"Right," Aneira says, not standing or anything but just kind of speaking from her seated position. "So there isn't a lot to say about this yet, but the hobs were going on about something strange about five minutes out from Stoneheart all day the last day of last month," she explains. "So a few of us went out to take a look and we found a body wrapped in a Hedgespun sheet. There was quite a lot of traffic through the area, probably because all the hobs came to check it out, so we weren't really able to find individual tracks that would have been helpful. But we were able to identify the body as Beth, a Spring Courtier. She had something carved into her abdomen above the belly button. Thirty-five h, twelve m. Jonah is convinced this is how long it took her to die. There was evidence of torture, and Kyle did an autopsy on her, although I'm not... certain he found all there was to find as I'm not sure what kind of medical training he has. In any case, she died of blood loss from cuts on both wrists, and was certainly murdered, as her tendons were severed. The manner of her delivery seems indicative it was a warning to the Freehold."
"She was very, very beaten," Gisa agrees, turning her face to one side, looking not at anyone, but at the wall. "It was ugly." Her fingers click together as she plucks up a piece of her wire hair from her sweater, where it had fallen, and twists it idly between them. Her eye-flames go out, and her voice is quieter than its usual steady monotone. "I washed the body," she explains, likely for Grillo's benefit because, you know, Aneira was there.
Grillo lets out a long, dismayed breath. "Do we know much about Beth herself?" the cricket asks. "Who knew her best? What she was involved with, where she frequented? Some circumstances to give some...context to her life?" Along the talk of death, that's where his attention lands, that thought of life instead. "I'm not sure I ever met her, but given where she ended up...that does sound like a message, I would think."
"Not very much," Aneira informs Grillo at the question. "The Queen has been informed, but no one who calls himself her friend has turned up for the Harvestmen. Then again, it doesn't seem that everyone pays attention to the messages left for the Freehold, so it could just be that word hasn't permeated yet. From what I recall of her, she wasn't very prominent in the Freehold and left little impression, so I imagine if she knew anyone it would be other Spring Courtiers."
Her head shakes slowly -- Beth wasn't a known quantity to Gisa, clearly. "Kyle said that it is possible her friends killed her. We do not know. It could be anyone." Slowly, the flames in her eyepits come back up, as if a mechanized shade in front of them had been rolled slowly up into the tops of her eyes. "Did you see Nana's note?" Gisa queries. "She has a memory, she said, of the people who dumped the body. That does not mean that is who killed her. Logically, yes. But not much about this seems to be very logical."
"I would think finding some of that out might help give context. I saw Nana's note. I would hope it might bring out some of those who did know her. Dumping the body...well. You can find people or beings for that." That's surprisingly cold from the otherwise warm-mannered insect; he's speaking aloud thoughts he perhaps doesn't sympathize with fully.
"It seems rather likely whoever dumped her is at least related to who killed her. Even if not personally related, surely whomever dropped the body off did so as part of a deal," Aneira replies to Gisa, blinking her crystalline eyes. "What do you mean by 'she has a memory'? She witnessed it?"
A slow nod from Gisa in response to Grillo's positing -- all of it -- and she lets out a thoughtful sound. Or maybe it's a thoughtful sound. Maybe she's burping, though that seems unlikely. Do golem burps sound like 'a bunch of pebbles rolling down a hill?' Uh, anyway. "We could ask the hobs at the Freehold -- the ones who tend the fire. Maybe they saw her with people." She keeps twisting the wire in her fingers until it squeals from the stress, a copper coil tightly wound. "She ... did some thing. With the cloth that Beth was wrapped in, when she was dumped. She spoke with it, as Wizened do. I showed her the shroud, since I knew where it was, and she spoke with it. And it saw."
"Clever Nana," Grillo says, a little admiringly. "Quite the investigatory trick. That's something, at least. And you're not wrong, Aneira, that at the very least there has to be some connection. Most anyone who'd dump a body would at least be ready, as last point of contact, for questions that come their way. Hard to get someone to do it for no reason at all."
"Hmm. So what did she see? Anything that would help?" Aneira inquires at Gisa's words.
A shake of Gisa's head follows. "I do not know. I did not take the bottle. I did not take the memory." A slow creaking as she straightens herself up, followed by a series of pops as the golem stretches her arms up above her head. "I thought perhaps if I did, Grillo might be displeased. Or at least. It is better if he takes the memory." It is, after all, kind of what a cricket do.
Grillo raises an eyebrow, a flickering twitch of antenna along with it. "I see what you mean, but no, not displeased. I try not to have that kind of ego in the work I do. Still, crucial information does live in me. Safe, in its own way. I could make my appeals to Nana." There's a ghost of a smile. "I have my own Mamma back home, I have a tiny bit of experience in making nice with older ladies, especially for good ends.""
"So long as someone finds something," Aneira replies with a brief nod. "I dislike the thought of a killer on the loose and it's been quite some time since I had a proper hunt. The sooner this is put to bed, the better."
Setting the ad hoc spring made from her hair aside, Gisa shrugs, one of those slow, expressive things to which she is so often inclined. "Better you than me, for that, in any case." Her face turns back toward the others, finally, and she clears her throat, a rumbly, dry sound. "She is a kind bubbe, in her way. Bring a treat for her dog. I had hot dogs when we met." Another slow nod in response to Aneira. "Who will talk to the hobs? I can - but I am not the best, maybe."
"Note to self: doggie yummies." When the cricket makes a note to self, it sticks. "Do we have a Baron of the Lesser Ones? I'm still meeting people," Grillo confesses. "Or someone else with particular skill with the hobs and things of the Hedge?" Little hints that that's not quite him, either, perhaps.
"Whomever is good at such things," Aneira replies to Gisa. "I do not make it a habit to interview hobs, personally speaking, so I doubt I would be very helpful in the matter. If you would like to, by all means. Ashe most likely knows who might be best for the job. I would ask her."
Her hand comes up and scratches at her cheek, making a sound just this side of 'fingernails on a chalkboard.' Scree scree scree. "I will put up a note. There are so many people who came while I was absent, I do not know all of them." Gisa's shoulders rise, and drop. "Not my particular skill. We will find out." Stated as a certainty. "Billy Ray said he wants to go with you when you hunt. Or something like that." Chances are that Gisa couldn't repeat what Billy Ray said even if she tried, so she doesn't.
Grillo rises. "Of course. Is there anything else we can do, in the interim?" C.J. asks. "Other avenues?" It's the most gentle hint that he's about to take his leave, that little arranging process as he sets to go.
Aneira shakes her head. "Whatever you think of," she says. "It doesn't seem there's an organized investigation, really, so..."
"You should organize it, Aneira," opines Gisa, as she, too, rises. "You are doing a good job so far. For someone you did not know. You are a neshema tova," she pronounces, adding after a moment, "A good soul. I will send whatever I find to you." She hefts her coat, her bag, and arranges herself to go. "Cricket, I will walk with you, perhaps?" Indeed, it's time to go.
Grillo gives a minute bow that extends his elbow to Gisa. "You will walk with me indeed, if you like to, Gisa. Always happy to share your company a little while longer. If you like. Aneira, if you do organize this investigation, please feel free to call on me. While I doubt you'd have me for the hunt, I think I can assist in finding the right direction." There's a hint of implicit encouragement from the other Dawn, a push of that changeable wind of Grillo's strong mantle, that suggests he might assume that Aneira might embrace taking charge.
Aneira rolls her icy shoulders in a mild shrug. "Let me know what you learn from Nana's memory, then?" she says. "When there's a hunt to be had, I'll let this-- Billy? person know."
When a gentleman offers an elbow, a lady accepts. Gisa does, too, for what that's worth. "Thank you," she agrees, and then bobs her head toward Aneira. "If I find someone to talk to the Hobs, then I will tell you what they learn. Or send them to you. And if no one speaks up, I will try." That should be pretty hilarious.
"Of course. Shared information gets us farther. Until then, if not before?" Grillo says, and he prepares to go.
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