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“Bats,” he mumbled. “Those wounds are characteristic of a type of bat rumored to infest this castle.”
Percy clapped once, the sound jolting us all in our seats. “Excellent, Prince Nicolae! Notice the spaces between the teeth marks. These indicate rather large specimens, too. I imagine they must have fed on her for quite some time, though she likely lost consciousness at some point.”
I swallowed hard, stomach churning with the image. If I didn’t keep my emotions locked away tightly, I’d break apart piece by piece. I focused on breathing. If I thought about my friend, how vibrant she was in life, I’d be of no use to her in death. Still, even with having had some practice in controlling my feelings, bits of my heart shattered. I was through with loss. So very tired of constantly saying good-bye to those I wished to adventure with through life. I swiped at the wetness on my cheeks and sniffled.
Erik and Cian cursed. I knew they weren’t capable of being the Impaler or working with Ileana. There was kindness and compassion fusing their cells together. I’d watched Erik help Nicolae when he’d tossed him an apron, willing to help someone out when they needed a friend.
But the prince and his obsession with bats, well, that seemed too much of a coincidence to ignore.
“All right,” Percy said, “who would like to make the next incision?”
Cian and Noah eyed each other and slowly raised their hands. I admired their ability to push beyond the horror, but I couldn’t bring myself to use my blade on my friend’s body. I didn’t care if it cost me my place in the academy; even thinking of the stupid competition felt horribly cold, though I knew Anastasia would chide me for feeling defeated. She’d expect me to push forward.
With that thought fortifying me, I sat straight as an arrow in the first row of Percy’s surgical theater, knowing there was absolutely nothing I could offer Anastasia, aside from my will to avenge her death. Thomas leaned forward in his seat but did not raise his hand.
“Mr. Hale,” Percy said. “Please come take your place.”
Noah adjusted his apron and took the scalpel from Percy, doing a fine job of rinsing it with carbolic acid before placing it against unmoving flesh. Uncle would have been proud. I forced myself to watch the Y incision he made on Anastasia’s lifeless chest. I kept my breathing steady, not allowing my pulse to spike. We needed to find out for certain if the bats were truly her cause of death, or if something more sinister had ended her life first.
My gaze trailed down to her hands. There weren’t many defensive wounds. I found it hard to believe someone as feisty as Anastasia would simply lie back and give in to Death without battling it with everything she had. She fought to be treated equally, fought to prove her worth to her uncle. A fighter like her wouldn’t give up during the ultimate battle. The thought bolstered my own spirits, encouraging me to carry on.
“Note the way in which Mr. Hale is separating the ribs. Very clean cuts.”
Professor Percy handed our classmate the rib cutters and took the scalpel again. I cringed a bit at the exposed viscera but reminded myself this was no longer Anastasia—this was a victim who needed us. A slight garlic scent wafted through the theater as Percy paced around the operating floor. I narrowed my eyes. Before I could call out my question, Noah pried the jaws open. Nothing unusual was there. Thomas chanced a look in my direction, his expression hard to read.
Noah moved down the cadaver, inspecting the abdominal cavity. He drew close enough to smell the organs and stifled a small gag. “A garlic odor is present in body tissues and mouth, sir, though there are no signs of the substance on her. Inspecting the contents of her stomach might reveal more.”
Percy stopped pacing and bent to examine the body himself. He inhaled in small intervals as he moved from the mouth to the stomach. He shook his head and addressed the class.
“In the case of ingesting toxic substances, you’ll note a stronger scent in stomach tissues. Which is precisely what I’ve noticed here. The garlic odor is overwhelming near the victim’s stomach. Does anyone know any other signs associated with intentional or accidental poisoning?”
Vincenzo raised his hand so violently he nearly knocked himself over the railing. His brother latched on to his arm, steadying him.
“Yes, Mr. Bianchi?”
“More… er… mucus will be evident,” he said, Italian accent strong as he searched for the English words. “As the body’s natural defense against… a… foreign attack.”
“Excellent,” Percy said, gathering up toothed
forceps and passing them to Noah. “Where else might one find indications of poison?”
Cian cleared his throat. “The liver is another good place to check.”
“Indeed.” Percy motioned for Noah to remove the organ in question and handed him a specimen tray. I knew what it felt like, sticking one’s hands deep within the abdominal cavity and coming away with a liver that squished ever so slightly between one’s fingers. The weight of it was difficult to manage with only forceps. Noah showed no emotion, though his hands weren’t as controlled. The liver slid onto the tray, smearing it with rusty liquid. I swallowed revulsion down.
Percy held the tray up, then walked slowly down the line of students, allowing each of us an opportunity to inspect the organ from our first-row seats. “Note the color. Yellow is commonly found after exposure to…”
My heart sped up with my thoughts. “Arsenic.”
Percy beamed, tray of liver proudly displayed before him as if he were serving us tea in fine china. “Very good, Miss Wadsworth! Both the garlic odor and presence of yellow liver tissues are indicative of potential arsenic poisoning. Now, before anyone jumps to conclusions, it would behoove you to note the following: arsenic is found in most everyday items. Our drinking water contains trace amounts. Ladies used to mix it with their powders to remain youthful in appearance.”
I gripped my hands together, mind churning with this new information as I thought back to the first victim we’d encountered in Romania—the man on the train. His mouth had been stuffed with garlic, but the smell was too overwhelming to have resulted from such a small amount of the organic substance. I should have investigated that further. The murderer clearly used real garlic to mask the telltale scent of arsenic.
I focused on breathing correctly. Inhale. Exhale. The steady flow of oxygen fed my brain. I thought of Wilhelm’s symptoms. How quickly he’d gone from a healthy seventeen-year-old to a cadaver lying beneath my blade in the laboratory. Highly unnatural.
No cause of death had been noted in Wilhelm’s case. The missing blood served as a distraction. And it was a good one, too. I’d been so preoccupied by the thought of scientifically proving vampires impossible, I’d never checked his liver. Percy, too, had let the obvious drag his attention away from inspecting other organs.
I thought of other symptoms of arsenic poisoning. Discoloration or rashes on the skin. Vomiting. It had all been there, present and waiting for someone to add up the symptoms. A simple math equation, nothing more.
