The Wild Dead (The Bannerless Saga 2)

“Part of the job,” she said, shrugging.

“You know that no one would fault you if you let this one be, if you handed it off to someone else. Finding out who did this to that girl . . . it’s impossible, isn’t it?”

“I have to try,” Enid said simply. “Teeg and I will give it a couple more days, then I’ll get back to my household. It’ll be fine.” She kept telling herself that. Kept telling herself that Olive, Sam, and Berol would understand if she wasn’t there. They would. “If you don’t mind talking about Bridge House just a little more—you decided it was easier to start over, rather than keep on with the old household?”

“I imagine it seems silly now. But it seemed important at the time. To move past it all, to change the name . . . to just change.”

Enid suspected that the Estuary’s refusal to put together its own committee might have had something to do with it. Medics came through a bit more often, but they didn’t have authority to award banners. Estuary folk had to appeal up to regional for banners, and regional sent someone around these parts only once or twice a year, to check on quotas and update records. Not much of a chance to ask for banners, to appeal decisions. Regional would delegate a lot of that work to a local committee—if there was one. Easy to overlook when there wasn’t.

The back door opened, and Jess stomped in, a look of panic tightening his features. “What’s this? What’s wrong?” He was breathing hard, like he’d run from somewhere.

Enid said calmly, “You mean besides obvious recent events?”

“Jess, what is it?” Juni asked.

“Tom said one of the investigators had taken you inside, was questioning you.” He glared at Enid. “You don’t think she had anything to do with it, do you? She can’t have anything to do with it.”

“We were just talking,” Enid said.

“It’s nothing,” Juni added. “Kellan was falling apart out on the marsh, and I was just helping. Really, she’s talking to everyone. Aren’t you?”

Enid nodded. “Yes, it was just a few questions.”

A knock at the front door made them turn, and Teeg’s voice called, “Enid! Mart’s on the way, might want to get out here.”

Out front, two people were trudging over the bridge, toward Bonavista. Enid shaded her eyes: the skinny one was Tom. The other was larger, his steps deliberate—Mart.

Teeg was still keeping watch at the front steps. Kellan sat hunched over his mug of water, but he seemed calmer. The pair might not have said a word to each other while Enid was inside talking with Juni.

“You ready to go back home, Kellan?” Enid asked.

He said, “I’m sorry, Enid. I didn’t mean to cause trouble. I really didn’t. We’re not in trouble, are we?”

“Not at all,” she said. “Just . . . if you think of anything else, anything that might help us find out what happened to Ella—you’ll let me know, yeah?”

He nodded sullenly. As much as Enid hoped he would think of something, remember some critical detail after he’d rested and the fear and adrenaline had drained from his system, she didn’t think he would. Likely he wanted to forget all this.

Enid waved as Mart approached the house, and he raised a hand back. Tom trotted ahead.

“Thanks again, Tom,” Enid said. “Ought to put you on regular messenger duty.”

The kid grinned. “I’m earning all kinds of favors!”

“Tom, don’t be obnoxious,” Juni said, but she was smiling, and her son laughed. His duty discharged, he disappeared around the corner of the house.

“What’ve you gone and done, Kellan?” Mart asked tiredly, stepping forward to put a hand on Kellan’s shoulder.

Kellan’s face sunk in a frown. “I got scared. I’m sorry.”

“He was looking for something in the mud. A knife Ella might have had with her,” Enid added. “You know what he was talking about?”

“Everybody has knives with them,” Mart said.

Yeah, that was the problem. Teeg gave Enid a questioning look, and she moved her head in the briefest of shakes. She’d have to explain it later.

“You need to keep better care of your people, Mart,” Jess said. He and Juni were looking on from the cottage doorway. He might have meant to sound good-natured, but his glare wasn’t, and Mart bristled.

“Kellan hasn’t done anything wrong,” Mart said. “Nothing’s got hurt.”