“She’d caught an older nestling, its plumage come in, and she was petting it. But she must have been too rough, because its feathers came off. She held it up for me to see, and I panicked, thinking for sure she’d ruined the poor thing. Well, she took one look at my face and burst into tears. The bird flew off, but it was still a baby, and it went careening down and crashed into the ground. Mariel didn’t see it. She was wrapped up in my arms, wailing like it was the end of her world, asking me over and over again if I hated her. I said no, of course not, and told her it was just an old bird, and she needn’t worry. But I was shaken. It was careless of her. She begged me not to tell Mama, so I didn’t.”

“And did the mother take the bird back?”

“The bird was dead. I don’t know if Mariel had accidentally killed it before it fell to the ground or if she’d crushed it when she rushed into my arms, but after I’d taken her inside and calmed her down, I went back out and found its little body. I buried it out by the fence. I never told her she’d killed it. It would have wrecked her.”

“I don’t see how her killing a bird proves her innocent.”

“How could a girl who cried over hurting a bird kill a man, much less a Virtue?”

“That was a long time ago, Celeste.”

“It doesn’t matter. People don’t change, not the fundamental part of them. Mariel’s a gentle soul. She didn’t do it.”

He stopped walking, and she was forced to stop with him. He studied her, gaze intense, not with the heat of seduction but with a careful kind of evaluation. Finally, he seemed to come to a decision.

“If you mean to confront the Virtues, you will need more than your Elect facade to pass through their careful watch. They will test you, no doubt.”

“I know how to defeat their holy water. Zeke taught me the trick of it.”

“Holy water will be the least of your worries.”

“What, then?”

“Something they have created from divinity stone, mechanics, and angelic enchantments that probably they don’t even understand, made from a remnant of the war not meant for human hands. Its subjugation is one of the few things demonkind truly fear.”

He drew forth a pendant on a golden chain from around his neck. It held a single chip of divinity enclosed in a locket, and the locket was elaborately engraved with the sigils of hell.

“What is this?”

“Protection from the compulsion of the gloria.”

“Gloria,” she repeated. She took the protective locket and slipped it around her neck.