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“Thank you, child. That will do.”
After telling Mistress Eliza that the other performers were being informed, Zephyr grasped Cricket by the hand and led her toward the horses.
“We can take one together. It’ll be faster,” he said as he untacked a chestnut mare from the stables.
The last time Cricket had ridden a horse was when she’d first awoken and had borrowed it to take back to Nobel over a month ago.
After placing the saddle on the mare, Zephyr easily lifted Cricket and settled her into it. With one swift motion, he mounted behind her, his strong body pressed to hers as he grasped the horse’s reins and brought them down. The mare jolted, then barreled forward. A small yelp escaped Cricket, and she gripped the horse’s mane, perhaps a bit too roughly, as the mare galloped at a pace faster than she’d ever ridden. Growing up, she and Anika had never had their own horses—they’d always walked everywhere. Bram was the one who’d taught them both how to ride.
It didn’t take long before they reached the heart of the city. Cricket knew Bram wouldn’t be at his manor and would most likely either be with the authorities or at the coroner’s.
Zephyr tugged on the reins, slowing the horse to a stop as they reached the authority building. He easily leapt to the gravel from the mare and grasped Cricket by the waist to help her down. She didn’t hesitate and rushed into the building with Zephyr close behind her.
Miles’s eyes widened when he noticed her, and he set aside the book he held. “Can I help you with something, Miss Cricket?” His voice was gentle as it had been each time she’d encountered him.
“Is Bram here? We need to speak to him,” she rushed out, looking around the room and finding only two other empty desks and sketches of the city with markings pinned to the walls.
“He came from the coroner’s earlier, then had to run another errand, but he should be back at any moment.”
Zephyr leaned against the desk, telling Miles about the note left for her when the door opened. Bram walked in, taking his hat from his head, his hair mussed. His gaze fell to hers, and he halted. “Cricket?”
She didn’t waste time and took the note from her satchel. “If you had any doubt that the same person was the murderer from last night, this is proof they are. They were in the woods near the cemetery wearing a bright yellow cloak. I followed them but only found this note.”
Bram’s lips pursed while scanning the message. “What the hell were you doing following someone into the woods alone?”
“I screamed for the others as I went inside, and I had a knife. I didn’t just tiptoe in there. I couldn’t waste time and let them slink away, even though they did just that.” She may not be an authority, but she wasn’t helpless.
Bram pinched the bridge of his nose.
“It’s fucking obvious the murderer is taunting her,” Zephyr growled. “What are you going to do about that?”
“What she needs is not to be left alone.” Bram frowned.
“I wasn’t alone. Anika and Breeta came for breakfast. They had just left when I saw the flash of yellow,” Cricket said.
“Anika?” He inhaled sharply, his lips pursing together even tighter. “A murderer is on the loose, and no one chooses to listen.”
Zephyr’s jaw hardened. “Cricket has received two letters now, and you’ve found nothing on the handwriting?”
“Three times,” Bram said, releasing a breath. “The coroner discovered one this morning, hidden in a secret pocket of the victim’s coat from last night. I was going to leave here and come straight to the carnival to tell you.”
Cricket swallowed the lump in her throat down. “What did it say?”
Bram took the letter from the front pocket of his coat and opened it for her to read. Cricket, it’s a pity you stabbed the wrong person.
Zephyr cursed under his breath as nausea bubbled up her throat.
“I’m going to question everyone at the carnival again,” Bram started. “Are you certain you want to stay there still?”
“I’ll make sure she has someone with her at all times. She’s safe with us at the carnival,” Zephyr said.
The murderer had known she was at the pub the night before… “I don’t think it matters where I go, but I’ll let Mistress Eliza decide,” Cricket murmured. “We’ll follow you there.”
Cricket and Zephyr mounted their horse with Bram and Miles following suit. When they arrived at the carnival, most of the performers were gathered around the fire, only a few eating. Juniper rushed toward Cricket, her red curls tangled from the breeze, while Zephyr returned the mare to the stables.
“You received another letter?” Juniper asked, her eyes wild with worry.
“Not only that one. Another was left as a vengeful little gift on the victim from last night, telling me it’s a pity I stabbed the wrong person,” Cricket said, anger now coursing through her instead of nausea.
