Chapter Eight
Seeing a dead body wasn’t a new experience for Cricket or one she would shy away from. When she was a child, and the plague had come, dead bodies littered the streets, covered in pustules oozing sickness. Her younger brother had suffered that same fate, his little heart and lungs unable to battle any longer. But she’d never seen a death like this before, one where not only the flesh was sliced but ripped open, exposing organs inside of a bloody, cracked rib cage. The woman’s body had been mutilated, then decorated with dahlias as though her murder were a celebration.
Cricket’s heart pounded, and her lungs tightened while she clenched her rib cage. She didn’t scream or sob like the other woman who’d found this body had done, only stared, time freezing in place as something clawed beneath her flesh.
Even then, when a dark dahlia bloomed from her hand, she couldn’t move. Zephyr noticed, and his fingers remained steady while opening her locket to pull out a dried rose petal.
“You have to part your lips for me,” he whispered as he held the petal in front of her mouth, the rose scent taking away some of the metallic odor from the victim’s blood.
Cricket blinked and opened her mouth, knowing she didn’t have the strength to attempt to reel her curiosity back in and would surely fail if she tried. So she let him slide the petal onto her tongue. As she chewed, the rose flavor consuming her senses, the scratching halted, then, like the sun dipping beneath the horizon, the dahlia hid somewhere back in her bloodstream.
“I was on my way home from an inn.” The dark-haired woman sobbed, stumbling beside Cricket. Zephyr caught the woman’s arm just before she toppled into the grass. She yanked away from his grasp, seeming to not want to be touched. The woman reeked of alcohol, and her eyes were glazed red. She looked as though she’d spent most of the night at a pub, and judging by the smell of her, she’d spent most of that time drinking. Cricket didn’t fault her for it—after this, she might need to drink until she passed out herself.
“Did you see anyone on the road at all?” Zephyr asked.
The woman squinted and rubbed her temple. “Not near here. No.” Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she looked away from the victim.
Taking a breath, Cricket searched around for any footprints near the slain woman without getting too close but couldn’t see any against the weed-covered ground. She glanced at Zephyr. “I don’t know how long she’s been here, but we need to get the authorities.”
“Can you have someone take a horse into town to get them, then bring Mistress Eliza here to see if she can try her necromancy on the victim?” Zephyr asked. “I don’t want you to have to wait out here with the body, and I can see if maybe this woman missed something before the authorities come.”
Perhaps the victim had seen something, could tell them precisely who had done this horrific misdeed if she could be risen. Cricket prayed that Mistress Eliza’s necromancy would finally work, that she could close up the wounds, make them disappear as if they’d never been there at all, the way she had for Cricket.
“All right,” Cricket said as she stood, relieved he’d asked her to go instead of stay. She hurried through the trees and back toward the field where the caravans were. More performers had gathered around the fire to eat, ignorant of the horrors just beyond their sight, their cheerful music having drowned out the unfortunate passerby’s screams.
“There’s been a murder!” Cricket shouted to them, and the music halted—everyone focused on her. “Near the road. Can someone take a horse into town and get the authorities?”
“I’ll do it,” Wilder said, setting his food bowl beside Autumn.
“Thank you,” Cricket rushed the words out as she hurried to Mistress Eliza’s.
When she reached the necromancer’s caravan, Juniper stood beside her, chatting. Mistress Eliza’s eyes met Cricket’s, and she furrowed her brow. “Why do you look so pale, child? Did the dahlias come again?”
One did, but she wasn’t going to discuss her failed curiosity now. “Another woman has been killed. There, beyond the trees,” Cricket said between panted breaths. “She was left … gutted. And … her body is decorated with dahlias. Wilder is taking a horse to get the authorities, but maybe you can bring her back to life for answers.”
“A body?” Juniper gasped.
“I can certainly try. But no promises,” Mistress Eliza said as she removed the three ruby stones from her pouch. “Is it someone from the carnival?”
Cricket shook her head and motioned them to follow her. “No, it isn’t a performer, and I’ve never seen her before.” She didn’t run as quickly as she would’ve because of Mistress Eliza’s limping, but the woman moved a bit faster than she’d ever seen her, though she winced, struggling to keep up.
“Do you think it was a customer from last night?” Juniper asked.
“It could’ve been, but there were so many faces.”
Cricket’s chest tightened as she remembered her conversation with Bram the night before. How the victims’ hair and eyes matched hers. The body was so close to the carnival, and she knew she had to tell them, even though she would’ve rather kept it bottled up inside so she wasn’t to blame if the killer was doing this because of her.
“I spoke with an old friend last night. Bram is also one of the authorities,” Cricket started. “He told me that the victims of the Dahlia Murders have certain traits in common with me. All of them are young, blonde, and have blue eyes.”
“That doesn’t necessarily mean it has anything to do with you,” Juniper pointed out.
“Let’s not jump to wild conclusions and make ourselves hysterical. I need to focus on this woman, and this woman alone, if you expect me to help her,” Mistress Eliza said, her gaze trained on the road once they pressed out from the trees. A small crowd of performers had gathered around the body as if it were an act they were watching and not an innocent woman who’d been slain by a murderous monster.
“There’s no time to stand around gawking like a bunch of fools,” Mistress Eliza snapped, breaking through the crowd to get to the victim. “If you didn’t witness anything, return to your caravans!”
None of the performers argued as they turned to walk away, muttering and gossiping under their breaths to one another. Only Zephyr, Juniper, Cricket, and the frightened woman remained alongside Mistress Eliza as the necromancer knelt beside the mutilated body. Water and blood gathered at the hem of her skirt.
“Wilder already left on horseback, so it shouldn’t take long for the authorities to come,” Zephyr said, then turned to the woman who had discovered the body. “Sarah tried to recall if she saw anything suspicious, but nothing came to mind.”
“Let me see if I can get us some answers.” Mistress Eliza took a breath, seeming to gather her strength. No matter that the woman’s necromancy had faded, Cricket chanted prayers inside her head that it would work this time, that the victim’s heart would beat once more.
“What is she doing?” Sarah asked, wrinkling her nose as she observed Mistress Eliza.
“She’s a necromancer,” Juniper said, waving her off. “Now, keep quiet while she works.”
Cricket studied the victim’s round face, her delicate features, and the dahlias covering her eyes like coins given to the dead for their safe passage into the afterlife. She still didn’t recognize her, but perhaps she’d passed her in a shop or on the streets as one did, simply not noticing each face in a crowd.
Mistress Eliza placed a hand on the woman’s blood-speckled shoulder, the other clutching the stones. She closed her eyes as her lips moved in a silent chant. Cricket had never seen her bring another to life, only her failed attempts on animals. From what she’d heard, no smoke or glittery magic filled the air—they just awoke, and any wounds they may have suffered from were gone. Physical ones, anyway.
Cricket trembled as she looked on, then Zephyr’s arm wrapped around her waist, steadying her. The victim’s body twitched, and Sarah gasped at the same moment Cricket’s heart galloped. Hope coursed through her while she continued to watch.
Mistress Eliza chanted faster, her fist shaking as she held the stones. The victim’s hands fluttered, then lifted slightly before falling back into the puddles, the dahlias in her palms. Her hands and her body unmoving, yet Mistress Eliza didn’t relinquish her grasp on the young woman’s shoulder. She whispered, her words drifting on the wind and becoming audible, commanding the woman’s chest to close up, for her to wake, to speak. But the victim remained still, any secrets she carried gone, taken with her where no one could follow.
A harsh cough spilled from Mistress Eliza’s throat, and she released the woman’s shoulder to grip her chest as though in pain. “I can’t get her to rise, damn it. She’s gone.” The necromancer sighed, her breathing ragged.
Cricket and Zephyr rushed to Mistress Eliza’s sides to grasp her arms as she shakily stood.
“I hear someone,” Juniper said, stepping back and peering down the road. “Wilder and two authorities are coming on horses.”
Mistress Eliza brushed Cricket and Zephyr off and straightened as she limped to where Juniper waited. The hooves of the horses pounded the road, coming closer. She recognized one of the authorities when they approached—Charles. A lanky man with gray peppering brown hair and a matching mustache. He’d been the one to train Bram as soon as he turned eighteen. The other young man was possibly a few years older than her, with his hair trimmed short.
The two authorities stopped in front of them. “You may return to the carnival,” Charles said to Wilder before sliding down from his horse. He then turned to face them, his gaze meeting Cricket’s, and he motioned her toward him while the second authority began questioning the others.
“Bram told me the news that you were alive about a month ago,” Charles muttered as she approached him. “It’s curious how you were brought back to life after being buried. You know it’s a crime to disturb a body without consent.” What she knew about Charles was that he loathed when the carnival came to town and had never believed necromancy should be allowed.
Cricket frowned, not understanding what this had to do with the murder that had just occurred. “I crawled out of the grave myself,” she lied, then pointed toward where the victim’s body rested. “It’s not me we should be concerned about here, but this poor woman instead.”
He followed her closer, and his mouth formed a tight line. “Dahlias again… Just as they were on yours. It’s strange how someone is mimicking an old murder. And you saw nothing?”
Cricket shook her head. “None of us did. I wasn’t the one who found her, so I have nothing else to say.”
“Hmph.” Charles clucked his tongue, then motioned the other authority to his side. “Miles, come here.”
Cricket couldn’t hear their conversation as Charles pulled Miles toward the victim. But then Charles barked, “Someone disturbed the body.”
“I did.” Mistress Eliza narrowed her eyes. “I tried to see if there was any life left in her to get answers.”
“There clearly wasn’t,” Charles grumbled.
The sound of creaking wheels filled the air when the coroner’s carriage approached. Soon they were pushed back as the authorities took over, beginning their investigation in earnest. Miles removed the dahlias from the victim’s eyes and lifted one lid. They were indeed a light shade of blue.
They discussed matters for a little while longer between one another when Miles offered to take Sarah home, and Charles finally said, “I would suggest closing the carnival for a few days.”
“A few days?” Mistress Eliza cried. “We’re not closing the carnival for that long. No crime was committed inside my carnival. There is no reason for my performers to suffer a loss. Unless you plan to cover our expenses yourself.”
Charles’s lips curled into a sneer. “One day this time, then. But it will be longer if we find out the victim was at the carnival.”
“Of course,” Mistress Eliza agreed and turned to Juniper. “Round everyone up. I’ll inform them the carnival will be closed. For today only. We’ll reopen tomorrow evening.”
“Yes, Mistress Eliza,” Juniper said, clutching the skirts of her dress and darting through the trees.
“Take as much time to yourself today as you need.” Mistress Eliza patted Cricket’s shoulder before limping away.
Bram wasn’t with the authorities, and he would discover what happened soon, but she was supposed to have already been there anyway.
Cricket started down the road when Zephyr caught up with her. “You’re still going for tea after that ?”
“I don’t think I’ll be able to drink tea at all today,” she said as she continued walking. “But I want to let Bram know what happened and uncover a few things anyway. He doesn’t live far from here.”
“Let me at least take you there.” Concern filled his eyes as he looked at her.
After seeing a victim’s body, going alone probably wasn’t such a good idea. “I’ll take your offer, then.”
Cricket glanced over her shoulder to find Charles watching them with a scowl as the victim’s body was wrapped in sheets to be loaded into the carriage.