“Your mother could heal animals,” said Hezekiah. “That’s what killed her. A neighbor with an old quarrel waited too long, called her too late, and his mule died, so he said that by the power of Satan she cursed the animals of all those who didn’t please her.”

“And my father?”

“He could draw a straight line.”

The words hung there for a moment.

“That’s all?” asked Alvin.

“On paper. In the soil. Truer than a surveyor. His fences were the marvel of the neighborhood. He won the plowing prize every year at the parish fair. No one could cut so straight a furrow. His wife always made him cut the fabric when she was sewing. People remembered his knack when his wife was on trial, and he admitted it readily, seeing no harm in it, since it neither harmed others nor gave him any advantage. Except at the fair.”

Purity could hardly talk for weeping. “That’s why they died?”

“They died for envy,” said Hezekiah, “and for the bloodlust of the witcher, and for the incompetence and arrogance, the pride of their attorney who called himself their friend but dared to put their lives at risk in a larger cause. I could have won them a banishment. They were well-liked and the trial was unpopular. The witcher was willing to dicker. But I had a cause.” He gripped Purity’s hands. “I can’t let this man do the same to you! I’ve spent my life trying to keep you from the same fate, because they marked you, don’t think they haven’t. Quill knows who you are. Because of you, they couldn’t hang your mother until you were born, and the outrage built and built among the people. There was a strong sentiment to break them out of jail. But the witchers called in the authorities and they guarded the hangings. And then they sent you away, so as not to remind the people of the outrage that had been done against you. To this day, God help the witcher who comes through that part of Netticut, because the people know the truth there.”

“Then it was a victory of sorts,” said Purity quietly. “They didn’t die for nothing.”

“They died,” said Hezekiah. “Their accusers were ostracized until they moved away, but they’re still alive, aren’t they? The witchers lost a lot of prestige, but they’re still in the witch business, aren’t they? That feels like dying for nothing to me.”

“It’s a different trial,” said Verily. “And a different judge.”

“He’s an honorable man, bound by law,” said Hezekiah. “Don’t think he isn’t.”

“Honorable men aren’t bound by bad laws,” said Verily.

Alvin laughed, a little nastily. “If that’s so, how you going to tell the honorable ones from the dishonorable? Who’s bound by law at all, since every law is bad at one time or another?”

“Whose side are you on?” Verily asked testily.

“I’m supposed to build a city,” said Alvin. “And if I don’t build it on law, what am I going to build it on? Even Napoleon makes laws that bind him, because if you don’t then there’s no order, it’s chaos all the way down.”