England, West Coast
Devonshire, Dartmoor
St. George, house of the Jäger family
5 November 1898, 8:35 pm

They covered the distance far more quickly this time. The forest rose like a sinister rampant to their side as they followed the narrow path to the Jäger Family's house, finally hearing the soft bleating of the small flock of sheep. In the darkness of the night, the scarecrow stretched its scrawny arms into the sky like a specter. All along the way, Kyle wavered between simmering resentment and guilt.

The thing with Elly haunted him like a sinister shadow of its own, making his hand tremble without him being able to do anything about it. Again and again, he wondered if he could have done something other than shoot. Whether he shouldn't have noticed the inconsistencies with Elly sooner. Why he hadn't recognized the signs. All the little things. The bloody flies or the smell!

Outwardly he always boasted so full of big words and imagined a lot about his arcane art and his knowledge in this field. But actually... he was still at the beginning of a long way. He had distrusted Elly, his gut had warned him. But he had ignored it. And that, in turn, caused frustration to bubble up. Had Elly been working with the old Mrs. Jäger all this time? Led her on false leads? Had it all been lies? But then why would she have mentioned the Jäger family and brought them into suspicion in the first place? None of this made any sense. Or maybe Elly just didn't want to be used anymore?

The old woman's motive, on the other hand, was not difficult to guess. Was the old woman more cunning than they had thought? What if she had given Elly the book and simply used her as a tool of revenge? Or did she want the girl as a scapegoat in her revenge plot? Kyle pressed his lips together and kept his eyes glued to the wooden door. There was barely any light burning inside, at most probably the smoldering residual coals of the fire.

"Let's put an end to this." Dr. Archer's darker soaked voice sounded beside him and Kyle just nodded. The lump in his stomach and throat was too tight.

This time Dr. Archer's fists bounced far less politely against the old wood. The door trembled under the blows as if sensing the storm rolling before it. When no sign of a response followed, Dr. Archer hammered on it even more forcefully.

"Mrs. Jäger! Open it now or we'll break down the door!" his voice rang loudly into the night. A menacing sound behind a threat they would not hesitate to carry out. Dr. Archer pulled the gun from its holster and clasped the revolver in both hands, ready to fire. Muscles tensed under his clothes, tightening at his neck and shoulders, making the man appear a few inches taller than he already was.

A prancing light finally appeared in the parlor, followed by rapid but firm footsteps.

"Who's there?" barked no less irritably from the other side.

"Archer and Crowford! Open the door! " demanded the former soldier in the voice of a man who knew how to use the color of his vocal cords. Perhaps it was also in the blood of his high-born name. The combination of the night and the hardness of his features made his facial expressions appear sinister and threatening. For the first time, Kyle thought to himself, he didn't want Archer to be the enemy.

There was a click, the scrape of the latch, then the door opened and the old lady welcomed them with a questioning yet subliminally annoyed expression. Long strands of silver-white hair lay in a braided plait over her shoulder. She wore a thick woolen robe that reached to her knees to brave the cold that crept all the more inside with the gate open. "What has happened?" she ventured to ask sternly, even raising a finger to her lips reprovingly. "The child is asleep! Can't you keep it down?"

A vein throbbed at Dr. Archer's neck as his eyes narrowed. He immediately put his hand to the gate, pushed it open wider, and pushed his way into the house towards the woman."What are you doing?!" His threatening demeanor caused her posture to change immediately, for a moment Kyle even thought he saw a fear flash in her eyes.

Kyle followed directly after Dr. Archer, glancing at the child's left bedroom door and for a second almost feeling remorse or pity. But no matter what had happened to their poor parents or how hard people made it for them - it did not justify these murders! Before Kyle's eyes, the washed-out images of poor, tattered Sandra and Elly flashed by. The dead widow. The names in the files are all the victims.

"Mrs. Jäger." His voice, too, took on the harsh tone of a man who had not come here to exchange friendly superficiality. They would not be fooled any further. "You know very well why we are here. The murder cases in the village." He began, reaching under his coat.

"Omama?" the delicate voice, tired and sluggish from sleep rolled into the room like sugar candy. Far too innocent for the tense mood that charged the air and made it noticeably thicker. The German dialect resonated unmistakably with the question. Glances flew around, latching onto the little girl standing in the doorway with wild curls, barefoot. Master Lamp was held by her small hands and the child rubbed the back of her hand over her blinking eyes. When she saw that the two strangers were there and recognized the gun in Archer's hands, she uttered a hoarse cry of shock that choked in her throat.

"Anna." Her grandmother immediately turned to the child and raised both hands. "Go to your room. All is well." She said it and yet you could hear the unmistakable tremor in her voice. Nothing was all right. They were sorry for the child. But they would not let a witch go on murdering!

"Go to your room little one," Kyle said with a serious but forced calm tone.

The girl stood there, motionless and full of terrible incomprehension. Then the little light made tears shine in her eyes, which shortly afterward were already rolling down cheeks full of freckles. The girl sobbed, pulled up her nose noisily, and then fled to the safety of her room where she slammed the door.

For a few moments the place lay oppressively between them, then the old woman fixed her gaze again on the men who had invaded her home. The two Seekers, on the other hand, flexed their muscles anew at the witch-killer.

"We know what they did Mrs. Jäger. So stop with the lies! The Father denied you worship and is dead. The landlord was cruel to your granddaughter - and is dead. So are poor Marie and her friend Sandra. I don't know what little Viktor did to them. I strongly suspect that he too had teased Anna. But none of that justifies murder!" Kyle's voice cut into the dim darkness of the house.

"I don't know what you're talking about! I have nothing to do with any of this!" the old woman now justified herself. Although she tried to speak calmly, her voice also kept rising in pitch."Don't lie to us!" hissed Kyle, unwilling to listen to these lies any longer. "They take what they want. When the widow stopped selling you food, they just stole it. You are a witch Helga!" he uttered accusingly.

The old woman clenched her jaw so tightly that a vein in her cheeks twitched. "You're crazy!" She pressed out. It sounded breathless and pressed.

"I said no more games!" Kyle's fingers were now going into his inner pockets again. "We know what you are! We know you're involved in the murders!" Kyle slammed the book flat on the table. A loud bang rang out in the room, jarring everyone's tense nerves. "This is YOUR grimoire! It's embossed in YOUR name! JÄGER!"

He saw the old woman staring at the grimoire, her eyes as big as saucers. Yet there it lay. Wrapped in worn and greasy leather.

Kyle reached for the cover, threw it open, and pointed for a moment at the name emblazoned there. Then his fingers ran over the pages, digging into the thick papers until he opened to the page of a very specific spell: the one for opening and closing locks and gates. The rune with the instructions of the spell he had found on the door of the inn.

"This is YOUR spell book. YOU gave it to Elly. Did she do the killing for them or did they have to pull the strings themselves? Did they have to get rid of the girl now because she was getting too rebellious? Because she didn't want to give them everything anymore? Or did she get scared after they murdered the landlord?" his voice cut harshly into the darkness.

Mrs. Jägers's head snapped up. "Elly Oldren had it?" she whispered so softly that it was lost among the racing heartbeats of those present, like a tumbling leaf in a torrent. Dr. Archer held the pistol tightly in his hands, aimed precisely at the old woman. "Was it for revenge? For her son and his wife? Do you think his death justifies their retaliation against the village and its inhabitants?!" With each successive word, the ice in his voice seemed to crack anew. While a fire blazed in Kyle's chest, sending sparks to his hand, the frozen fjords in Archer's world seemed to crunch. The old woman, on the other hand, seemed to lose her features completely. Her face was blank at first, then her eyes widened even more and her gaze slid from one of the men to the other.

"I didn't murder anyone!" She repeated, her voice rising and rolling over. Then her fingers began to tremble and Kyle raised his wand in a jerk and pointed it at her.

"Don't you dare try a spell, Mrs. Jäger?" He warned and the woman stared back at him. Overwhelmed with the development because she had been posed and everything had been laid bare. At least that's what Kyle believed. A cornered witch could do anything. Especially when now he and Dr. Archer meant danger for her and Anne.

Eyes of dark pine clung to the staff in Kyle's hands between countless folds of small gorges. "They are wizards." She stated. Hoarsely, as if she had aged years. That realization seemed to change something. Still, her hands trembled as she slowly raised her hand and wiped back one of the silver-grey strands. Then she raised both hands, approached the table, and pulled one of the chairs slightly to one side. Her eyes were fixed firmly on the book. As she reached out to touch it, however, Kyle beat her to it and snatched it from her.

He wouldn't give a witch her grimoire!

The woman's shoulders slumped a little and she wiped her damp palms on her nightdress. "It's true, it's mine." She admitted meekly. Something inside Kyle wanted to whoop. YES! YES damn it! Finally, they had the killer!

But this joy lasted only a short time.

"But I didn't kill anyone. I didn't know Elly had it." Her lips twisted in annoyance and her voice swung back up a little more energetically. She pointed at the book, the charred bits, and fallen-out pages. "No wizard would willingly treat their book like that." She said seriously, purposefully seeking the mage's gaze. "I AM a witch. I have some skills, like my mother before me. But the book disappeared the night the fire started. All I could save was Annabeth." Her voice took on more firmness. "The book and everything we had was lost in the flames." She insisted.

"The spell on the inn door." Reminded Kyle and the old woman snorted.

"I learned that spell as a child. It's one of the few I can do without my book. I don't harm anyone. I never have." Her hands balled into a fist and the old woman's chin lowered a little. Her lips pressed together so tightly that they formed a white line. Bloodless and full of bitterness. "If I had wanted to harm anyone, I would have done it differently." She shook her head slightly, "But I don't use my abilities for anything like that. All I wanted for Anna and me was peace. Revenge... doesn't bring the dead back to life. And if I had done something and something happened to me..." her voice broke off, "I could never leave Annabeth alone. We're all we have left."

Dr. Archer gave Kyle a sidelong glance. Still, he did not lower his gun.

"You can say what you want Mrs. Jäger. But you had the means and the motive. All the deaths were supernatural in nature. The effect of dark magic on the forest is clear and all the deaths have harmed you or Annabeth."

"For fuck's sake, I just told you I didn't do it! I didn't know any of the other victims apart from the vicar and the cursed innkeeper!" with indignant anger her face took on a striking red color. She did not look like a confessed murderer. "Heavens, until they brought it up, I didn't even know they were the victims of all those accidents, the ones my little Annab..." she broke off suddenly. Her words choked on the thought, which was so cruel, so horrible, that no one even wanted to think it. But it was already too late for that.

Kyle saw a shift in her expression, as if a thought peeled out of the fog, rocking her world from the bottom up.

"Stop trying to talk your way out of this. You are the only person in this village who has a suitable motive for all the 'accidents' ..." Dr. Archer realized even as he spoke.

In Kyle's mind, too, the gears suddenly snagged on the new stone that had fallen into the gearbox.

"It can't be..." it was a faint whisper, full of fear and disbelief.

It was the child.