even some local hunters. Sometimes we find blood or scraps of cloth, but no bodies. Some blame bandits, some say it's beasts. But others whisper about robed figures in the woods at night."
Selene's grip on the edge of the stool tightened. "Robed figures," she repeated in a whisper.
Eve nodded. "Likely nonsense, but rumor spreads fast. The last time we had such talk was decades ago, when an old witch cult was discovered near Blackthorn. The baron's men wiped them out… or so we thought." She snorted. "Baron's men rarely finish a job proper."
Havyn exchanged a knowing look with Selene. The "old witch cult" might be an echo of the Daughters of the Abyss, or some related group. He carefully kept his expression neutral. "So people are on edge. That's why they're suspicious of magic?"
The herbalist gave a humorless laugh. "Folk are always suspicious of magic if they don't understand it. But yeah, they're more jumpy now. The last traveling magician who passed through got chased off by an angry mob when a child went missing a day later. Ugly business."
Selene swallowed. "Have there been any… signs of these robed figures near the village itself?"
Eve frowned. "Harwick might know more than he's telling. Sometimes lights appear in the hills at night. More than once I've seen them flicker outside my window—a few distant points in the darkness—only to vanish if I go investigate."
Havyn felt his pulse quicken. "And no one tries to follow them?"
The older woman's lips curled wryly. "We're a small place, short on brave souls. Harwick leads the men on patrol if something stirs, but we can't risk half the town chasing shadows while leaving the rest undefended. We do what we can."
Selene lowered her gaze. "Sounds like you're all caught between caution and fear."
"Yes," Eve said, her tone laced with frustration. "That's life here. Cinderbrook used to be a decent spot for trade. Now? Folks just survive, day by day."
Silence fell, the air thick with unspoken tension. Havyn reached for Selene's hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. He could sense her inner turmoil—the memories of the Daughters, the cruelty she'd endured, the horrifying possibility that the cult was active in these parts.
Eve broke the silence with a curt gesture. "If you're planning to stay in this town a while, you'd best earn trust quickly. Otherwise, even Harwick's permission won't keep trouble from your door."
Havyn nodded. "We'll keep our heads down. Is there anything we can do for you, or for the village? You mentioned fence-mending or herb-gathering."
The herbalist's eyes flicked to Selene. "She's not exactly in shape to trek far, so maybe you do the errands, and she helps me prep potions in the meantime."
Selene tensed. "Potions?"
Eve raised an eyebrow. "You can follow simple instructions, can't you? Chop leaves, measure powders, that sort of thing. I won't let you near the heavy stuff unless you prove trustworthy, but I can use an extra hand." She paused, a faint smirk crossing her lips. "Besides, it'll be out of the public eye, so the good folk of Cinderbrook don't start making assumptions about you."
Selene forced a thin smile. "I appreciate the discretion."
The older woman nodded. "We'll see if you're worth the trouble. As for you," she said to Havyn, "I do need some particular roots from the woods just north of here. White creeper root, to be exact. Grows in damp, shady spots near fallen logs. Don't mix it up with black creeper root, or you'll kill my patients. Understood?"
Havyn managed a wry half-grin. "White creeper. Got it."
"I'll write you a note describing it, but your druid nose might help," Eve said, eyes lingering on his bruises. "You are a druid, aren't you? I sense that tinge of wild magic about you."
He exchanged a quick glance with Selene. "Something like that."
Eve's gaze held a flicker of curiosity, but she didn't press. Instead, she limped over to a small desk near the wall, rummaging for a scrap of parchment and a charcoal stick. "You can start tomorrow, if the storm settles. For now, you two had best get yourself to that spare cot Harwick mentioned. It's behind the old workshop near the well. There's an awning that'll keep the worst of the rain off. Cozy, it's not."
Selene sighed, sliding off the stool. "Anything is better than sleeping in the open again."
Havyn fetched the note from Eve, skimming the hastily drawn illustration of a slender root topped by pale buds. White creeper indeed. He folded it, tucking it safely in his pouch. "Thank you," he said, meeting the herbalist's steady gaze. "We won't forget this."
Eve shrugged, the corners of her mouth softening. "Don't be a fool and get killed out there. Then my investment is wasted." She motioned to the door, unbarring it. "Go on. Rain's letting up a bit."