Finn worked the village the way he worked a floor, one problem at a time.
He went through the lived-in part with the ranger and the water mage, and he did not ask about the Saintess at first, because the moment her name came up the answers turned into the same smooth lines. He asked smaller things instead. Whose house was whose. Who used to work which field. Who had sat in which empty chair.
The houses told their own story before anyone spoke. A table set for two, with food on both plates, while one woman ate alone and the second plate went cold. A pair of work boots by a door, too big for anyone still living there, dust settling on them. A shaving blade on a shelf, dry and untouched for days. One woman with a wedding ring tied to a cord around her wrist instead of worn on her hand.
