And yet… I went looking for her, even when I would have flinched to meet her.

She wasn't in the Council Hall — there was nothing in the building but the smell of varnish, since the big meeting table had been recently refinished. Steck must have left through the same side door I'd come in; and she must have left soon after the welcoming ceremony finished.

Where would she go in such a hurry?

The natural answer was she wanted to find me. her beloved child. But I had been standing in plain sight near Little Oak; if she wanted to shower me with maternal kisses, she knew where I was. Steck had bustled off in a different direction… and I asked myself why. What other business did she have in Tober Cove? Whom else could she want to see apart from me?

When the answer thumped into my mind, I wanted to smack myself in the forehead. Zephram. Her old lover. Of course she'd recognize him and want to talk with him. And like an idiot, I'd let him carry Waggett so Steck wouldn't take an interest in the boy. Even now the damned Neut might be chucking my son under the chin and talking to him like a proud grandma.

I stormed out of the Council Hall and ran toward Zephram's home. He'd lived there since his earliest days in the cove — Steck would know where to find him. She might even catch him before he got to the house. As I've said, Zephram's place stood apart from the rest of the village, with a good stand of birch and poplar between the property and its nearest neighbor. For some reason, it seemed more sinister if Steck caught up with my father and Waggett on the path through those trees. I could imagine her standing athwart the trail like a toll collector… maybe even with her knife drawn.

Twenty years had passed since Steck and Zephram had been together — twenty hard years for Steck, and who knows what crazy resentments she might have developed? Maybe she had talked herself into believing everything was Zephram's fault; after all, he was the one who told her about that other Neut who lived "happily" in the South. Had Steck come to Tober Cover for revenge against my father? And what would she do to the boy Zephram was carrying?

I ran faster.

As I entered the woods between the town and Zephram's home, I slowed to a quiet trot. If Steck really was up to no good, it might be better to catch her by surprise.

The trail wound as all trails wind on Tober land, shifting in response to the ledges of limestone that slab up out of the earth. The ledges seldom rose higher than my waist, but combined with the shimmering leaves that drooped down from the trees, there were places I could scarcely see a dozen paces in front of me.

That's why I didn't notice the body until I was almost upon it.

It lay near the halfway point of the woods, curled into a fetal position on the path. The back was toward me; I could tell it was a man but not who it was. Not Zephram, at least — my father didn't have any sleeveless shirts, and this man, whoever he was, had muscular arms bare to the shoulder.

Before I approached the body I froze and listened. The breeze rustling a forest full of leaves hissed up enough background noise to cover any quiet movements of threat nearby. I couldn't see anyone in the neighborhood, and there wasn't anywhere within ten paces that someone could hide… unless the killer was lying behind one of the low rock ledges, waiting for the moment I turned my back…

Don't do this to yourself, I thought. After thirty more seconds with no sign of trouble lurking, I slipped warily toward the unmoving form.

It was Bonnakkut: our First Warrior. A slash across his throat dribbled blood onto the dirt. Red blobs low down on his shirt showed he had taken some gut jabs too, but the throat gash had all the finality a man required. I didn't need to take his pulse or check for breathing.

The ground was scuffed, but it didn't look like there'd been a major fight. Bonnakkut's beloved steel ax still gleamed sharp and unused, secure in the leather housing that Bonnakkut had made himself — a sort of hip holster which allowed him to whip out the ax in a split-second. Either he hadn't had time to defend himself…

…or he'd decided to pass up the ax in favor of shooting his attackers with his brand-new Beretta.

I didn't see the gun anywhere. Not in his hands. Not on the ground nearby.

"This is not good," I whispered. Much as I hated Bonnakkut having a firearm, he wasn't the worst type of owner: the worst was someone who'd kill Bonnakkut to get the gun.

Suddenly, I had a twitch in the small of my back — the queasy feeling of someone dangerous right behind me. I spun around, but there was no one… just shimmering leaves, stolid rock, and a dawdle of insects flicking through the pockets of sunshine that penetrated the tree cover.

Whichever way I turned, I felt there was someone just a hair behind me.

"Help!" I shouted. "Hey! Anyone hear me? Help!"

Ten seconds later, Cappie came running from the direction of Zephram's house. She still carried my spear, and she held it ready for trouble.

What was she doing here? I thought she'd gone home with her family.

"Fullin," she said, "why are you making all that… oh." She stopped. She had seen Bonnakkut.

"I didn't do it," I told her.

Cappie didn't answer. Her gaze was on the corpse.

"He was like this when I found him."

"Don't be so defensive," she said, but there was no snap in her voice. She looked quickly left and right; I don't know what she expected to see. Oddly enough, the twitch in my back had disappeared the moment Cappie showed up. We were alone now — I could feel it.

"His gun's missing," I told her.

"Why doesn't that surprise me?"

She squatted in front of the body, an unladylike pose made decent only because she was wearing pants. Her hand reached out toward Bonnakkut's slashed throat, but I grabbed her wrist in time. "Don't be crazy," I said.

"I'm not a woman yet," she answered.

"Bonnakkut might not care." Everyone knew that a woman should never touch a man's corpse, just as a man shouldn't touch a woman's. If Bonnakkut's spirit hadn't left his body yet, it would be lonely and maddened; one touch from Cappie and he would suck her soul into his corpse to be his death-wife. Some Elders claimed that was impossible — before Commitment, we couldn't marry, either in life or in death. But I didn't trust Bonnakkut dead or alive, and I didn't let go of Cappie's hand until she shrugged and eased back from the body.

"We should tell someone," she said.

Her eyes met mine. I don't know what she was looking for, but her face had a focused seriousness that I found beautiful in its intensity. After a few seconds, I asked, "Do you want to stay with the body or shall I?"

She actually smiled faintly. "Thanks. Trusting me for once." She drew a breath. "I'd better be the one to stay. I've got the spear."

As I ran back to the center of town, my brain rattled with questions. Who killed Bonnakkut? That was my top concern. And my top suspect was Steck. Someone callous enough to Commit Neut was callous enough to commit murder… but I couldn't see a motive. Bonnakkut was only five years old when Steck left Tober Cove; she shouldn't have any longstanding hatred for him. Anyone else might have killed Bonnakkut to steal his gun, but Steck had no reason to do that. Working for a Spark Lord, she could have any weapon she wanted, just for the asking.

It was possible there might be a criminal hiding nearby; as I've said, fugitives occasionally came up-peninsula to hide from the Feliss Watch. It was also possible one of the muscle-brains in the Warriors Society had decided to take the Beretta for himself. It was even possible someone else in town hated Bonnakkut enough to do the deed… but I had trouble believing it.