The Wild Dead (The Bannerless Saga 2)

“I’m trying to understand. It’s part of why I do this job. I want to understand.”

Neeve wiped her eyes, looked out at the sea. A few gulls dipped and turned. Their cries were high and rattling. “I never fit in there. I just didn’t. I can’t explain it, but if you were there you must have seen it. I kept . . . trying to change things. Make them better. Fix things. But they wouldn’t change. I’d suggest a new way of cooking, or maybe try to plant some vegetables. Rico would just laugh. He loved Ella, he was a father to her. But I didn’t fit in.”

“And you fit in so well here.”

“I know who I am here. I’m the woman who cut out her implant. And now I’m the woman who had a bannerless child.”

It was a waste, Enid thought. A waste of a life. Two lives, counting Ella. It was all so . . . sad. She didn’t think she understood it any better. But it was an answer.

“Thanks. That’s it, I guess. You keep well.” She turned to leave.

“You’re not going to do anything to me? Exile me, disband the household—”

“Ban you from earning banners?” Enid said. “No. I’m not going to do anything you haven’t already done to yourself. Good night, Neeve.”

The folk of Last House stood on the path, watching Enid go. She glanced back once, then never again.

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Dusk had fallen. They couldn’t set out for home until the morning. Enid wanted to scream, but there was nothing to be done. She was flat-out finished for today—only that afternoon she had collapsed on the marsh from heat exhaustion. She ought to be a little gentler with herself.

Least she and Teeg could have done was bring a car with them. But no, this was just supposed to be a simple case, no more than a day or two. But now they had to spend one more night in Bonavista’s work house. They kept Juni with them, taking turns watching her. When it was Teeg’s turn, Enid sought out Jess.

She had to resist the urge to apologize. “I’ll have supplies sent to make up for what we used. I really wasn’t expecting we’d be here this long.”

He was putting on a brave face. But his smile wavered and his eyes were wet. “She did it to hurt Neeve, you know. Wasn’t about the girl at all. I—I’m sure she didn’t really mean to hurt anyone. Except Neeve, I guess.”

Enid didn’t know what to say. “Well. She’s ended up hurting a lot of folk. Taking her away is the best punishment I can think of. No need to break up the whole house.”

He nodded quickly, head bowed. Tom, their son, was nowhere to be found. He just hid, and that was all right.

They didn’t get a nice cooked meal that night, and Enid wasn’t going to ask for one. She spent the evening on the front steps of the work house, available if anyone wanted to talk. Visible, standing up for her judgment if anyone wanted to argue.

Nobody did.

After dark, bugs swarmed the porch light, and Enid hugged a sheet over her shoulders. The whole Estuary seemed asleep. But Enid wouldn’t feel peace until she was far, far away. She kept double-checking shadows, sure Hawk was going to jump out of one, intent on revenge. She kept seeing movement in the edges of her vision; she felt unsettled.

Teeg came out after a while. Stood by the door, looking out in the same direction she did, expression locked in a frown.

“She’s asleep, I think,” he said finally. “Wore herself out.”

Enid didn’t have a lot of sympathy for the woman. Part of her still wondered if they shouldn’t have let her keep walking out into the waves. Just let her disappear.

“The report on this one’s going to be a trick,” he said, the conversational tone forced. Trying to talk like nothing was wrong.

“I’ll write it all up, you don’t have to worry about it.”

“But I’ll have to sign off on it too—”

“You weren’t even there.” She hadn’t meant to spit out the words so sharply.

He said, “I was wrong. That’s what you want me to say, yeah?”

“I don’t want you to say anything you don’t want to. Doesn’t much matter, does it?” She wanted a drink. A good cider from the orchards back home. Apples didn’t grow in this region.

“You did it. You solved it. I knew you would, after the Pasadan case.”

She was going to become the expert on murder, wasn’t she? The specialist. The one committees called on when a body turned up. Be nice for them, having someone else to shove the problem onto.