"Shed. . . ."

Shed shoved him. He staggered backward, tripped, rolled down a flight of stairs. Shed charged after him, hurled him down another flight.

"Shed, please. ..."

"Where's the money, Wally? I want the money."

"I don't have it, Shed. I spent it. Honest. The kids had to have clothes. We had to eat. I couldn't help it, Shed. You had so much. . . . You're family, Shed. You're supposed to help."

Shed shoved him into the street, kicked him in the groin, dragged him upright, started slapping. "Where is it, Wally? You couldn't have spent that much. Hell, your kids are wearing rags. I paid you enough to handle that. Because you were family. I want the money you stole." As he raged, Shed drove his cousin toward the Lily.

Wally whined and begged, refusing to tell the truth. Shed guessed he had stolen upward of fifty leva, enough to have completed the renovation of the Lily. This hadn't been petty pilfering. He hurled blows in an angry rain.

He herded Wally around behind the Lily, away from prying eyes. "Now I get nasty, Wally."

"Shed, please. ..."

"You stole from me and you're lying about it. I could forgive you for doing it for your family. But you didn't. Tell me. Or give it back." He punched Wally hard.

The pain in his hands, from hitting the man, sapped his rage. But then Wally broke. "I lost it gambling. I know I

was stupid. But I was so sure I was going to win. They took me. They let me think I was going to win big, then took me, and the only way out was to steal. They would have killed me. I borrowed from Gilbert after I told him how good you were doing. ..."

"Lost it? Gambling? Borrowed from Gilbert?" Shed muttered. Gilbert had moved in on Krage's territories. He was a bad as his predecessor. "How could you be so stupid?" The rage took him again. He snatched a board off a scrap pile left for kindling. He hit Wally hard. And hit him again. His cousin went down, stopped trying to fend off the blows.

Shed froze, suddenly coldly rational. Wally wasn't moving. "Wally? Wally? Hey, Wally. Say something."

Wally did not respond.

Shed's stomach knotted. He tossed the board into the pile. "Have to get that inside before people cart it off." He gripped his cousin's shoulder. "Come on, Wally. I won't hit you anymore."

Wally did not move.

"Oh, shit," Shed muttered. "I killed him." This tore it. What now? There wasn't much justice in the Buskin, but what there was was quick and rough. They would hang him sure.

He whirled, looking for witnesses. He saw no one. His mind flew in a hundred directions. There was a way out. No body, no proof that murder had been done. But he'd never gone up that hill alone.