Page 44 of The Seeker
Meera looked skeptical.
“If we can convince Roch it will help Sabine, he’ll help us find the Wolf. If he’s Acadian, his people lived in the bayous for hundreds of years. He would know the stories. Know the storytellers.”
“Probably. And?”
“Stories could be the key. Folktales. Legends.” Rhys frowned. “Who lives in the swamp now?”
“Not many people. It’s huge. The basin is over three thousand square miles. A lot of that space is uninhabitable to modern people.”
He shrugged. “Good. That narrows down the pool of people who might have had contact with her. Not a bad thing.”
“I’m not sure what you’re getting at. I’ve interviewed many humans. Hunters. Guides. Residents. As many storytellers as I can find. As far as I can tell, no one has seen the Wolf or anything like the “fox woman” that Sabine describes. Did you see the drawings in my office? The Uwachi Toma had extensive tattooing, both scribes and singers. If a human or Irin saw the Wolf, she would be noticeable.”
“I’m not talking about the Wolf.” He shook his head. “No, she wouldn’t be seen unless she wanted to be seen. I’m talking about Sabine. Stories about a lost woman. Stories about Sabine.”
Meera frowned. “She was lost over two hundred years ago.”
“I know.”
“And humans don’t live that long.”
“But stories do,” Rhys said. “I need to see her and talk with her, and then I need to do some research of my own in this swamp. It’s very possible you were asking the wrong questions.” He curled his lip. “There are going to be mosquitos the size of house cats, aren’t there?”
“In the bayou? Probably.” Meera looked skeptical. “You think I was asking the wrong questions?”
Rhys cocked his head. “How many people say no to you?”
Her dimple almost winked at him. “Not many.”
“And no Irin, correct? Anyone who knows you gives you exactly what you want.”
Meera frowned. “You make it sound like I’m a spoiled brat, and that’s not—”
“No, you’re not spoiled. You’re too self-aware for that. But you’ve mostly dealt with Irin people in your life, people who were taught to deny you nothing.”
“And?”
“You asked questions and humans gave you answers, correct?”
“Yes.”
Rhys smiled. “Did you ever think they might have been lying to you?”
“Why would they lie? I was asking very mundane questions. I recorded notes. You’re welcome to listen to them. They would have no reason to lie.”
“Except that you’re an outsider,” Rhys said. “They don’t know you. You talk differently. You look different. Maybe they’re racist. Maybe they’re bored. Maybe they simply don’t want to give you what you want because they’re contrary.”
“So humans would lie to someone asking for information for… no reason at all?” She looked utterly confused. “That makes no sense.”
“People often don’t make sense. Human or Irin. They don’t fit into formulas. They can be equally wonderful and awful, sometimes in the same day. I’ll ask different questions, and I won’t believe their words. I’ll believe the look in their eyes and listen for what they’re not saying.”
She still looked uncertain.
“Think of it this way,” Rhys said. “You’ve spent your life studying the past, but a very specific past. I’ve spent my life learning myriad ways to tease the past into the present because I don’t have your magical ability or resources.” He held up a hand when she started to speak. “You’ve done an extraordinary job with what you have. And I have no doubt you’ve been able to help Sabine more than any other singer, save perhaps the one who found her and saved her life.”
“But?”
“But I’m here and I’m happy to help. You’ve seen all my research, most of which is only a prelude to what you’ve done. But I do have skills and resources. I’ve found people even angels were trying to hide. Let me find Atawakabiche.”
