The chamber was not large, but it was filled to capacity, and for an instant, the heat of so many bodies knocked Celeste back a step. The room was shaped in a semicircle. Directly before her was a judge upon a dais, and facing him were two tables with accompanying chairs. Everywhere else were Virtues, so many that the room seemed filled with phantoms. Above the main chamber ran a balcony where a handful of Elect citizens, who had a stake in the proceedings or were otherwise invited to attend, sat. The only one she recognized was Mrs. Alameda. The woman sensed Celeste’s gaze and began to turn toward her, but Celeste quickly looked away.

Beside her, Mariel made a sound of dismay. Her hand found Celeste’s, and she held on tight. They walked to the empty table, hand in hand.

Across from them was the accusator. He was a tall man in a black waistcoat and jacket, his dark hair oiled and curling around his ears. He glanced briefly at Celeste and then dismissed her with a contemptuous sniff.

Once they were seated, the judge called the trial to order.

“I understand there has been an unexpected development,” he began, his voice carrying effortlessly through the room. Celeste noticed he spoke into a mechanical amplifier. “Another suspect has been discovered by the advocatus.” He gestured, and from a door in the side of the room, two Virtues brought forth Lilitha.

She dragged between them, limp and almost lifeless, and they pressed her into a chair in the middle of the room. Her eyes roamed the room as if looking for something, and Celeste realized she must be searching for Abraxas. It was disquieting, and Celeste found herself looking away.

She glanced over at Mariel. Her sister was silent, but her eyes were huge and fixed on Lilitha.

“Bring forth the gloria,” the judge ordered.

The Virtue acting as a bailiff brought a small velvet-covered box over and set it before Celeste. Ibrahim had warned her that she would be required to wear one at the trial, and she was ready. It was meant to compel its wearer to speak the truth, or at least what they believed to be the truth, and uttering a lie would sear the tongue, burning it to ash within the speaker’s mouth.

She touched her hand to the hidden pendant Abraxas had given her before she had first come to the courthouse, the one that allowed her to deny the edict of the gloria. He had not asked for it back, even knowing what she planned to do.

She opened the box and took the golden mechanical cicada in hand. It vibrated against her palm.

“What is it?” Mariel whispered, sounding horrified.

“An invention of the Virtues. It forces you to tell the truth.”

“And you mean to wear it?”

“I must.”

“And if you lie?”

A trickle of fear shivered down her back. “It will maim me.”

“Celeste…”