But I never knew the princess existed until three weeks ago. I’d never heard of the Cartonian baby or the Frician duke. How could I have linked them? It doesn’t make sense.
There is the possibility, like Nicoleta said, that the killer is a charm-worker. There are at least a thousand of them in Gomorrah. But the similarity in the “phantom” body parts is too difficult to ignore.
The tent flaps open, and Unu and Du poke their heads inside. Their four eyes wildly scan the room, hopping from Nicoleta to me, to Luca, and then, lastly, to Venera on the floor. “W-what happened?” Unu asks.
“Outside, outside,” Nicoleta says. She lunges toward them, rests her hand on Unu’s shoulder and leads them away. It’s quiet except for the sound of them wailing.
“I’m so sorry, Sorina,” Luca says. He stands three feet away, the way someone would from a stranger. His face, as always, remains expressionless. I wish he would show emotion. I wish he would scream or cry or, at the very least, frown. To make itseemlike he cares about the world and about me.
Then he turns around and kicks the leg of our table so hard that coins and kettle corn spill off of it.
When he faces me again, I see the failure in his eyes. The anger. Moments ago, I didn’t want to be touched, but now I run to him and bury my face in his chest. I squeeze my nails into his shoulder.
“She was my best friend,” I choke out.
“I know,” he whispers. He rubs his hand down my hair.
“She’s gone.”
“I’m sorry,” he says.
I lift my gaze to his, suddenly determined. “We need to find out why.”
* * *
Villiam arrives as we all huddle outside around a fire, where Crown cooks lamb kebabs that no one is going to eat. Villiam wears a pin-striped suit and a brown turtleneck, as if dressed to meet someone important, and Agni appears wearing his pink-and-red-striped uniform from his job at the Menagerie. The people who live in the tents nearby watch Villiam as he passes and stray over to see the commotion.
My strength seems to return to me the moment I see him, but only in a single form: fury. Nicoleta and I underwent the entire trial of this morning to protect our family, and for what? I hop off my seat and march toward him. “Venera is dead,” I say. “Someone slit her throat.”
The people nearby inch closer until a small crowd is gathered to see the drama of Gomorrah’s freaky princess.
“That’s three deaths in a month,” I say, which gets people whispering. “What has he said?”Hemeaning Dalimil, of course.
“We know he is not the leader, as we’d hoped.”
“Then who is?” I snap.
“He won’t say.”
“My sister is dead.”
Villiam holds out his arms for me to embrace him, but I don’t. Not at first. I pound my fist against his chest, not hard enough to hurt but enough to make me feel better. Then I let him wrap his arms around me and hold me. I feel three years old again, exhausted and scared. It is awkward, him trying to support me while his crutches support him.
“I think I understand now,” I say. “I understand how this is happening.”
I search behind me for Luca, who nods. Villiam’s eyes fall on him, as well, and then narrow as Luca approaches.
“This is Luca von Raske,” I say. “He’s been helping me look into Gill’s and Blister’s deaths. I was going to tell you, but...it’s complicated.”
It’s dead quiet, except for the sizzling of Crown’s lamb and Agni telling the spectators to return to their caravans, though with little success.
“I know who he is,” Villiam says quietly. He and Luca perform a staring contest of sorts. “Sorina, I think we should talk.”
“I think so, too. We all should. I understand why—”
“No, just you and me.” He turns away, and I’m too stunned to reply. Luca gives my hand a comforting squeeze, but his face is rigid. Villiam raises his voice so anyone around us can listen. “Everyone in this neighborhood will be questioned tomorrow about what they saw, so I advise you all to think clearly about the faces that passed you today. One of them belonged to a murderer.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
