She folded her owns hands at her waist so that he would not see that they were shaking. “Now. Please.”

His gaze swung between them before he finally turned on his heel and walked back to the lift. She watched as he went beyond the circle of light from the wall sconce, his lamp bobbing off into the darkness like a firefly cast from the swarm. Mariel made a sound as if to speak, but Celeste held a finger to her lips, begging silence. The metal clank of the elevator door echoed down the old mining shaft, and then came the whirl of the machinery, and she knew they were alone.

Celeste fell to her knees before the cell, pressing her hands against the bars again. Mariel mirrored her, and for a moment they sat in silence together.

“We haven’t much time,” Celeste said, breaking the spell of grief. “He’ll be back soon enough. Tell me what happened.”

“Get me out,” Mariel repeated. “It’s cold and dark, and there’s something down here in one of the cells that doesn’t want me here.”

“I will, but I need to know what happened.”

Mariel released her sister’s hands and sat back, legs drawn up, arms around her knees. Her face was closed, and for a moment, it was as if Celeste was looking at a stranger.

“Mariel,” she said softly. “Tell me.”

Mariel seemed to gather herself, and finally, she spoke. “I had finished singing, you know the one.” She cleared her throat and sang: “No wedding feast was spread that night, two graves were made next day… one for the little baby, and in one the father lay…”

Celeste nodded. It was a dreary tune, but Mariel loved it, and her pure soprano soared, even in this awful place.

“Hypatia told me I was done for the night, so I went to the back room to rest.”

“Zeke said you weren’t feeling well.”

Her eyes cut away for a moment. “That’s right. So I lay down to sleep, and when I awoke, there was a dead man next to me.” She ran an unsteady hand across her face. “Oh, Celeste, there was blood everywhere. More blood than I’d ever seen. More blood than I thought a man could hold! And I was covered in it.” She spread her dark-stained dress wide. “I still am,” she whispered.

“But who was he? How did he get there?”

Mariel shook her head.

“You slept through it all?”

She dug a finger through a rip in the fabric of her skirt. “I may have had a nip of the laudanum Hypatia keeps for sore throats.”

Celeste bowed her head. “You were intoxicated.”

“I was asleep,” her sister protested. “And don’t start your moralizing with me. It was one time.”

“All right.” Celeste doubted it was one time, but there was no use arguing it now. “Can you remember anything else?”