The morning dawned with its grey hue, and Kylara rapped on the front door of the most important man in Kookaburra Creek.
To her surprise, the door swung open almost immediately. Pemulabee must have already been up. Elders always woke up early. Her grandmother used to say old bones had their advantages.
“Kylara?” Pemulabee said after a moment. His voice was a mixture of surprise and concern. He hesitated a second, then stepped aside. “Come inside.”
“I– I can’t.”
Pemulabee blinked. His brows furrowed in confusion. “Why not? Is something wrong?”
“Yeah.” Weird. Her voice sounded loud. She had been expecting a whisper.
“Tell me.”
Why was this so much harder than ordering Dhaligir around?
Kylara drew a deep breath and her fingers absentmindedly traced the frayed fabric on her sleeve. It felt odd to do the motion without a glove on.
“It’s Ulinda,” she said. “She’s dead. Murdered.”
It took a second for the words to register.
“Murdered?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you sure?” The elder’s relaxed demeanour shifted instantly. He stepped out of the doorway and closed it behind him.
Kylara nodded. “I saw her,” she said. “Or some of her.”
“Gods,” Pemulabee said in a harsh whisper. “And you’re certain it was her? The fruit picker’s daughter?”
Kylara shook her head blankly. She had no idea what Ulinad’s background was. They had only met a few times. “She coaches pushball. Coached pushball.” Kylara cringed. “Sorry. I saw it, Pemulabee. I saw–”
“And the murderer?”
“I didn’t see them.” Kylara’s eyes remained fixed on the floor. “But I know where they are. I’m tracking them.” Kylara turned around, trying to match the coordinates in her head with a direction. “They’re about, er, four and a half kilometres that way,” she pointed to a place between the roofs of the nearest houses.
“Close to the body?”
“No.”
The word 'body' hung in the air, and Kylara found herself swallowing hard. Close to the body. It seemed wrong to call Ulinda a body. But what else was she? What could she be called?
Everyone knew that speaking the names of the dead woke their spirits. It wasn’t done. So body seemed as appropriate a term as any. But something about it seemed wrong.
She moved her finger a few degrees to the left, her pointer finger tracing an imaginary line in the air to Skull Rock, its ominous silhouette just peaking up above the cluster of wooden houses.
“I found Ulinda there,” Kylara said, resolving to only use her name this one last time. What was the harm? Ulinda’s ghost couldn’t be resting yet. Not after what had been done to her. Kylara wasn’t convinced she would ever truly rest.
Pemulabee followed her gaze. “Let’s walk,” he said. “Walk with me and–” he straightened up. “No,” he said. “Tell me exactly where you found the body, and I’ll go myself. You get Imla and Wawiriya. We’ll need their expertise.”
“They’re already coming,” Kylara said. “Dhaligir is getting them.”
“Dhaligir,” Pemulabee muttered. Oddly, he didn’t look surprised at the name. “Yes, I suppose that makes sense…”
I just hope he’s quick. And listens.
She regretted that she hadn’t given Dhaligir more hints about what was happening. She couldn’t tell him exactly–town rules and all–she needed to inform the head of the council first if he was available–but she didn’t think Dhaligir had picked up on anything. Hopefully, he had at least gotten the urgency part.
“I couldn’t tell Dhaligir she’d been dying,” Kylara stated, locking her gaze on Pemulabee, “because of your rules.”
“Hm,” Pemulabee said thoughtfully. Then, dismissing her–added, “I wouldn’t worry about it too much.”
He looked at her for a second, and Kylara realised her choice of words. She had said dying and not dead. And then she had not corrected herself. That meant something.
“Let’s walk. Tell me everything, every detail you remember. We can get more people on the way.”
“Who?” she asked.
“Expertise.”
Very specific, Kylara thought.
She could do coordinates fine–those were completely reliant on her warder’s sight–but general directions, such as knowing landmarks or which houses were on the way, those types of directions were difficult for her. She just hoped it wasn’t Malyun.
“Are you still tracking the murderer?”
“Yes,” Kylara said.
“Tell me if anything changes. Can you talk and keep an eye on their location at the same time?”
“I shouldn’t have much trouble.” At their current location, the Desert was on either side of the murderer and the border with Saltsbury was still a distance away. At this point, Kylara just needed to make sure they didn’t get close to the town, and she had already set up the trigger wards for that.
With a nod of approval, Pemulabee motioned for her to continue. “Start from the beginning," he urged. "Every detail matters."
And so Kylara began, recounting everything she remembered from that night, starting with being woken up by the annoying bird and ending with her deciding to wake Pemulabee. She shared every vivid detail, even ones she wasn’t certain about, like the sound of the twig snapping, which might have been the killer fleeing the scene. The only details she left out were the personal ones, like her near breakdown in Ulinda’s final moments or her thoughts in the eerie stillness that had followed her death.
Pemulabee listened intently, only occasionally interrupting to ask a question or clarification.
Until he suddenly stopped. “Wait.”
“What?”
“Shh.” Pemulabee put his hand up and frowned, before abruptly pivoting and taking a swing.
Janeyca fell over. “What the hell?” she screamed.
Kylara turned around. “Janes?”
“How long have you been listening?” Pemulabee yelled.
“What? Why?”
“The grass must have muffled her footsteps,” Kylara thought out loud. Because there was no other way Janeyca could sneak up on them that easily, right? They weren't that oblivious.
“How long?” Pemulabee asked again.
“A few seconds maybe? I didn’t hear anything. Why? What’s wrong?” Janeyca looked between them. Her gaze settled on Pemulabee.
“Why are you up?”
“I–”
“She’s usually up at odd hours,” Kylara said. “I don’t know why.”
“It’s because I don’t like the heat,” Janeyca said, defensive. “It’s not a big deal.”
“What do you want?”
Janeyca stood up and made a bit of a show of brushing the dust off her skirt. Kylara stared at her gall. Janeyca was probably one of the few people in Kookaburra Creek who would dare do something that boldly arrogant in front of Pemulabee. And she got away with it too. Janeyca and Joontah were Wawiriya’s grandchildren. They were practically small-town royalty. Or at least what Kylara pictured royalty to be. A bit privileged, a bit sneered at by others their age. It was a lot like Kylara’s own situation.
“I just came to tell you that Dhaligir was knocking on our door,” Janeyca said. “I know he’s under house arrest, so I thought I should let you know.”
“He’s allowed to leave,” Pemulabee said. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I sent him to get Wawiriya,” Kylara added. “Is she coming?”
“Oh,” Janeyca said, frowning. “Should she? My brother told him to go away.”
“If you could get her Janes,” Pemulabee sighed. “That would be excellent.”
Janeyca did not move. She looked between Pemulabee and Kylara again. “Is everything alright?” she asked. “What do you need my grandmother for?”
“What do we need her for?” Pemulabee made a small sound as he pressed his thumb against his temple. “Fine," he said, sounding resigned. "I guess you’ll find out soon enough anyway. There’s been a murder. Muljohn’s daughter.”
“What do you mean, a murder?”
“You know what I mean. We need the rest of the council members. If you could get your grandmother and tell her to meet us at–” Pemulabee glanced at Kylara.
“Skull Rock,” she finished for him.
“Skull Rock,” he continued. “We need Wawiriya there. And tell her to bring her wits with her. We haven’t had a murder in this town for ten years. This isn’t going to be fun.”
“Yes,” Janeyca said.
Kylara did a double take.
“I’m sorry?” Pemulabee said. “Yes?”
Kylara frowned as she studied Janeyca's face. Pemulabee hadn’t asked a yes or no question, had he?
“Janes?” she said.
Janeyca nodded.
“Tell Wawiriya: Skull Rock,” Pemulabee said. “Okay?”
Janeyca said nothing.
Kylara shot her a look.
“I need you to tell Wawiriya to come to Skull Rock,” the council elder repeated, sterner.
Janeyca looked at Pemulabee, then looked at Kylara. Then her gaze settled slightly between them, as though she was focused on something else in the distance.
What the fuck is she doing? Kylara thought. Janeyca had been rude to her lately, but this was unacceptable. Someone had just died. Why wasn’t she paying attention?
Kylara tilted her head to the left and mouthed as such, trying to get the girl's attention.
Janeyca nodded again, then made a face. “He knows,” she muttered. “You told him?”
“What?” Kylara asked. “What are you talking about?”
Pemulabee didn’t seem to care. “Are you listening?” He snapped his fingers. “Get Wawiriya. Make sure she understands the urgency. Time is of the essence.”
At the question, Janeyca seemed to snap out of it. “Sorry,” she said. “Sorry. It’s just a lot to hear. A murder. Here. And I’ve been up all night, I’m tired. I’ll grab Wawiriya and, er–”
“The other council members,” Pemulabee said dryly.
“Yes. Them. I’ll get them too,” Janeyca pointed behind her then turned around, still looking somewhat dazed.
Pemulabee turned to her the second Janeyca got out of hearing distance.
“Is there something wrong with her?” he asked.
Kylara shrugged. “Probably.”
“I’m going to have to have a word with her grandmother about her behaviour.”
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
“She’s not usually like that,” Kylara said. “She’s usually just a bit rude. We should–”
“I hope she’s not usually like that. That was inappropriate and disrespectful. She is lucky that there are more important concerns I have to deal with at the moment.”
“Yeah well, we really should…” Kylara trailed off as she watched Janeyca turn down an alleyway. “What?" she inadvertently said. "I’m not good with directions but…”
“She’s not going the right way,” Pemulabee finished.
“Should I–”
“No. We’ll have to do without Wawiriya for now.”
Kylara led Pemulabee through the meandering path that wound its way around the oldest houses in Kookaburra Creek and into the woods. The crunch of her footsteps mingled with the distant murmur of the creek. It made Kylara wince every time she stepped down. It didn’t seem like the time or place for noise.
She tried to step carefully, constantly aware that Pemulabee’s footsteps made no sound. She watched him closely. Pemulabee’s eyes scanned their surroundings with an unusual intensity. He seemed to sense that something was wrong. Elder magic, she supposed. Pemulabee knew the country better than anyone.
As they approached a cluster of trees next to Skull Rock, Kylara broke the silence. “It's just beyond this bend. I found her under the rocks.”
The scene that greeted them was much worse in the light. A tangle of branches and undergrowth partially concealed Ulinda’s lower body, but her face–and her jaw–oh gods, her jaw–were in full view. Kylara swallowed, then fixed her gaze on her feet. Her still bare feet. She hadn’t had time to put on proper shoes yet. Pemulabee didn’t have any family of his own or she would have asked to borrow something.
Pemulabee straightened, his gaze fixed on the body.
“You found her like this?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“And she was alive?”
“Yeah.”
“Gods,” Pemulabee muttered, just staring.
Kylara said nothing.
“No one in Kookaburra Creek could have done this,” the elder said after a moment. “Almost seventy years I’ve lived in and looked after this town. No one here is capable of this. No one.”
Kylara shifted her weight uncomfortably. She wasn’t nearly so certain. Ulinda seemed to have recognised her killer, even if she hadn’t said anything. Maybe Kylara had been reading too much into the expression in Ulinda’s eyes, but there had been something there. Some horrible familiarity.
“Give me your hand,” Pemulabee ordered. “I’m going to examine her.”
Kylara nodded. “Do you need anything?” she asked.
“Just silence.”
Kylara helped Pemulabee over the rocks and watched as the old man knelt over Ulinda’s body, gently touching her face.
She just lay there, doing nothing. Her body was draped in the same tattered clothes, except the blood was now dried and darker. Her face was the same too, missing the same pieces. Except now Kylara could see a bit of what she thought was the rest of her left jaw on the ground. She focused on Pemulabee to avoid looking at it.
Was there peace in her final moment? Her expression didn’t look like one of serenity, but it didn’t look like pain either. It just looked blank.
The only change was the hair covering most of her face. Kylara hadn’t left her like that. She was fairly sure Ulinda’s hair had been tied back. Had she been adjusting her hair in her last moments? Something about the thought made Kylara tear up. She bit her lip to stop from making a noise.
It had probably just been the wind.
She watched as Pemulabee’s fingers traced Ulinda’s cheek.
He was so calm. His touch looked so peaceful. The breeze picked up and Kylara shivered. Pemulabee’s movements had the kind of reverence to it that Kylara wished she had been able to give Ulinda in her final moments. She hadn’t given the woman a proper farewell. There had been nothing, just panic and promises.
Promises…
Kylara closed her eyes as she checked on her wards again. Nothing had changed. The killer was still in the middle of nowhere, heading vaguely in the direction of Saltsbury. They were on foot. Good. As long as they left in the next few hours or so, they would be easily able to catch them on birdback.
“…warder...”
“Hm?” Kylara blinked and looked back to Pemulabee. “What?”
His eyes were closed.
Oh, she realised.
Wara, not warder. It was Kadigal. Wara. It meant death.
His lips moved in a mumbled chant. It wasn’t one she had heard before. It was probably something only the elders knew, specific to the time of year or the place of death or the birth order of the deceased–it was always something like that. Warding required a lot of memorisation, but it was nothing compared to what some of the elders needed to know.
The breeze died down and she listened.
At Guwinj’s border,
By kith and kin who've passed away,
In the lands of memories
They find their place,
Under the big ghost-moth’s embrace
Go, go. What will you do?
Go, go. Where will we go?
Kylara wasn’t sure she wanted to listen. She pulled her jacket tighter around herself.
Today seemed especially cold. Usually this time of year–mid February–it was comfortable even in the middle of the night. But today even the ground felt chilly.
She looked back at the path they had walked down, wondering if either Dhaligir or Janeyca had woken the others yet. Despite the chill, the mist that had been hanging in the air was beginning to clear. The sun was fully over the horizon now. There was birdsong in the distance.
If Yalmay was here, she would make a big deal of it, Kylara thought. She would tell her all of their songs and meanings.
Kylara did not bother to list them. It wasn’t that she couldn’t–she probably knew enough about birds. And she probably knew enough religion to find all sorts of meanings and symbolisms in it too, if she cared to look. She just didn’t.
There was more noise in the distance, and Kylara strained to hear if they were footsteps. She desperately wanted Wawiriya here with her. Being alone with Ulinda’s body and Pemulabee’s ominous chanting was starting to mess with her head.
There were lots of sounds it could be. Mornings were always busy in Kookaburra Creek. Soon, the cart drivers would leave for Saltsbury. Fruit pickers would be up too. Fruit and berries were usually picked in the early morning before the birds got to them. Many things were easier in the morning. Sleepy fish were easily pulled out of the water. Even big animals, like kangaroos, were more easily captured. This was the time they came to the billabong to drink. People woke up with the world.
One of her trigger wards went off. It was one of the ones nearby–not the murderer–she assumed they were still a distance away–but someone approaching from the town. “Someone’s coming,” she called to Pemulabee.
“Good,” he said. “Either Imla or Wawiriya, presumably. I should warn them before they see–” he gestured hopelessly “…this.” He straightened and stood up, making his way over the rocks again.
Personally, Kylara thought both of the women could handle the sight better than Pemulabee could, considering one was a healer and the other a Wanderer, but she said nothing. She simply held out her hand to steady him.
“Thank you,” he said, climbing down. “Wait here.”
“Of course.”
The body was so… strange. And stiff. It was hard to take her eyes away once she started looking. What was the opposite of lifelike? Stitched back up and replaced with sand, perhaps. It looked like Ulinda had been replaced with sand.
“…I’m glad of the company, to be honest. I wouldn't relish driving in this alone. We'll obviously need to conduct a thorough investigation and your expertise will be essential.”
Kylara couldn’t hear the response, but it wasn’t Imla’s voice. Wawiriya?
Then another voice, and that one was distinctive. Multhamurra was here.
Kylara turned around to see a group of four–Pemulabee, Wawiriya, Multhamurra, and Malyun–approaching. Neither Imla, Dhaligir, nor Janeyca were with them. That was probably best. They didn’t need a big group standing around gawking.
“I assume Dhaligir found the body?” Malyun said.
“Er, no,” Pemulabee corrected. “Kylara did. It’s just up ahead…”
Kylara watched silently as the group approached. She could see the exact moment each of them caught sight of the body. Their expressions changed. Malyun saw it first, then Wawiriya, and finally Multhamurra. Malyun’s face was of pure shock, Wawiriya’s a sombre recognition, and Multhamurra’s was a strange calculating intensity. It was interesting how they differed.
There was a long and heavy silence.
“Who would do something like this?” Malyun voiced after a moment. “Who could have done something like this?”
“Kylara nearly saw the killer,” Pemulabee said. “He fled when she approached.”
“I don’t know if it was a he,” Kylara said, “I didn’t get a real look. But yeah, I think they fled west when they heard me.”
“You’re tracking them?” Multhamurra asked. He squinted into the distance, then looked up. “Ah,” he said. “They’re that far off already?”
“Yeah. How–?”
He pointed up. “There are a few trigger wards up there that weren’t before, big massive spheres around the entire town. More than a kilometre across, I'd say. I assume you have more specific ones closer to the ground as well?”
“Yeah,” Kylara said. "The big one goes off if they get too close to town."
He smiled at her softly. “Clever.”
“Where are they?” Wawiriya asked. “What coordinates?”
“Five thousand range, both axes.”
“And for the non-warders here…?” Pemulabee asked.
“Near where the bushfire started,” Wawiriya said. “We’ll be able to catch them on bird easily enough.”
More silence.
It’s interesting how everyone is reacting, Kylara thought. Malyun was doing everything she could to avoid looking at the body, which mostly involved staring in Pemulabee’s and Kylara’s direction. Wawiriya was looking directly at Multhamurra as if she was trying to silently get his attention. Multhamurra was staring, unblinking, at Ulinda. There was something unreadable in his eyes. And finally, Pemulabee wasn’t looking anywhere in particular. He seemed the calmest of them all, but it was an aloof type of calmness, not a reassuring one.
“Something doesn’t feel right,” Wawiriya said.
“One of our own is dead,” Malyun spat. “That hasn’t happened since my daughter was killed. Of course it doesn’t feel right.”
“No, this is different,” Wawiriya said. She closed her eyes. “Just… I don’t know.”
“I know what you mean,” Multhamurra said. “Probably less, but… I feel it too. Sets my teeth on edge. What exactly do we know?”
“I found her here about an hour ago,” Kylara said.
“Did you help kill her?” Malyun said.
“What?”
“Malyun!” Pemulabee shot her a look.
“What? Tell me if it’s an insulting question, but it is something we still need to ask. She’s a warder. She tells the truth. What’s the harm?”
Wawiriya was glaring at her.
“So,” Malyun said. “Did you kill her?”
“Yes,” Kylara said, savouring the expression in Malyun’s face for just a second. “You’re right. That is insulting. I already told you. The killer fled.”
“Mm,” Malyun hummed. “I had to ask.”
“Well,” Multhamurra clapped, trying to defuse the tension in the air. He looked at Pemulabee, then at the body. “Can I?” he asked, gesturing tentatively towards Ulinda.
“Can you what?” Pemulabee asked, regarding the man with disconcertingly penetrating eyes. Multhamurra’s features remained impassive. “Frankly, I am not sure why you are here. This is not business an outsider should be involved in.”
“Pem,” Wawiriya said. A flicker of… something crossed the magsman’s face. Relief? Loyalty? "I asked him to be here for a reason. Let him be.”
“I’ll be respectful,” Multhamurra assured the council head.
“Fine,” Pemulabee said after a moment. “But be quick.”
And with that, Multhamurra leapt over the nearest rock. Kylara hesitated, then followed him. She would rather be near the body than near Malyun at the moment.
“What are you looking for?” she whispered to the magsman.
“Anything,” he said. His fingers traced the rock as if he was trying to mentally reconstruct what might have happened. Then he jumped over the body and squatted down next to her face. He looked closely at it for several long seconds, almost as if he was trying to memorise it. Like it was something beautiful.
“Care to be more specific?” Kylara said.
He looked up abruptly. “Oh, you know. The usual. Signs of a struggle,” he reached down and traced Ulinda's hairline. “The position of the body,” Multhamurra abruptly stood up.
He moves like a teenager, Kylara thought. Despite being seventy.
“Weapons involved…” Multhamurra picked a small rock off the ground and winced, looking up. Then he scrambled back up, pocketed the rock, and then took a measured step back.
“I’m sorry,” he said after a second.
“What for?”
“That you had to see that. She was alive when you found her, wasn’t she?”
“She was.”
“What did she say?”
Kylara just shook her head. “Nothing much,” she replied. “I– I don’t think she could speak much. She wanted her brother. I asked her who did this, but either she couldn’t say or she didn’t want to say. I dunno. I wasn’t here when she died. She wanted a healer and I knew it was useless but–” Kylara’s voice broke.
“But you respected her enough to fulfil her last wish,” Multhamurra said. “You left.”
"I left her to die."
Multhamurra jumped down from the rock until he was at her eye level. “When you dream about this–and you will, you’ll have nightmares for a long, long time, running through everything again and again–you hold on to that thought.” He put his hands on her shoulder. Kylara could feel her resolve cracking. Tears were beginning to fall. “Keep it with you. Tight as you can. Use it to push back at the gnawing guilt. You did what she wanted. You understand?”
“I– I think so,” Kylara said, as evenly as she could manage.
“Good!” Multhamurra closed his eyes and tilted his head as if he were listening to something.
“Have you found anything?” Pemulabee shouted.
Multhamurra’s head shot up. “We have,” he said.
They walked back to the group.
“What did you find?”
Multhamurra looked at Kylara. “You go first.”
“Me?”
“You’re still tracking the killer, aren’t you?”
Kylara nodded. Despite the magsman’s words, she felt excruciatingly nervous. She was convinced she had done the right thing by delaying getting the others but looking at their gazes, it felt weird. Like she had to justify it.
“Well,” she stumbled, “you know how trigger wards work. They are wards that break when something goes through their borders. So I’ve been using them to track the killer and what they’ve been carrying.” She took a deep breath. Wawiriya was staring at her.
“They are carrying gold but no other metals. So no gun, no lower denominations coins like silver or copper. That means the murder weapon was probably made of wood. Western myall, more specifically. That’s the only wood they have on their person. Now the next question is spear or knife. I’m guessing spear just by the extent of the wounds, but whoever did this is strong, fast, and has a lot of endurance. It could easily have been a knife. Whatever it is, they still are carrying it. There’s no weapon left behind.” She glanced at Malyun briefly. “The next thing is that the leather of their shoes is imported, but their clothes are not. So… the killer is someone who lives nearby, but has connections elsewhere? Maybe?” She looked at Multhamurra, who nodded.
“And, er, they are also wearing a necklace of periwinkle shells. Find out who that necklace belongs to, find them.” Malyun was staring at her now. “Er… I think that’s it. There might be more. I don’t know. I wrote it all down before I got you, Pemulabee.”
“Impressive,” Wawiriya said. Multhamurra was grinning broadly. He looked ready to break into applause. Kylara was glad he was standing behind Malyun instead of in front of her.
Pemulabee eyed Wawiriya. “Does that all seem plausible to you?”
“It does,” the Wanderer replied.
Pemulabee seemed a bit disturbed. “I didn’t know warders could track with that much detail.”
“Well,” Malyun said, “at least we know she’s telling the truth.” Kylara tried not to flinch at the words.
“Multhamurra,” Wawiriya said, “what do you think? You went down there.”
“Well, I wasn’t able to be nearly as thorough, but right. Here it is.” He took a deep breath. “From the angle of the victim's wounds and the trajectory of the attack, the murderer was medium height, but not particularly heavy. Less than seventy-ish kilograms, I’d say, going off shoe size and distribution of pressure. Probably a man judging by sheer strength, but not a manual labourer. Whoever did this had rather long fingernails.”
Multhamurra took the rock out of his pocket, threw it a half metre into the air, and caught it again. “Here,” he said, “I’m going to disagree with Kylara here. This,” he said, “not a spear, was the murder weapon.”
“What do you mean?” Malyun asked.
“This rock,” he repeated, slower, “is what killed her. This young woman was here–crying, I suspect–there’s a handkerchief just under her left hand with tear marks but no blood–when the killer threw this rock. It hit her head–there is a bump just behind her hairline here–” he pointed to his own forehead, “the rock fell, and she picked it up in confusion. She stood up, looking for where it came from.”
At this, Multhamurra glanced up at the trees. “It came from here,” he pointed. “See those broken branches?” He hopped back a few steps and glanced back at the body. “She turned around a few times–” he demonstrated by spinning around a few times himself, “and then she got tackled from behind. There’s blood on this rock from where she initially fell. I think you can picture what happened next.”
“This is ridiculous,” Malyun said. “Are you saying that–” Malyun gestured to the body, “was done with that rock? All that?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“Forgive me, but how is that possible?”
“Someone very strong and very angry, I imagine.”
“I don’t believe this,” Malyun said.
“Can I see?” Pemulabee said.
“Sure,” Multhamurra said. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the rock flying in the elder’s direction. Pemulabee caught it easily.
Pemulabee examined the rock. “There’s fingerprints,” he said.
Multhamurra looked back in surprise. “There are?” he asked.
“From the dried blood.”
“Can I see?” Malyun asked. Pemulabee handed it to her.
“I still don’t see how something this small could do this,” she muttered in disbelief.
“Strength,” Wawiriya said, shaking her head. “Sheer strength did this.”
Multhamurra was back crouching over the body. “Strength,” he said, “and persistence. They hit her with that–” he looked down at the body, “four, fiv– six times. Six blows. That’s all it took.”
Kylara held out her hand and Malyun gave her the rock. She turned it over in her hand. It was so small and nearly smooth. It was about the size of her palm and oval in shape. Only one edge was jagged. She tested its weight, tossing it between her hands. Most of the blood looked like it had crusted off. She turned it over. It had an odd-looking black stripe around it. A gneiss? It looked familiar.
“I know this rock,” she said after a moment. “This is the rock I threw at the koel.”