“High noon of the third day. So that gives you a little less than forty-eight hours to gather your thoughts.”

“But if I am to interview witnesses, gather evidence, surely that is not enough time.”

“What evidence is there to gather when the Circle asks you only to speak from your heart?”

“Of course. But—”

“That is the nature of the appointment, Miss Semyaza. If you do not think yourself up to the task, it is not too late for me to assign it to one of my brethren.”

“No.” She made herself take a deep breath and resettle. “I will do it.”

The doctor produced an iron key and opened the cell. For a moment, there was nothing between the sisters, and Celeste took a step forward. Then the Virtue holding the jug moved between them, his body blocking the way, and the moment passed.

“I’ll see you out now, Miss Semyaza,” Ibrahim said. “I’m sure you have plenty of work to do and, as you know, little time in which to do it.”

CHAPTER 9

She had stayed longer in the courthouse and its underground jail than she realized, and by the time she reemerged, afternoon sunlight streaked the lobby floor. The crowd of lawmen and reporters had finished their day’s work and retired elsewhere for supper or other entertainments. Only a handful of clerks remained, walking to and from their offices, talking to each other in hushed tones, as if they were in a cathedral and law was holy work. Golden Taborites trailed the clerks like obedient children, their mechanical arms piled with boxes and folders and the business of meting out man’s justice.

Now that she was advocatus, she wanted to return to the Eden to see the scene of the crime for herself, no matter how gruesome. She believed there were clues to be found there that would help Mariel’s cause. No matter how Ibrahim insisted the Circle wished only to hear of the purity of Mariel’s soul, she knew evidence of her sister’s innocence would be the only thing to save her.

But first, Celeste had someone else to call upon.

Miss Grace Walter was in the act of closing the Howler’s office for the day, but Celeste convinced her to stay longer so they could talk. Soon Grace was listening, enthralled by what Celeste had to say. When she concluded her tale, Grace clapped her hands in delight.

“Can you print it?” Celeste asked, worried that she might find her story lacking.

“Can I?” Grace grinned. “Will the front page do?”

They promised to speak again should Celeste have any other headline news, and the two parted ways just as the sun slipped behind the mountains. Up on the slopes, Celeste could see the divinity lights of the mines shining against black peaks.