“Burning is right,” said Bak. “A woman who does that sin when she’s married and a mother, she’s burning down her own house.”

“It’s a terrible thing and nobody does it anymore,” said Jobo hotly.

“Only ten years since it was done.”

“In Stinkville, not here,” said Jobo.

“Well, that’s why they burned her up in her own house in Stinkville, and not here.”

“Is Stinkville really the name of the place?” asked Rigg. Thinking, meanwhile, That’s your punishment for adultery? To burn down the house with the woman inside?

“Well they don’t call it that,” said Jobo. “And they have a choice name for us, too, you may be sure.”

“What do you call this hamlet?” asked Rigg.

“Not everything has a name,” said Bak.

“We call it home,” said Jobo. “And I hate talk about evil old customs like house burning.”

“It always made a kind of sense to me,” said Bak. “His wife sleeps with another man, the husband’s house is already destroyed and his wife is already dead to him. Burning down the house just makes it real to everybody.”

“They don’t burn down the house around adulterous men.”

Bak merely looked puzzled. “Why would they? He’s not going to get pregnant with another bird’s egg!”

“You hear how he quotes foolish old sayings!” said Jobo hotly. “Everybody thinks he’s so nice, but he’s got a cold temper, cold but deep and it never stops till he’s satisfied.”

She was afraid of him. He bore her tongue well enough, but if he thought he had suffered real injury, he’d seek justice. That’s what she feared, and that was what she was trying to impress on Rigg. Just in case he actually was a finder.

Rigg knew he couldn’t find the button or the consequences would be terrible. Or at least he couldn’t openly find it where it was.

“After lunch, can I lie down and let the finding happen?” asked Rigg.

“He needs to be all alone, except for me,” said Ram Odin.

Including you, you old weasel, thought Rigg. But he didn’t dare to contradict him—if they ever disputed each other’s story, it would cast doubt upon all.

So a half hour later, they were shut up together in a room with a nice bed, by local standards, and Rigg explained in a soft voice where the button was.

“Don’t want to see this house burn down,” said Ram Odin.

“Not going to,” said Rigg. “I’ll get the button and find it somewhere else. Excuse me for a minute.”

He took off his sandals—they were noisy on the wood floors—and jumped back in time to the middle of the night. Sure enough, there was Jobo asleep in the bed, but not Bak. He must be sleeping somewhere else in the house.