Thanks to Dapplegrim, it didn't take long for the two to quickly leave the patrol in the dust. There were no booster seats in Corsythia, so Jasper was forced to cradle the little girl on the saddle in front of him. Though she'd been lethargic and barely responsive at first, fortunately it seemed Djinn were made of sterner stuff than humans. Despite being out in the cold for two days, once the blanket was wrapped tight around her, the color began to flood back into her cheeks, while at the same time, the dangerous redness on her hands dissipated, leaving behind no signs of ruinous frostbite.

Though the road was icy and riddled with craters, Dapplegrim picked her way through with the surety of a mountain goat. After a few minutes, the forest fled behind them as the first signs of civilizations sprang into view. Humble farms lined the roads, accompanied by cramped fields that were far smaller than the ones back home. Some lay fallow, but despite the snowy conditions, small heads of green flourished in most of them, sprouting with a vegetable that resembled cabbage.

Gradually, the farms shrunk in size as the houses clustered together to form a small village. A bit bigger than a simple hamlet, the small community boasted a few attractions: a solitary tavern, around which a few stalls hawked their wares, and a run-down shrine to S̆ams̆a whose roof had caved in one side.

Jasper slowed the horse as they galloped into town, and pulled up in front of the lonely tavern. Sliding off Dapplegrim's back, he reached for the girl to lift her out of the saddle. Something cold and small bounced off his back, accompanied by a young boy's indignant cry.

“Hey, what are you doing with Nūratīli?”

Jasper sat her down gently before turning to face his assailant, who was already loading up with another snowball. As he did so, an older man ran up hastily. Smacking the snowball out of the child's hand, the man bowed deeply. “I’m sorry, my lord," he said, wiping an unnatural amount of sweat from his face. "The boy didn't know better. He meant no harm.”

"Don't worry about it," Jasper chuckled. “I'm hardly going to melt from a bit of snow." He bent down toward the boy. "But it sounds like you can help me. You called this girl Nūratīli?”

The boy started to speak, but the man squeezed his arm tightly, and he fell silent. The elder spoke up instead. “Yes, my lord. She’s the daughter of Ikkarīl. You must have ridden past your farm on the way into town.” He hesitated slightly before continuing. “Can I ask, my lord, what you’re doing with the child? Did she give offense way?”

“Of course not," Jasper scoffed. "I don't kidnap children."

The beads of sweat on the elder's forehead multiplied. "I meant no offense, my lord. It's just...well, our local lord has been known to take offense to the children's words."

"Sounds like a dick," Jasper grunted, "but, I promise you, I'm just trying to help. My men were out on patrol when we found the poor thing in the ditch. It seemed like she came from here, so I was hoping there was someone in the village who could take care of her.”

The man’s face clouded over. “She was in a ditch alone? Without her parents?”

“There was no sign of them. She wasn't exactly talkative, but from what I gathered, it sounded like they’d gone to see some sort of…” he fumbled for the unfamiliar word for a second, and then it came back to him, “qas̆pa? Is that the word? But that was two days ago.”

“Those fools!” The elder's face contorted in an angry grimace. “I warned them against visiting that witch.”

“Is she really that dangerous,” Jasper asked.

“It would seem so,” the man sighed deeply. “The local qas̆pa has been part of our community since I was a small child. She used to come to the market each week to sell her salves and potions and attended village festivals. No one feared her. But in the last year or two, something has changed."

"What happened?"

"At first, she simply stopped coming to the village. It was odd, but not disturbing, but in the last few months, two of our people have gone missing.”

“And you think she’s responsible?”

“Both men were heard talking about visiting her in the days before they vanished.”

“That’s not exactly proof,” Jasper replied with a frown. “I’m sure people get lost in the forest all the time.”

The man bent down to the little boy whose arm he was holding and whispered something in his ear. He watched as the child scampered away before continuing.

“That is not the only reason, my lord. In both cases, we found the bones of the missing men scattered across the road a few days later.”

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“They couldn’t have been taken by some animals, could they?” He questioned.

The villager shook his head. “There were no teeth marks on the bones, my lord. Even after they died and their bones were scattered by the road, the animals remained unwilling to touch them.”

“Why?”

“The bones were…corrupted. We handled them with all care and buried them beneath S̆ams̆a’s, but even still, several of us got ill. There may be no proof the qas̆pa is guilty, my lord, but I would swear it on my life. I warned Ikkaril and his wife against going - all the villagers against going. I thought they had listened, but it seems I was wrong,” he finished with a deep sigh.

He reached out and gently patted the child on the head. “Do you want to go see your aunt, Nūratīli?”

The girl nodded solemnly and the elder looked up at Jasper for permission to take her. Jasper knew he was probably being paranoid, but the village of cultists he’d encountered shortly after arriving loomed large in his mind. Deciding he wasn't willing to hand her off without a little investigation, he suggested an alternative. “Why don’t I take her to her aunt?"

With the elder leading the way, the three passed through the small town square and headed toward the ramshackle shrine. He was a bit surprised to see that the shrine was not abandoned; a wizened priest in a white robe sat outside the entrance and raised his hand in blessing as the elder approached. The elder merely nodded back, but as they passed by the shrine, Jasper flipped a gold coin to the man.

It was only a minute later when they reached the aunt's house. The small cottage was a bit rundown, with the green paint that had once adorned its walls faded nearly to nothing, but the clean and orderly yard and the fresh thatch on the roof attested to an owner who took care of it as best as they could.

As they approached, the elder raised his voice. "Qarah! Qarah, come quick!"

The door swung open with a creak, and a thin woman with streaks of gray running through her once raven hair stepped through.

“Nūrah!” With a joyful cry, the little girl squirmed free of Jasper’s hand and raced toward the woman, who scooped her up in a big hug, and Jasper felt better immediately about leaving her there.

“Nūratilī,” the woman laughed, “Did you come to see me all on your own? Where is your mother?” As she saw Jasper standing behind the elder, worry gathered in her eyes. "Why are you here, S̆ēleb? And with a noble?"

The elder cleared his throat. “I'm afraid, Nūrah, I have some bad news. The lord here told me that Ikkaril and Is̆s̆ah went to see the qas̆pa."

The woman's face crumpled and she clutched the girl to her chest. “I had feared they might do something like that," she admitted sadly. "I told Is̆s̆ah not to go, but they were so desperate. After Maraddan died, there was no one to help on the farm and with Ikkaril’s bad leg, he just couldn't keep up with the work anymore…” Sadness filled her eyes as she trailed off.

"So the qas̆pa was a healer," Jasper asked the woman.

"Not strong enough to heal his leg, my lord. But her fertility potions were responsible for many of the children in this village, Nūrah included," she said hugging the child tighter. "Where did you find Tilī, my lord?"

"She was in a ditch beside the road. Said her parents had left her there a few days ago."

"And their bodies? Was there any sign of them?" she asked hopefully.

Jasper shook his head. “My men saw nothing but the child. I sent a few to search the woods, though. Maybe they're still alive,” he added hopefully.

The elder beside him stilled. “My lord, I don’t mean to be presumptuous, but are you sure your men are safe? A qas̆pa can be quite dangerous.”

He started to reassure the man, but the words died on his lips. What do I really know about qas̆pa? “I’m afraid I’m not particularly familiar with them,” he admitted candidly. “Maybe you can tell me a little more about them.”

----------------------------------------

The two split up and Erin circled in a wide arc around the building while keeping an eye out for any sign of trouble. As they got closer, Erin could finally see the qas̆pa’s building. At first glance, he took it for a log cabin surrounded by an oddly high number of small trees that had sprouted close to the foundations. Though a bit run down, the scene was sort of pretty in a rustic, pastoral sense.

The soldier’s concerns about danger proved not entirely unreasonable. As they got closer, Erin realized that the snow and the thick foliage beneath the trees hid a row of bear traps, cruel metal claws waiting to maim the leg of any unwary travelers. Save for the bear traps, though, there was no sign of trouble. Indeed, there was no sign of life at all, aside from the thin plume of grey smoke that rose from the hole in the top of the thatched roof.

Yet, his uneasiness continued to grow. As he crept within fifty feet of the small cottage, Erin realized that the rough wooden walls had no logs in them. Instead, the rows of trees that were clustered around the home were fused directly into the building itself and their boughs stretched unnaturally wide and long to form the walls between them. Damn it. A qas̆pa must be a type of mage.

He crept closer to the building and saw the tracks once again emerge from the forest. The twin pair of footprints led directly to the cottage door, but none came out.

Erin fingered his sword nervously, not finding much comfort in the frigid, metal grip. He hadn’t come expecting a fight, but the mere presence of a mage was enough to make him nervous. There were just two of them and…

His eyes narrowed as he searched for the soldier he’d come with. Where the hell is Dannu? Retreating from the door, he carefully crept back toward the direction they’d come from, to where the soldier should have been. After a few minutes of searching, he found the man’s tracks.

Dannu had continued in a straight line toward the cottage, following the tracks of the villagers, but his footprints abruptly stopped. The snow around them was disturbed, as if there’d been a short scuffle, but there was no sign of any other footprints, nor had Erin heard anything. Still, a cold bead of sweat formed on his brow as he reached the obvious conclusion - the soldier had been taken by the qas̆pa. We should never have split up.

Something crunched in the snow behind him, and Erin whirled around, fumbling with his sword, but only darkness greeted his eyes. Darkness and a firm thump on the head. He was out before he hit the snow.