Nelle swallowed and nodded as her eyes welled.

“But we need to ask.” Lina leaned forward. “He mentioned that he was acquiring seeds for someone.”

“He acquired all sorts of things for all sorts of people,” Nelle whispered.

“Can you remember any of them?” Lina asked.

“They never came to the house.” She shook her head. “He always went out, kept us separate from his business.”

“Did he give you any names?” Bri asked, trying and failing to soften her words. “Anything would be helpful.”

“I know he used to work with the witch hunters, long ago back when they were still looking for red witches,” Nelle murmured. “He’d brag that the witch hunter king used to send jobs for him personally.” She frowned. “Whether that’s true or not is anyone’s guess.”

“We should go there,” Carys said. “See if it’s truly them behind this.”

“Venturing into the forest to interrogate a bunch of criminals isn’t a wise plan,” Lina countered. “We need more information first, information we can attain from the safety of Swifthill.”

Bri stretched her neck to the side. “We can take a few witch hunters.”

“And if they aren’t involved in the attacks?” Lina’s jewelry clinked as she whipped her head at Bri.

“Then they’ll know you are not to be trifled with.” Bri grinned back, delighting in the way she got under Lina’s steely exterior. “That you won’t suffer fools like your mother did.”

Carys kicked her with her heel and Bri smirked.

Lina ignored them, turning back to Nelle. “Any other things you can remember?”

“I’ll try to think . . .”

“It’s okay,” Lina said, resting her hand on Nelle’s forearm and smiling down at her baby. “Take your time.”

“Would you like to hold her?” Nelle asked, holding out the sleeping babe.

Lina lit up as she gingerly took the baby. Leaning carefully back in her chair, her arms instinctively bobbed the bundled infant up and down. The way Lina smiled down at that baby was nothing like the normal masks she wore. Her expression was open and vulnerable, as if the shrouds had been pulled back and the sunlight finally beamed from her soul, and something in Bri ached to see her with her own children one day—that beautiful duality of motherhood—gentleness mixed with the ferocity that would burn the world down to protect those she loved.

A flicker of recognition crossed Nelle’s face. “I don’t know if this is helpful, but Meson did sometimes bring home bread from the baker. . . . What was their name?” She looked up at the ceiling. “Maxfeld, I believe. I don’t know if he knows anything, but maybe.”