The Wild Dead (The Bannerless Saga 2)

“Did they get along? Did they ever argue?”

“You think he might have hurt her?” Mart asked.

“We’re still trying to figure that out,” Teeg said.

The head of Last House shrugged. “Yeah, they argued. He didn’t like being here, was always trying to get her to leave. She did all the trading; he just kept watch.”

“Stood guard?” Enid asked.

“Guard against what?” Mart asked, and Teeg looked at Kellan.

If Teeg was trying to scare the guy, it worked. Kellan dropped his poker, launching a burst of sparks. He had a screwed-up look on his face again, still trying not to cry. Maybe still upset by all that had happened out on the marsh. By their own accounts they hardly knew the dead woman, but grief was strange. Maybe this touched on something else for him. “Leave us alone! It’s not our fault, it’s not!”

Mart held out a calming hand. “Kellan, it’s all right. This isn’t about us. Really.” Then he raised an eyebrow at Enid. “Right?”

“I don’t have it! I looked for it, it wasn’t there!” Kellan insisted. And ran off, down the hill.

“Kellan!” Mart stood, stunned for a moment, glancing at the investigators, then at the fleeing Kellan. Then he dropped his knife and carving and ran after him.

“Well, what do you make of that?” Teeg said, seeming a little too smug.

Enid wasn’t sure it meant anything, except that Kellan had had more crash in on him than he was capable of dealing with over the past couple of days.

“Let’s go find him,” Enid said with a sigh, and she and Teeg gave chase. He was younger and faster, so Enid let him get ahead. She’d already chased after one person today.

The young investigator quickly outpaced Mart, but Kellan managed to keep ahead. He was stumbling, though, fighting against the slope of the hill. He’d taken off, paying no attention to the terrain. This side of the hill had no path, was all scrub and rocks. He kept looking back at the threat behind him. Inevitably, his footing slipped, and he went down, this time tumbling, flailing, unable to stop himself.

Mart gasped and called out, “Kellan!”

Teeg got to the fallen man first, grabbing his arm and hauling back like he thought Kellan might still try to get away. But Kellan was finished, sitting with knees pulled up, face pressed to his arms, sobbing. A cut across his temple was bleeding into his hairline.

“I’m sorry, it’s my fault. I know what it looks like, but I didn’t mean, I shouldn’t have—” He cut himself off there, choking on his own breath, hugging himself. He wouldn’t look up.

Enid stood back. She hardly knew what to do, how to soften this situation. Mart knelt by his friend, whispering something to soothe him, but Kellan kept repeating the vague apologies.

Teeg looked hard at Enid. “See there? A confession.”

“It’s not a confession, he hardly knows what he’s saying.” She knelt by Kellan, held his shoulders. Tried to be gentle, however much she wanted to squeeze an answer out of him. “Kellan. Something happened that you don’t want to talk about. I see that. But if we’re going to learn how Ella died, you need to tell us what you know.”

He shook his head, over and over.

Mart said, “Kellan, I know it’s hard, but the only way to make all this better is to talk.”

“I don’t . . . I can’t . . . it’s such a blur, it’s all a mess—”

Teeg said, “Kellan, did you use a knife on Ella and kill her?”

“I—I didn’t want her here, so it must be my fault . . .”

“So you did do it,” Teeg insisted, and Enid stood and took his arm.

“Stop it. You’re pushing him.”

“He did it, Enid. He’s all but said so.”

“Exactly. He hasn’t answered your questions, and it’s all tangled in his head. You’re not going to get a clear answer from him now.”

Mart stared at them, all anguish. “He couldn’t have done it! He just . . . he just isn’t like that!”