Chapter Nine
The town center was busy as usual. An older woman in a pale green dress watered plants outside the flower shop while two men got their shoes shined in front of another. Through the food market window, a bald man cleaved apart a large chunk of bloodied meat. Cricket turned away in disgust, reminded of the dead woman’s open rib cage. Instead, she focused on the lovely smell drifting out from the bread and pastry shops.
Zephyr walked beside her down the bustling streets, close enough to where his woodsy scent cocooned her. Word of the recent murder hadn’t made it to the town yet, but it would soon.
She kept alert, searching for anyone who might seem suspicious or keep their eyes trained on her a beat too long, but stares only lingered on Zephyr, with his kohl-lined eyes and exposed chest. He’d slipped on a vest he’d pulled from his bag, unbothered that there wasn’t a shirt to wear beneath it.
“All the women are looking at you,” she whispered. And something akin to jealousy swirled within her, making her frown.
“There’s only one woman I want looking at me,” he purred as they turned the corner, and a blush crept up her neck. “I always like when the carnival visits Nobel.”
“Because of the attention you get?” She arched a brow.
“Partly.” Zephyr grinned. “Though it’s mostly because people are so welcoming here. In other cities, not so much. You’ll see.”
“If Mistress Eliza allows me to stay.” She sighed, remembering how, once again, her curiosity had reared its ugly head with a devilish black flower instead of a rose. “Are you going to mention the dahlia slipping out to her?”
“What dahlia?” he said slyly.
Cricket smiled and grasped his upper arm, drawing him to a stop as they rounded another corner. “Thank you.”
“I think you just wanted me in this back alley.” His playful expression softened. “But seriously, how are you? I know it wasn’t easy seeing that.”
“It’s worse than a nightmare. I’m going to help Bram in whatever way I can, though.” Being bold and desperate for a drink, she slipped her hand into his pocket and fished out the flask. “May I?”
Zephyr nodded, his gaze hooded. “Mm-hmm. Reach in there any time you bloody well wish.”
Rolling her eyes, she took a swig of the liquor and let the burn ease her tension. Before she could put it back, he drank from the flask.
“Come on, we’re almost there.” Cricket led him down a winding road to a neighborhood with several large manors, lush and beautiful gardens decorating the front of each one.
Zephyr chatted about mundane things like the reason why the sky was blue, and she knew it was to keep her distracted. She was thankful for it too.
A gust of warm wind blew past them, carrying the salty scent of the sea that lingered on the other side of the cliff behind the manors. Bram’s palatial home came into view—gray stone, tall windows, and perfectly manicured gardens beneath the dancing rays of the sun surrounded a majestic fountain of a stag with a stream of water falling from its mouth.
Anika used to come here as a child when her mother worked for Bram’s parents, which was how Cricket had met him.
“This is Bram’s home,” Cricket said as she pointed at the black iron fence. “I can ask him to take you back to the carnival with the carriage if you don’t want to walk.”
Zephyr blinked, his face neutral—she now understood it to be a way of him wanting to hide how he felt. “No, I’m fine with walking. I didn’t expect an authority to be so wealthy. This is a manor fit for a damn prince.”
“It belonged to his parents, but his father passed away during the plague, and his mother’s lungs weren’t great after. She was bedridden until she didn’t wake up one morning three years ago.
His face softened at her words. “No parents. Seems we have that in common.”
“And kind hearts.” She smiled, her voice gentle. “You both have that.”
Zephyr’s expression washed away, replaced by something more playful. “Well, I have a kind heart that can make you feel good any time you want.”
“That can make me come as many times as I wish?” Cricket let out a small laugh when Zephyr’s eyes widened in surprise. “Seems you aren’t the only one who can say unexpected things at inappropriate moments. I’ll see you back at the carnival, and thank you for accompanying me here.” She walked through the gate, glancing back as she padded up the garden pathway. He continued to watch her, and she knew it was to ensure she safely made it inside. Her heart gave an extra thump as she looked away from him, passing around the water fountain.
Behind the manor, a fine mist drifted up from the sea, and she loved the days when it would pour in over the garden as if this place was meant to be in a mystery story. She bit the inside of her cheek, reminding herself that she was currently in one.
Two servants, Nettie and Ebba, tended to the flowers and weeds in the gardens near the front of the manor. They looked up as she passed, their eyes blinking in surprise.
“Hello.” Cricket smiled at them like she always used to, and they both waved. She wondered if they were uncomfortable that she’d once been dead, the way Charles had been around her earlier. But she and the other carnival performers weren’t immortal—they would all die one day just like them.
The various-colored rose bushes were in full bloom, and she brushed her fingers across a bright red bloom, hoping it would somehow get her curiosity to start behaving by bringing her the flowers she needed.
On either side of the door were potted succulent plants, something Bram’s mother always had, saying how one never knew when aloe vera might be necessary to help heal a wound. Cricket and Anika hadn’t grown up wealthy, but that had never mattered to Bram. Just as it hadn’t when Bram’s father married his mother.
Cricket’s heart pounded faster as she lifted her fist to knock, the deep rumble loud in her ears. Perhaps she should’ve asked Zephyr to accompany her further, but she didn’t want Mistress Eliza to get annoyed with him when she needed him back at the carnival to help. She wished he didn’t have to be a part of these murders, yet after today, they both were.
As her nerves ticked inside her, she prayed the wicked dahlias wouldn’t sprout unwillingly, but her locket with the dried petals rested against her collarbone if she needed one. Even then, no scratching brushed her muscles while she waited.
She reached up to knock again when the door opened to a servant wearing a simple black dress and a white apron around her waist. The woman’s blonde hair was plaited back, her face unfamiliar.
“Hello,” Cricket said, her voice shaky. “I’m supposed to meet with Bram and Anika for tea. I may be later than expected.”
“Miss Cricket?” the woman asked, her smile bright and pleasant.
She nodded, fidgeting with the skirt of her dress.
“They’ve been expecting you. Come inside.” She shut the door behind them before gesturing her toward the long hallway. “Just take this all the way down to the drawing room, and I’ll let them know you’re here.”
“Of course.” Gilded-framed paintings still hung along the crimson silk wallpapered walls of the hallway. Lavender sat in tall vases across the wooden floor, and the scent tickled her nose. Besides the last time she’d visited, the manor was always comforting, quiet, peaceful. Before Bram’s mother passed away, she always had the servants decorate the home in lavender.
The hallway opened to the spacious drawing room with an unlit fireplace at the back. A blue chaise, two velvet red chairs, and a settee rested in the center. Between them, an ornate rug lay beneath a carved wooden table, a vase of lavender decorating it. Cricket recognized Anika’s artwork on the walls and smiled. She would know her friend’s style anywhere, the way she layered the colors and curved the lines.
Footsteps sounded from above, and Cricket glanced up to find Anika walking down the staircase, wearing a yellow dress with capped sleeves and white lace around the collar. Her feet were bare, and Cricket’s smile grew wider. Anika had always hated shoes.
Anika’s black hair hung to her waist in thick curls, and her stomach cast a small bump, barely noticeable. If Bram hadn’t admitted that Anika was with child, Cricket would’ve never guessed.
Cricket’s gaze lingered on Anika’s stomach a beat too long before meeting her dear old friend’s deep brown irises.
Anika smiled wide, and it lit up her eyes. As soon as she stopped in front of Cricket, her smile fell. “I’ve been worried sick. You took off without so much as a goodbye.”
“I did. I’m sorry.” Cricket bit the inside of her cheek, knowing she must’ve seemed like a wounded, envious shrew at first. After what Bram had told her, how Anika had always wanted children, her heart swelled, and she didn’t have to force herself to smile. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” Anika chewed on her lower lip, always her sign of anxiousness. She took a deep breath before speaking, “I should’ve told you when you were here last, but I was frightened. I didn’t want you to hate me more than you already did. If I had known you were alive, I never would’ve let Bram court me. Perhaps I shouldn’t have, even if you’d never returned.”
Cricket’s chest tightened, her friend’s words ringing true to her ears. She didn’t want to take away any of the happiness, even if it had been at Cricket’s expense. “Fate led us on this path. I know you love one another from the little while I saw you two together.” Setting away the last remnants of the hurt hidden deep within her, she placed her hands on Anika’s shoulders. “The world pushes us in directions we may never have found otherwise. You knew I always wanted to perform more than anything. And now I am.” She wouldn’t tell her the whole truth, that she hadn’t mastered her curiosity, that she only recently was allowed on the stage, and even then, it was her barely doing a few pirouettes. “At least we know the child will be beautiful.”
Anika released a choked sob and folded her arms around Cricket as though she might disappear again. “I missed you so much. My days aren’t the same without you,” she sniffed.
Cricket lifted her arms and held her just as tightly. “You have Bram.”
“Oh, you know how men are. Sometimes we need our closest female friend to gossip with.” She grinned as she drew back, tears gathering on her lashes and streaking her cheeks.
And then the true reason she was here washed over Cricket. It wouldn’t be about catching up over tea or learning more about the murders, but a discussion over the recent victim that Cricket had seen herself. “There’s something important I need to discuss, and it won’t be pleasant.”
“Is everything all right?” Bram asked, his voice concerned as he rounded the corner.
Cricket turned to find him dressed in a button-up white shirt and black trousers, his boots shined to perfection. “A woman’s body was found near the side of the road, not too far away from the carnival,” she said.
“Another one?” Anika gasped, cupping her mouth with both hands.
Bram pinched the bridge of his nose and cursed under his breath. “Did the authorities already come?”
“Yes, Charles and Miles showed up, then the carriage to take the body to the coroner’s followed suit. I had to—” Cricket was interrupted when Anika’s hand fell to her stomach and her face paled.
Bram circled his arm around Anika’s waist, holding her up. “Are you all right, darling?” he asked.
“I’m feeling nauseous again, and not only because of this news. I’m well now, though.” Anika stood straight and blew out a shallow breath when she brought a trembling fist to her mouth. “On the other hand, no, I’m not. This blasted morning sickness won’t stop.”
“You can lie down, Anika. I won’t be long,” Cricket said, worry lacing her tone. “I’ll come another time for tea and hopefully under better circumstances.”
“All right, I’ll see you soon.” Anika’s eyelids fluttered, her face becoming a shade of red as she held back nausea. “I’ve got it, Bram. Thank you.” She squeezed his hand and ascended the staircase. Bram watched her the entire way up, as did Cricket, afraid her friend might collapse, but she made it just fine.
Cricket glanced at Bram, concern swarming through her. “How often has this been happening?”
“Daily, but the doctor says it’s normal for some women to experience this. She’s better than yesterday morning. Her mother is normally here to help, but she’s visiting a relative. She’s due back today or tomorrow, though.”
Cricket didn’t want to know what Anika had looked like the day before.
“I’m afraid I need to go and see the coroner about the victim,” Bram said. “Would you like to stay here, or should I take you back to the carnival? I’m sincerely sorry.”
She glanced toward the empty staircase, thinking about her friend ill and alone. “No apologies. I’ll stay for a little while. I’d like to check on Anika after you leave.”
“Will you finish telling me first-hand what happened?” He grabbed a hat off the rack and placed it atop his head.
“Of course.” Cricket detailed the recent events, beginning with Zephyr walking with her and them stumbling on the screaming woman near the slain victim. How she retrieved Mistress Eliza and the necromancer’s failed attempt at bringing the victim back to life. The color of the woman’s hair being blonde, and her eyes blue. “No one saw anything, not even the woman who discovered the body.”
Bram ran a hand across his jaw, then tapped his fingers against it. Cricket wished these murders had never occurred, that she could’ve run into Anika in town before deciding to have tea together. They would’ve had the same conversation as earlier and could’ve moved on from the past, then laughed and chatted about everything else. But that wasn’t how it was.
“Anika isn’t blonde,” Cricket started, “and I know she doesn’t like to be a caged bird, but keep her safe.”
Bram gave her a half smile. “Anika does what she wants, just as you always did. You are both strong-willed women.”
Cricket needed to ask him the main question that nagged at her before he left. “Can you tell me the names of the victims? Maybe I knew them?”
“About three weeks ago,” Bram started, “Georgia Davies was the first to be murdered, and she was discovered in front of the Royal Oak Pub. Elanore Jones was found ten days later, not far from the library steps, then Phoebe Brown’s body, the most recent, was left in the alley near the western church. I went to school with Elanore, but we were never close.”
“I don’t recall ever having heard of any of these women. Did any of them work together?” Perhaps if they all danced like Cricket, it would mean something.
“No, their trades were all different. Georgia was a baker, Elanore a school teacher, and Phoebe didn’t have a profession but was engaged. None of them lived near one another or were friends. They had nothing in common besides their age, hair, and eye color.”
She bit the inside of her cheek and nodded.
“If there is anything you need, all you have to do is ask one of the servants, and they can fetch you some tea or anything else. I’m taking a horse, so if you want the carriage to bring you home, it’s there.”
The thought of tea still made her stomach churn. “Good luck, and thank you.”
“One more thing. If you need a place to stay, if this becomes too much to bear, Anika and I don’t mind you taking a room here in the least.”
“I’ll keep it in mind,” Cricket said as he hurried out of the room. If she stayed here, she would be pampered and have the softest of beds. It was quite tempting, but she’d grown used to the caravans and would miss the lumpy mattress and the sounds of the performers practicing.
Cricket wanted to check on Anika, so she went up the staircase, then turned down the hall, stopping at the first door. She knocked lightly. “May I come in? It’s Cricket.”
“If you can ignore the smell,” Anika groaned.
Cricket opened the door, and only a light smell of sickness permeated the air. Bram’s room looked less bare than it used to, and it was obvious it had a woman’s touch to doll it up. The floral curtains and matching rug, the vase of daisies and daffodils sitting on the desk.
“Bram left, but I wanted to stay with you a while. I suppose I couldn’t resist seeing your pretty face.” Cricket smiled, taking a seat beside Anika on the bed.
Anika opened her mouth to say something when she hurried to reach for the metal bucket beside the bed to expel her stomach.
“Tell me what happened earlier since I missed it,” Anika said, wiping her mouth with a cloth.
“Certainly, but only if you promise to show me where the baby’s room will be before I leave.”
“I promise.”
Cricket reached for a clean cloth on the night table and soaked it in a bowl of cool water. She squeezed the cloth out and set it atop Anika’s forehead before telling the dreary story once more. Unable to stop there, she confessed the truth about what was happening with her curiosity, the dahlias nearly consuming her.
“I want whoever is doing this hung. Just like that bastard Clancy,” Anika said when she finished.
“Me too.”
“As for the dahlias, you’ll get them to turn into roses. I may not know anything of these necromancer gifts, yet I will always aid you in any way I can. Even if it’s to help you fight the flowers off. However, I do hate to admit this, but I agree it’s best to hide them from any audiences for now.”
After Zephyr caught wind of her earlier spell with her curiosity, Cricket hadn’t planned on telling anyone about it, yet she’d always confided in Anika. “If I knew how to get them to appear right now, I would show you, but they are beastly things.” Things she wished she would never have to see again.