Page 75 of Bannerless (The Bannerless Saga 1)

“Then what did you want to talk to me about?”

She inhaled, considered the words she wanted to say yet again—she’d come up with several different versions of this speech—and finally said, “How long has Ariana been thinking about how to summon investigators to go after Philos?”

His whole body was so rigid he barely flinched. He schooled himself to calmness. “Well, you’ve been busy.”

“And to think, everyone thought I was just going to go away.”

“What do you think happened here, Enid? What sort of scenario have you come up with?” He’d recovered quickly; his voice was light again, like he was telling one of his stories. An entertainment, light and frivolous. As if none of this mattered.

“Ariana didn’t feel she could confront Philos directly. So when an opportunity to call for an investigation presented itself—she took it. I want to know if she saw an opportunity, or if she’d been planning this. If she’d created an opportunity.”

“And why do you think I know the answer to that? You know I’m almost a stranger here myself.” He spread his hands, a gesture of innocence. A simple man, a humble musician, entirely blameless. If he could keep asking questions, he would never have to answer one himself, and he’d be so friendly about it, you might not ever notice.

“You’re right, Dak. People change. And I no longer have the patience for your charm.”

His smile froze. She let the pause drag, and drag, until he finally chuckled. “At least you think I’m charming.”

She almost—almost—chuckled with him. “I need an answer, Dak. Forget I’m an investigator. I’m just a person trying to figure out what really happened, so I can do what’s best for the whole town. Help me.”

“You never could let go of a mystery,” he said.

“Ah. You do know me.”

He looked away, maybe even blushed. “Yeah. A little.”

“How long was Ariana planning to lure investigators to Pasadan?”

He bowed his head. “As long as I’ve known her. We . . . we talked about it. She confided in me, I suppose.”

“And you agreed to help her?”

His smile twisted. “The price for joining her household. She didn’t want to be the one to confront Philos, to submit a complaint against him. She worried about it affecting her own standing in town. Worried Philos might take some kind of revenge. But if she could get someone else to do it . . .”

“Someone who was already on the outs with everyone. Sero.”

“And she couldn’t be seen talking with him, so I did it. If you could call it talking. Man barely said a word, seemed to resent every moment I spent with him. Never met anyone like him. I think he only tolerated Miran because he didn’t want to scare her. Sweetest person any of us know. He refused to help Ariana, of course. She even offered him a place at Newhome. We could have all been one . . . big . . . happy . . . household.” He sounded bitter. Like the gray in his hair, the tone didn’t suit him.

He might have thought it was good fun, conspiring to manipulate investigators, to point them like a weapon. And then it had all gone so terribly wrong.

She said, “That was you, who’d run from the shed. Who got the blood on the wall.”

“I didn’t kill him, Enid. He was like that when I found him . . . you have to believe me.” He leaned forward, balanced on the edge of his chair, nearly falling out of it.

“I know, Dak,” she said softly. He slumped, back curling over his lap. The breath went out of him.

“I—I went to talk to him one more time. Ariana thought if we just pushed him enough . . . but no, she never talked to him, she didn’t know how he was. How . . . willful. But I wen

t, to make her happy. He wasn’t in the house, which meant he was working in the shed. The doors were closed. Weird, because he never closed the doors when he was working. Left them wide open, for air. I knocked. No answer. So I looked in . . . and there he was.” He gave a weak, sad laugh. Wiped his eyes, which were shining. “I went in to check, to see. Touched the pulse at his neck, but he was already cold, you know? Must have got blood on me then. Didn’t even notice. I closed the door behind me, and . . . I ran. Just ran. Wanted to get away from there, didn’t want to be anywhere near there in case someone thought it was me. I didn’t want to have to answer any questions.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me you were the one to find Sero’s body? You could have told me what you saw.”

He spoke to his hands, folded in his lap. “I didn’t trust you. Not in that uniform.” The statement sounded like an accusation. She should have expected him to say something like that, but it still came as a blow. He’d trusted her once. He knew her. Didn’t he? Maybe not.

“What did you do next?” she asked.

He leaned back, now slipping into his usual easy manner. The worst was over; he could relax. “I went to Ariana and asked her what to do. And she . . . she said we could use this. Said to keep quiet. I’m sorry, Enid. I should have told you everything, I’m sorry—”

She held up a hand. Spoke as gently as she knew how. “Do you have any idea who might have been inside that shed when Sero died?”

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