The Viking Witch Mysteries: Books 4-6

Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

As we walked up the road towards my house, we could see the well standing alone in the center of the commons at the top of the hill silhouetted against the graying sky.

"Tell me about these footsteps," Thorbjorn said.

"There's nothing more to tell," I said. "They came and went so quickly. I was the only one outside, or at least it felt that way. And the air had a strange quality to it. You know how when it's really cold it feels like sound can just travel forever? And it's not like being in a fog, where every sound is like it's coming from all around you. No, in the cold air it's more like everything you hear is the same volume, near or far, and you can hear things from so very far away. Do you know what I mean?"

"A bit," he said, but pressed on for more concrete information. "You said before you couldn't tell the direction, but what about other clues? Like, how heavy was the tread? Would you guess that it was a man or a woman?"

"I really couldn't say," I said with a sigh. "It was over before I could really properly listen."

"Is it possible there was more than one person? Perhaps two running together?"

"Is that likely?" I asked. "No, I'm pretty sure it was just one person. But beyond that, I don't know."

He grunted. I wasn't sure what that sound meant, but at least we were standing at my garden gate now.

"You're coming in, right?" I asked.

"Absolutely," he said. "I want to be here when Sigvin tells her tale."

"I'll get some coffee going, then," I said. I knew I must be craving it something fierce, because I could almost smell it brewing already. I shed my outer layers, then went into the kitchen.

And came to an abrupt halt in the doorway. There were already people in my kitchen. "Nilda. Kara."

"Ingrid," Nilda said, getting up from the table to pull me into a tight hug.

"You've heard about Nefja," I guessed.

"We heard," Kara said.

"We let ourselves in. I hope that's okay?" Nilda said.

"We figured you were working the case already, and that you'd appreciate coffee and rolls when you got back," Kara said. She looked as glum as her sister, although she perked up a little when Thorbjorn appeared in the doorway.

"Rolls?" he asked.

"Cinnamon rolls," Nilda said. "We just put them in the oven, but they'll be ready shortly."

Now that I knew I wasn't imagining the coffee smell in the air, I realized I had also been smelling cinnamon as well as yeasty bread. And just like that, my mouth was watering.

"You guys are working together again?" Kara asked with a feigned casual air. "The inseparable pair are on the case."

"Yes, indeed," Thorbjorn said. "We're waiting for Sigvin to come and tell us what happened last night."

"What do you mean last night? Not early this morning?" Nilda asked.

"Sigvin wasn't there when it happened, was she?" Kara asked. "That's not what we heard. We heard Nefja fell in the well, but if no one raised an alarm, she must have been alone."

"I didn't think it could be an accident," Nilda said, hugging herself tightly. "I wanted to think it was, but I just didn't. It didn't make any sense, Nefja out alone in the middle of the night just falling into the well. But her being out in the middle of the night getting murdered doesn't make any sense either."

"Sigvin said Nefja had been drinking," I said.

Nilda and Kara traded a glance.

"Yes, she had definitely been drinking," Nilda said. I waited for her to go on, but instead she turned to the coffeepot and filled a mug for Thorbjorn and another for me. I put my face over the mouth of my mug, letting the rich roasted smell of the coffee and the heat of the steam both wash over my face before taking a sip.

"You two were there as well," Thorbjorn said as he accepted the other mug from Nilda's hands.

"At the mead hall we were at the other night?" I guessed.

"The same," Nilda said, sliding back into the chair she had been sitting in before. Thorbjorn and I joined her and Kara at the table.

"Did anything strange or remarkable happen besides the drinking?" Thorbjorn asked.

"It didn't seem so at the time," Kara said.

"Just tell it all from the beginning," I suggested. "Something that seems minor now could be important later when we have more leads, so don't leave anything out."

"Okay," Nilda said, glancing at her sister.

"You tell it," Kara said. "I'll pipe in if there's anything I want to add."

"Okay," Nilda said again, pressing her palms flat on the surface of my table. I could see she was reluctant to start, or unsure where to begin, but I said nothing. Eventually she came to a decision and with a little nod began her tale.

"When Kara and I came in, it was about dinnertime for us. Which is early for most, so it wasn't weird that the only customer in the place was Roarr. He was eating alone, sort of."

"Sort of?" I asked.

"He didn't have anyone at the table with him," she said. "But that server, Bera... do you know her?" I shook my head. "She was there the night we all were there. But she's kind of quiet, so I'm not surprised you don't remember her. She just brought us our food and refilled our cups. She's not one for chatting with the customers."

"She likes Roarr," Kara said. "He always gets extra on his plate, and she's super attentive to keeping his cup full. You must have noticed that."

I cast my mind back to our evening together. I remembered meatballs and mashed vegetables and more kinds of little cubes of cheese than I could identify.

Then I also remembered how Roarr, who had been sitting between me and Loke, always had more food than the rest of us. I hadn't really noticed that server, aside from thinking to myself that she seemed awfully tiny to be schlepping so much food around.

"Did Roarr do anything?" Thorbjorn asked.

"No, he was just eating by himself, perfectly content," Nilda said. "Or he was until we came in, because Sigvin and Nefja came in right behind us."

"Nefja was never subtle about her feelings for Roarr," Thorbjorn said.

"That's putting it mildly," Kara said.

"So did something happen?" I asked.

"Not that we saw," Nilda said. "But Kara and I weren't there long. I mean, Nefja was clearly trying to catch Roarr's eye, but she never managed it. He just focused on his food, and on Beer bringing him the food."

"I think he was ignoring Nefja on purpose," Kara put in.

"And for her part, Sigvin was preoccupied with the possibility that Loke might make another appearance," Nilda said. "It was a little lonely eating dinner with a bunch of companions all looking elsewhere." Her eyes made a quick darting glance to her sister, and I knew with perfect clarity that Nilda wasn't just talking about Sigvin and Nefja being distracted. Her own sister had been watching for someone special to arrive as well. But Nilda had no intention of outing her sister in front of her crush, so I said nothing either.

"Did Loke show up?" Thorbjorn asked.

"Not while we were there," Nilda said. "But we didn't stay long. Nefja was clearly determined to make Roarr notice her, and Sigvin was sort of giving in to that impulse. Like she was willing to sit up with her sister all night if that's what it took."

"Especially if Loke might stop by later," Kara said then took a sip of coffee.

"Yes. Well. I don't know," Nilda said in a primly diplomatic tone.

"We left early," Kara said, clearly a gesture to get the story back on track.

"Yes, we only stayed to eat, and then we went home," Nilda said. "I don't know that we saw anything that I would call suspicious exactly. But Nefja was definitely in a high energy mood. Keyed up. When we left, I remember feeling a little bad for Roarr. Because I was sure after another mug of ale or two, she'd be demanding he declare his feelings for her."

"Feelings he doesn't have," Kara said.

"Which would just be awkward for everyone involved," Nilda said.

"Is that why you left early?" I asked.

She flushed in embarrassment, and I knew the answer was yes.

"We should talk to Loke and Roarr," Thorbjorn said to me.

"Are they suspects?" Kara asked.

"We don't even know for sure that it's a murder yet," I admitted. "And anyway, why Loke?"

"Well, just to be thorough, we should get their sides of the story," he said.

"But we don't even know if Loke was there," I said.

"When we talk to him, we can find that out," Thorbjorn said, a little too perfectly reasonably.

"Do you want us to help?" Kara asked eagerly. "If you two are waiting here for Sigvin, Nilda and I can go find Roarr and Loke and tell them to come here and talk to you as well."

"That would be helpful," Thorbjorn agreed.

"Sure," I said.

"Keep an eye on those rolls," Nilda said as she got up from the table. "They'll be done when they're golden brown, probably five more minutes?"

"Got it," I said as I walked with her and her sister to the front door. "Thanks for doing that, by the way."

"Just our contribution to the pursuit of justice," she said. Then they each gave me another hug before heading out into the early morning street.

The snow was already blinding. Or perhaps the sudden jabbing pain in my head was not from the light but from yet another morning with too much caffeine and too little sleep.

When my front door closed, I turned but headed out to the great room rather than the kitchen. I crossed to my easel to pick up the shattered remains of the charcoal stick I had dropped hours before. Then I looked at the overlapping runes like tumbling ghost shapes against the darkness of the charcoal. What I had been doing looked more like a negative image of a drawing than an actual drawing, like I had formed the shapes by removing charcoal rather than adding it.

It was eerie, but it didn't have any magical glow in my eyes. But I must have unleashed something. I had been spilling my emotions over onto half the town without even realizing it. I had it under control now, but I hadn't before.

Had I made this whole thing happen? Had I been putting out some sort of energy across the whole sleeping village? Had it affected Nefja and the person who had been running away?

I didn't like that feeling at all. But my logical brain insisted that it was probably a coincidence, that I had been drawing when the accident happened. It didn't feel like I had caused anything.

But it hadn't felt like I was emotionally controlling the crowd either.

With a sigh, I headed back to the kitchen with the broken bits of charcoal in my hand. My nose was telling me it was time to take those rolls out of the oven, and that was one sense I knew I could still rely on.