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“Let there not be a third time you frighten us like this.” Juniper sighed and squeezed Cricket’s hand. Mistress Eliza hunched beside Juniper, her lips set in a tight line as she smoked her pipe.
“I’ll try not to,” Cricket rasped. “I was attempting to get a rose petal from my locket, but my fingers were too numb and weak to open it. Everything came quicker than last time.” She couldn’t remember when she passed out, only the dahlias bursting from her.
“I didn’t know the petals were in there, so I brought you here,” Zephyr said. They were crouched at the foot of Mistress Eliza’s caravan steps.
“I was going to have you perform on stage with Zephyr.” Mistress Eliza frowned, trailing a hand down her cheek. “I thought it could possibly help your curiosity, but perhaps you’re not ready.”
The practice wasn’t only to provoke her curiosity to come to fruition but to prepare her to perform. Even if it was a simple task, such as being a piece to Zephyr’s act, it was a start and would be much better than standing behind the stage helping the other acts or cleaning up rubbish. “I can perform with Zephyr.”
Mistress Eliza tapped her chin, studying Cricket hard. “I’ll give you a chance, but start small. No dancing just yet. He can do a chair act with you and attempt to build up from there. Either way, I still need you to practice getting a hold on your curiosity so it doesn’t murder you. Do you understand?”
The thought of dying from suffocation made Cricket brush a hand to her throat where Clancy’s firm grip had been. But starting small could get her used to the stage, perhaps even gradually calling on the roses.
“I can do it.” Her chest heaved, though her voice was determined.
“If this goes well,” Mistress Eliza said, “we can slowly add in more, but if you can’t harness your curiosity, then I’m afraid you can’t travel with us anywhere else until you do. This carnival is not a charity. Unless you can contribute in an extraordinary fashion, like every one of my other performers, I’ll have to let you go, Cricket. With a murderer leaving black dahlias on victims, we can’t have you going around showing them, accident or not.”
“I’ll work harder, Mistress Eliza,” Cricket murmured, hating to admit that she understood her reasoning.
“I want you to stay with Juniper for the night. Let her watch over you in case this happens again.”
Cricket had mostly been taking care of herself while at the carnival, but after the past two days with the dahlias and hearing about the new murders, she didn’t think it would be a good idea to spend the night alone.
“Wilder went into town to find out about Clancy. I’ll let you know what he uncovers,” Mistress Eliza said, taking another puff of her pipe.
Cricket nodded, and as she attempted to push herself up on wobbly limbs, Zephyr’s strong arms came around her waist, helping her to stand. He steadied her when she stumbled, and even though she wished she could walk on her own and not appear like a newborn fawn, she leaned into his chest, letting him guide her away from Mistress Eliza’s caravan. A breeze blew past them, the wind becoming chillier.
Zephyr turned to Juniper as his arm firmly held onto Cricket and asked, “Can you collect our bags from the east side of the lake? I’ll bring her inside your caravan.”
“Of course.” Juniper took off toward the woods, her bright red curls bouncing behind her.
“So.” Zephyr smiled as they walked toward Juniper’s pink and white painted home. “Looks as though you’re stuck with me.”
She was thankful for his light mood, that he wasn’t acting overly protective about what had happened or telling her she needed to practice harder.
“It appears so,” she drawled.
Zephyr winked at her as he opened Juniper’s door. Cricket left his arms and sat on the edge of the lumpy bed, the sweet smell of Juniper’s home comforting. He handed her a canteen of water, and she drank half of it down, then slowed her pace. A few moments later, Juniper stepped inside, her cheeks flushed from the wind. She placed their bags beside the bed and ran a hand through her tangled curls.
“I better help set up before Mistress Eliza comes squawking about.” Zephyr smirked. “Do you need me to stay?”
“Go so she doesn’t become a grouch. I’ll get you if needed.” Juniper grasped her brother by the arm and led him out before turning to Cricket with a warm smile. “I’ll go make us some tea and leave the door open. You can shout if you need me.”
Cricket lay her head against the pillow, her eyelids too heavy to keep open. “I’ll be fine,” she said. But really, she didn’t know if that was true.
Cricket tightened the short black silk skirt over the crimson sleeveless one-piece at her waist. She added red powders to her eyes and a matching shade of gloss to her lips, then accentuated her cheekbones with a stroke of rosy pink on each side. Cricket had stayed with Juniper for one night before returning to her caravan. Wilder hadn’t found out anything important besides Clancy’s body still being below ground, but did that mean it was his? She thought again about how a rotted corpse could easily be replaced with another. Pushing the thought away, she focused on getting ready, hoping her nervousness would subside. Just as she finished styling her hair into a plaited bun at the nape of her neck, a knock sounded at the door.
Adjusting her skirt once more, she drew open the door to find Zephyr standing there with his lips tilted up to one side. His leather collar stood out against his bare chest, his dark wavy hair brushing his shoulders instead of pulled back. He looked like a devilish delicacy, luring her in as he held out a hand to her. A hand she hated to admit she wanted to let ground her at that moment.
“We go on soon. You look … you don’t want to know the words I’d use to describe how you look,” Zephyr purred.
Cricket’s blasted cheeks heated, and she took his hand, her own shaking as she stepped down the few steps. “I’m nervous.” She hadn’t planned on telling anyone, but it was quite obvious by how she trembled as they walked.
“Really? I wouldn’t have even known,” he lied, distracting her from her thoughts, and her lips tilted up a smidge. “If something happens, I know where your rose petals are this time.”
“As long as the locket opens, I’ll be fine.” She was now at ease enough to release his hand when they passed the other caravans to the main area of the carnival. The flags at the tops of the tents cracked against the wind. The tantalizing aromas of roasted meat and sugary pastries drifted around her, making her mouth salivate. Perhaps she would treat herself to a taste of them if she made it through the performance.
Patrons milled about, eating caramel apples, chocolate bananas, and popcorn. A cacophony of metal and bells filled the air as children tried their hands at the many games. A hammer struck a metal piece, followed by a shrill ding when the bell rang. Winner. Other guests paraded around in small groups, laughing and chatting while couples held one another close, pointing to their surroundings with their mouths open in awe. No one seemed frightened or worried that three similar murders had occurred in Nobel recently. Most likely because it was no one they were close to.
