Bannerless (The Bannerless Saga 1)

“I suppose, on the one hand, this just got interesting,” Enid said.

“I think I could have done without interesting this time.” Tomas leaned in close, studying the shape of the mark, the shadow of whoever had left it.

Enid had read about investigations from before the Fall, which appeared to be highly organized and detail-oriented. There was a science to it—forensics—that had complex tools and procedures. There’d been machines to show the insides of a body, which would have shown exactly what had happened to Sero’s skull. They’d been able to record images in order to study the victim and the scene over and over again, as much as they needed to after flies and rot set in. Test blood for poison, or even identify individuals from a drop of blood or strand of hair. Back the

n, they’d have had the ability to peel the images of fingerprints from that smear of blood on the outside of the shed. She could compare those prints to everyone in town and find out exactly who had run away after Sero died. Who’d been there long enough to get fresh blood on their hands. Who might have seen Sero fall.

So much hadn’t been important during and after the Fall, so it hadn’t been saved. If one of the old investigators had been at Haven from the start, maybe the knowledge, the tools, the abilities would have been passed on, and not just the vague knowledge that those things had once existed. On the other hand, Haven had desperately needed the doctors and biologists who had founded the place. They had saved vaccines and been able to reconstruct antiseptics and basic antibiotics. Without them, nothing at all might have survived.

The whole idea of forensics seemed a bit magical to Enid, and she wasn’t sure the world really missed it. Wasn’t sure they needed it—until they did. Maybe she could try to bring some of that knowledge back. Someday.

In the meantime, this suspicious death had turned into a real investigation.

A rangy calico sidled up around the outside of the shed, meowing. Tomas reached down to offer to pet it, and the cat considered his outstretched hand a moment before stalking off, tail up, clinging to the wall. The beast might have belonged to Sero or might have been a general mouser, haunting barns around town.

“I wonder if it saw anything,” Enid joked, then spent a moment really truly wishing cats could talk. Just to tell her what had happened here.

“Could still be an accident,” Tomas said. Reminding her not to make snap judgments. “That mark could have been left by whoever found the body. Someone who didn’t want to be seen, didn’t want to talk about it, and went into hiding. The person they think found the body may not be the one who really found the body.”

“One way or another, that’s our prime witness. Whoever it is,” she said. She didn’t relish interviewing every single person in town to suss out a witness who didn’t want to talk, but if she had to, she would. “Well, let’s deliver the news.”

Face set, determined to get through the next few days as efficiently and fairly as possible, she went back to the committee, where they waited on the path toward the house. Probably looking on and wondering what had fascinated them so. Well, now Enid and Tomas would have to tell them. The next few moments would determine how the rest of the investigation went.

Lee had been pacing but stopped when the investigators approached; his hands reflexively opened and closed into fists. Ariana’s arms were crossed so tightly, she hunched in on herself, as if wanting to hide. Philos stood between them. He might have been talking, but the others didn’t seem inclined to listen. A committee at odds.

Enid went to Ariana first. “Ariana. Good instincts.”

Instead of looking pleased, Ariana’s mouth opened. “What? But . . . but . . .” Her disbelief stammered out. So, Ariana had hoped she was wrong. Or she hadn’t really believed the death was suspicious and had called an investigation anyway. She didn’t look like a woman who’d been validated, but one who’d had a roof nearly fall on her.

Continuing, Enid said, “I have reasonable suspicion of unusual circumstances surrounding Sero’s death, enough to warrant further investigation. I’ll proceed accordingly and hope to have everyone’s cooperation.”

She anticipated an outburst from Philos, but she’d expected it to focus on her. Instead, the man turned on Ariana. “Now look what you’ve done! This wouldn’t be happening if you’d just let it go—why couldn’t you just let it go! None of this matters?!” His hands clenched; Ariana bared her teeth, ready to shout back.

Tomas stepped between them, silent, his gaze leveled at Philos.

Everyone shut up.

“I’ll need to talk to whoever found Sero’s body, whoever last saw Sero alive, and to anyone who might have seen who came to and from the workshop that day.” Four days ago now. Too much time had passed already.

Lee, the quiet one, spoke, his voice shaking. “We don’t even know who all that could be . . . it could be anyone!”

“Then, I’ll talk to everyone,” she said. She wouldn’t even be able to pin down an approximate time of death. Just when the body was found, and then count back from there. “First—who found the body? Who reported that he was dead?”

Silence. They either didn’t know or didn’t want to say.

This was going to be a long couple of days.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////

While the others scowled at her, Ariana finally revealed that a man named Arbor had discovered the body. At least, he’d been the one to go get help. Enid went to speak with him and his household first, while Tomas started interviews to find out who’d seen him alive last.

Arbor was part of Baker’s Hill, a small household at the edge of town, closest to Sero’s homestead. The heads were a couple of older women; Arbor was the son of one of them. A few younger folk had joined them over the years. They had an orchard and a small herd of goats they used to make cheese.

They gathered at the kitchen table in their comfortable adobe house. Enid turned down an offer of lemonade and asked them questions. What had they seen? When was the last time they saw Sero alive? Who else had they seen at his homestead? Had they spotted anyone running away that morning?

No one else in the household knew anything. They shook their heads, ducked their gazes. They kept to themselves; Sero kept to himself; they rarely spoke; they didn’t keep track of him. He was a loner. Strange, they kept saying.

Convinced that most of the household really didn’t know anything, she let them all go except Arbor. They fled through the kitchen’s back door, and he stared after his mother and the rest as if they’d abandoned him to monsters. His hands rested on the tabletop, one clutching the other, and he wouldn’t meet Enid’s gaze.