The Wild Dead (The Bannerless Saga 2)

“We need more evidence,” Enid said. “A better lever to pry with. We need to talk to Hawk again.”

“And how’re you going to do that?”

That was a good question, and she didn’t know the answer. Well, maybe she did. She just wasn’t sure it was a good idea. “I’ll go talk to him.”

“You’ll go talk to him,” Teeg answered flatly.

“They’ve got to have a settlement or camp or something not too far away. He didn’t have a pack or travel supplies with him. I’ll follow his trail and go find him.”

“That’s crazy, Enid.”

“Or we wait. He came down to harass Last House once, maybe he’ll do it again. We wait for him.”

“You really want to wait around for that? I’d have thought you’d be ready to go home, no matter what.”

“Not until we ask a few more questions,” she said.

“The longer we stay here, the less happy folk’ll be about it,” Teeg said. “I haven’t been doing this that long, but I’ve learned that much about the job.”

This used to come so naturally with her last partner, the wise and unflappable Tomas. They would toss ideas back and forth, and she never felt that she was being silly, or that the ideas were outrageous. Teeg, though—he was judging her.

“Really,” Teeg said, offhand. “You have to wonder why anyone would live that far out of the way, and care so little about what goes on in the rest of place.”

That was the wrong answer. That was the quick answer, the suspicious answer.

“And yet,” Enid said, “they pull their weight, don’t they? How much of the driftwood that Kellan finds is worked into bowls and spoons and furniture for the rest of the settlement? How much mending does Neeve do for the lot? And they tend the pyres for everyone, don’t they?”

Teeg turned back to his journal, frowning.

She tested her next thought, the next obvious step on this case. “We should go upriver to find Hawk. Anyone else from their folk, if we can. Get their side of it.”

He set down the pencil and glared at her. “That guy won’t talk to us. And if one of them did it—” He was scowling as his words broke off.

“If one of them did it, then what?” Enid pressed him.

“Then it’s not our business, is it? It’s not like they’ll take our judgment.”

That was a philosophical question that could occupy a room full of investigators for hours. Strictly speaking, no. If an outsider killed one of their own, it was none of the investigators’ business. But Enid wanted the answer. She wanted to know, even if she couldn’t do anything about it once she did. If she believed Kellan didn’t do it, then she needed to know who did, and why.

“There’s a settlement of them somewhere upriver. We go there, ask a few questions. It’ll take some effort but we can do it.”

Teeg drew back. “Seriously?”

“What’s the matter?”

“It’s too far. It’s not our job.”

“Scared?” she said, grinning, aware she was prodding him and not caring.

“It’s not necessary,” he said.

As they talked,

Enid made plans. They’d need at least a couple of days’ worth of food. The weather wasn’t likely to turn bad, but they should bring an oiled tarp or something just in case. Staff and tranquilizers, of course.

She said, “If we leave first thing in the morning we can make good time, maybe even find Hawk and his folk before nightfall. Come back the next day.”

Teeg said, “Wouldn’t you rather go back home? Aren’t your people waiting for you? Your baby might be on the way right now.”