“No, it’s fine. Really. I understand my landlady’s reasoning, and she’s not wrong. Besides, it might be better for us to be somewhere else for a while.” She told him of the strangers who had come offering bribes for a glimpse into their lives.

His face darkened even more. “Let them try that here, and they’ll run up against a pill.”

“So we can stay?”

And now his anger turned to concern. “I’d say yes in a minute, you know I would. But Hypatia owns the barn. You’ll have to ask her.”

Of course. Celeste had forgotten all about that. “No,” she said flatly.

“I’m sure she’ll say yes.”

“No, she won’t.”

Zeke eyed her suspiciously. “Did you two have a falling-out?”

“Something like that.” Celeste sighed, her hopes of an easy solution dashed. “Never mind, then, Zeke. I’ll find somewhere else.”

“A hotel perhaps?”

“With what money?” She had a little saved but couldn’t imagine any hotel in Goetia allowing Mariel in, so obviously Fallen and recently accused of murder.

Zeke rubbed at his ear, thinking. “There are families in the Drench that take on boarders sometimes for trade or whatnot,” he said. “Perhaps you can look there.”

“I’ll try it,” Celeste said brightly, not meaning it but saying it for his sake.

“Or you could just talk to Hypatia,” he offered, sheepish.

She shook her head. “She’ll want me to apologize.”

His big eyes got bigger. “What’d you do?”

“It’s between her and me,” she said, stubborn. “She knows.”

“You’re gonna have to talk to her sometime,” he said, “once the Eden reopens.”

“And I will. Then. But not now. Now I’ve got to save Mariel.”

CHAPTER 11

Celeste’s first stop after leaving Zeke was the Howler. She wanted to congratulate Grace on a successful front page and let her know that the Virtues had threatened the residents of the boardinghouse. Not directly, maybe, but if something were to happen, she wanted Grace to know. The two women were not quite friends, but Grace had believed her and had in a way become her partner in Mariel’s defense. The Howler had been game to print her news despite knowing it might put them at odds with the Virtues.

“I’ll risk it,” Grace had assured her yesterday. “There is freedom of the press in Goetia, last I checked, and I dare the Virtues to say otherwise. Besides, the readers will love your story.”

Celeste now approached the offices of the Howler, hopeful. There was a sign hanging from the door that warned that all copies of the daily were sold out, and she took that as a good sign, but when she opened the door, she found only the editor, a man named Song whom Grace had introduced her to briefly the day before, bent over the typesetter.