The Alcazar

by Amy Ewing

  The two girls walked as fast as they could without attracting the attention of several orange mothers praying in the sanctum. Leela glanced at the doors, but the markings were inscrutable. She was certain her instincts had been right—the doors were meant for all to read, not just the High Priestess. It was a matter of showing the Cerulean not only the lies of the High Priestess but the powers they all should possess that had somehow, someway, been taken from them.

  They made their way to the dormitory, down the stairs, and over to Elorin’s bed, where a pile of robes sat. Elorin lifted the top one and Leela gasped.

  The High Priestess’s circlet gleamed up at her, the moonstone a creamy confection in its center.

  “How is this possible?” Leela said.

  “I do not know,” Elorin said. “It was just . . . here. But you said you felt it had answers. Maybe Mother Sun thinks it does too. Though I do not think we have much time. I will keep guard over the door to ensure no novice disturbs you for the next few minutes.”

  Leela nodded, then threw her arms around Elorin. Elorin gave her a squeeze and scurried out of the dormitory.

  For a moment, Leela simply stared at the circlet. She wasn’t quite sure what to do—the stone seemed so small, so innocuous. Her magic tingled in her veins as if waking up from a deep sleep. Every strand of her hair felt alight with anticipation. Cautiously, she reached out and picked it up.

  It was heavier than she had expected, and old, the sungold tarnished in certain places. There were tiny white stargems dotted along the winding strands of gold—she had never noticed them, had never been this close before. The moonstone was a perfect circle, and reminded her of the one in Sera’s necklace except maybe a bit smaller in circumference. She brushed her thumb across its surface, and suddenly, she knew what she must do.

  With careful, deliberate movements, Leela lifted the circlet and placed it on her head.

  The rush of images, of memory, overwhelmed her and made her neck snap back and her breath come out in one giant huff. She couldn’t make sense of them at first, colors and faces and voices that were all foreign to her. A low whisper that felt vaguely sexual. A high-pitched laugh. Eyes the color of fire. A young Cerulean hanging sheets on a branch to dry. The warmth of a green mother’s arms. And then pain, a pain unlike anything Leela had ever known. But it wasn’t physical pain—it was guilt. Sharp, twisting, jagged guilt that made her double over and clutch her chest.

  Stop, she thought. This is not what I want.

  But what did she want? She tried to think through the pain. The first thing that came to mind was Estelle, trapped in a stalactite.

  And the moonstone reacted. Leela felt a hard jerk in her stomach and then she was flying backward, but her feet stayed planted on the ground. Colors blurred her vision and it felt like traveling very fast through a narrow tunnel. For a moment she wondered if this was how Sera had felt when she had fallen.

  Then everything stopped abruptly and Leela found herself in a dim room, kneeling over a bed. Estelle was lying on it, her eyes closed, her face slack.

  “We must be careful not to take too many at once.” The voice came from beside her and Leela turned to see a slightly younger Acolyte Klymthe.

  “We will not need another,” Leela replied, but her voice was not her own—it was the voice of the High Priestess. Some part of her went rigid with shock, but the High Priestess continued smoothly. “Her magic is very strong. I sensed it the day she was born. She will be an excellent addition.”

  Acolyte Klymthe frowned. “The City must move at some point, Elysse. We cannot stay here forever.”

  Elysse, Leela thought. I never knew her name.

  “I know,” she snapped at the acolyte. “But I have told you before—the time has not come yet. This plan was put in place centuries before you were born, Klymthe. Do not presume to tell me when it will end.”

  Acolyte Klymthe looked down, ashamed. “Of course. I did not mean to doubt you.”

  Leela sighed and reached out a hand with long, slender fingers so unlike her own. Gently, she lifted the acolyte’s face. “I did not mean to snap,” she said. “Please forgive me. You know how this takes a toll on me. And you know how much I appreciate your boundless aid and support. I would never have been able to accomplish all I have done without you.”

  Acolyte Klymthe looked relieved. “That means so much to me.”

  Leela felt a warm smile spread across her face at the same time there was a pinch of irritation in her stomach. She wished she did not need Klymthe’s help, that she could do this all on her own. “I will find a place for her this evening,” she said, gazing down at the unconscious Cerulean. “Her magic will feed the tether and keep the City strong. Like all the rest of them. They are saving this City and I know they would agree with me if they were to know the truth.”

  “But you fear they would not understand?”

  “I know they would not. They were not there, Klymthe, nor were you. If you had seen it, the violence, the carnage . . .” Leela shuddered. “You would do as I have done, I am certain of it. All I have ever wanted is to protect this City. It is my one mission, my only purpose. It requires great sacrifice. But it must be done.”

  Acolyte Klymthe bowed.

  “Now,” Leela said, straightening. “Let us go and announce to the City that she has died.”

  The vision spun and swirled and Leela felt her stomach lurch and for a moment she thought she might be sick. Then everything righted itself and she was beneath the City, among the Sky Gardens. It seemed to Leela that they were not quite as withered as they were now—and the frosted vines were much heavier with fruit.

  She was kneeling on the cold ground, pushing at Estelle’s shoulders as her legs slid into an open stalactite. The young Cerulean’s eyes fluttered and for a second, Leela’s heart froze in her chest. But then she stilled and Leela exhaled and pushed the rest of her into the long cone of sunglass. It was filled with a viscous liquid that would help sustain her, suspending her in the sunglass. A fruit fell from the vines and she dropped it into the thick water. Then she passed one hand in a clockwise circle over the opening.

  “For devotion,” she said. She passed her other hand counterclockwise. “For wisdom.” Finally, she passed both hands in a long line down the center of the circle. “For love. May your blood protect this City and keep it safe and whole for all time.”

  Icy fingers spread across the circle like spiderwebs until the surface was completely covered and Estelle was a mere blur beneath it. Then Leela pressed a palm against it and markings appeared, writing Estelle’s name.

  “So I shall never forget,” she murmured. She gazed out over all the circles, each one etched with a name, each Cerulean donating the power of her blood to keeping the tether healthy, to keeping the City alive. She knew every one of them, their vibrancy, their magic. She was doing the right thing, she knew it deep in her bones. Her faith was being tested, but it had been tested before.

  Acolyte Klymthe’s words rang in her ears. The City must move at some point.

  Yes, Leela thought wearily as she got to her feet. But not for at least another generation. She had time enough yet.

  There was a sudden sucking feeling, as if Leela was being pulled up through a drain, and then she was standing in the novices’ dormitory in the friendly light of the afternoon and it was all so completely bewildering that she wasn’t entirely sure who or where she was.

  She snatched the circlet off her head and tossed it onto the bed. Her magic thrummed with knowledge, and though it scared her, it comforted her as well. She felt strong.

  She threw open the door and Elorin jumped at the sight of her.

  “What happened?” she asked. “You look as if you have seen a ghost.”

  “I . . .” Leela felt a shiver run through her chest. “I know what the High Priestess is doing with the Cerulean in the stalactites.”

  22

  LEELA GRABBED ELORIN’S HAND AND PULLED HER INSIDE the dormitory, shutting the door.<
br />
  “She is using their magic to keep the tether strong and healthy,” Leela said. “She is powering this City with the blood of its own people.” She rubbed at the spot on her head where the moonstone had sat. “The stalactites feed the tether, which feeds the cone of moonstone, which creates the fruit—it’s all connected, a cycle of stolen magic. And the more Cerulean she imprisons, the more magic there is to be stolen.”

  Elorin was shaking her head back and forth slowly, as if she could not believe it, but Leela could see in her eyes that she did. Elorin had been to the Sky Gardens, had seen the stalactites, and now the doors had spoken to her. Leela felt a sharp rush of gratitude that she did not have to bear this burden alone.

  “And the circlet told you this?” Elorin asked.

  “I don’t . . .” Leela was not sure where to begin or how to explain. So instead she held up a finger, glowing brighter blue than it ever had in her life. Elorin’s breath caught in her throat. They had never blood bonded before—indeed, Leela had only ever blood bonded with her mothers and Sera. But Elorin had earned this trust.

  Elorin’s face grew solemn as she held out her own finger. They touched and Leela felt the heat of Elorin’s magic fill her as she poured her own into the girl. Elorin’s magic was very much like Elorin, sweet and timid and kind—Leela’s own magic usually felt similar, especially when she had blood bonded with Sera. She had always felt Sera’s blood held the power of command. But now it was Leela’s magic that poured into Elorin with an unfamiliar, writhing strength. Both of them gasped as the memories began to appear.

  Instead of reading Elorin’s heart, Leela was showing her the memories from the circlet. As if they were contained inside her and she could hold them up for Elorin to look into, like a mirror that showed the past. It was so much easier than explaining, and also slightly terrifying. How was she able to do this? Was some part of the High Priestess trapped inside Leela as well? She did not much like that thought.

  The images—of Acolyte Klymthe, of Estelle, of the Sky Gardens and the stalactites and all the words the High Priestess uttered—replayed in Leela’s mind and projected themselves into Elorin’s. By the time the memory faded and the girls broke their connection, Elorin was breathing heavily, as if she’d just run the length of the City.

  “How did you do that?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” Leela said.

  Elorin stepped back and leaned against the dormitory wall. “I didn’t even know it was possible,” she said. “To keep the tether strong with the blood of Cerulean.”

  “I think there are many things she is doing we never thought possible,” Leela said.

  “Yes,” Elorin agreed. “The sleeping sickness is a lie, a way for her to steal Cerulean magic. So many have mourned for loved ones who never died. That is an unthinkable cruelty. And yet, the High Priestess seemed to believe all she did was for the good of the City. If she truly wished to help the City, she should have allowed it to move!” Her hands were balled into fists. “But the time has come for the City to move, hasn’t it? She chose Sera to be sacrificed.”

  “I know,” Leela said. “But she was not expecting it to go wrong. No wonder she has called for a wedding and a birthing season. The City must be distracted while she figures out what to do next.”

  “Why not just choose another Cerulean?”

  “And if that ceremony fails like Sera’s did?” Leela shook her head. “I do not think she can risk that. But I have a very bad feeling that something terrible is going to happen. And soon.”

  Elorin shuddered. “So do I,” she said. “Oh, Leela, what do we do?”

  Leela’s resolve hardened. “I saw how she put Estelle inside the stalactite. Maybe I can get her out.”

  Unfortunately, Leela was not able to get beneath the City for several days.

  Almost as if she knew something had shifted, that some danger to her schemes was lurking and drawing closer, the High Priestess announced there would be groups of novices saying devotionals at each of the three statues in the Moon Gardens at all times, day and night, for one week. They were to pray for the purple mothers still waiting to become pregnant in the birthing houses.

  Leela was dismayed when her first shift was assigned and it was with Novices Cresha, Baalin, Reeda, and Flesse. They were all older and none of them had ever been very friendly with her. So it did not surprise her that while they held candles and prayed around the statue of Aila, they spoke almost as if she was not there.

  “Never in all my years have I seen anything like this,” Novice Cresha muttered to Novice Reeda.

  “At least one other Cerulean should be pregnant by now,” Reeda said. “I’ve never heard of holding devotionals to encourage fertility. Mother Sun has blessed them. There should be no need for anything else.”

  “The High Priestess is only trying to help,” Novice Flesse said piously.

  “Yes, of course,” Cresha replied, but Leela could sense that there was no real conviction in her words. Her spirits lifted. It seemed the High Priestess could not erase the doubt spreading through the City for long.

  “It feels as if nothing has been the same since Sera Lighthaven failed to break the tether,” Baalin said. Leela’s fingernails pressed into the soft wax of her candle. She hated the way Baalin phrased it, as if it was Sera’s fault.

  “I wonder why there has not been another choosing ceremony,” Reeda said.

  “Well, there wouldn’t be until after the birthing season, would there?” Cresha said. “We cannot risk the City’s journey to find a new planet until the next generation of Cerulean is born.”

  “But that could be years,” Reeda said. “Surely if Mother Sun wished the City to move, she would not want it to be delayed for so long. Can the tether survive an entire birthing season?”

  “The tether has survived for nine hundred years,” Flesse reminded her. “What is a handful more?”

  “You are awfully quiet, Leela,” Novice Baalin said, turning to her.

  Leela started and tried to look meek. “I am not as old or as wise as you novices,” she said. “My only wish is for this City to be healthy and well.”

  That, at least, was not a lie. The other novices seemed placated and silence slipped around them, until their vigil was over and another group of novices came to relieve them.

  The days passed and still no other purple mother became pregnant, and the devotionals continued. It seemed to Leela as if she would never make it beneath the City again, and her worry became a constant gnawing in her stomach.

  “Be patient,” Elorin whispered to her one morning as they returned to the temple from the orchards, carrying baskets of pears and apples for the novices’ breakfasts. “A purple mother will become pregnant soon and this will all end. Then we can return and try to free Estelle.”

  Of course, that presented its own problem. If Leela could free Estelle, what should she do then? The High Priestess would certainly notice if one of her hostages was missing. And Leela would hate to think of forcing the woman to go back into the stalactite.

  But she supposed she was getting ahead of herself. She didn’t actually know if she could accomplish anything yet.

  They came upon Plenna as they were crossing Aila’s Bridge.

  “Good afternoon, Plenna,” Elorin said.

  Plenna had her hands folded across her stomach, though she was so newly pregnant there was nothing to show yet. She looked quite like the Plenna Leela had always known.

  “Good afternoon, Elorin. Leela.” Plenna smiled at them. “I was just speaking with the High Priestess. She is so gracious to take the time to reassure me.”

  “Reassure you?” Leela asked.

  “I have been hoping for another purple mother to become pregnant by now,” Plenna said. “It would be nice to have someone I can speak to, who is in my same situation. Especially since this is my first time. Jaycin told me not to be a bother but I could not help myself.” Plenna’s face took on a dreamy look. “It seems only yesterday that I was fallin
g in love with them. First Jaycin, then Heena. The joy of finding one person who draws you in, who excites you and challenges you. Then you become complete when you find the third part of your heart.” She rubbed her stomach. “And now we will become four. I cannot wait to meet my daughter.”

  “My green mother always told me she and my purple and orange mothers fell into each other all at once,” Elorin said. “That one day they were at the Estuary together and something simply clicked into place and they knew.”

  Plenna smiled indulgently. “I suppose falling in love is different for everyone.”

  Leela felt a deep, sudden sadness wash over her, taking her by surprise. The sort of life Plenna described was the life she used to imagine for herself. A triad, perhaps a daughter—Leela had no interest in bearing a child but used to imagine herself as a green mother. But all that felt far away, a distant dream that faded with each passing day. She mourned it even as she knew with all her heart that the life she was living now was more right for her than any other purpose she could have found in the City.

  “The High Priestess has assured me that a purple mother should become pregnant any day now,” Plenna was saying. “I do hope it is Kandra.”

  Leela tensed. “Why do you say that?”

  “She was so sad and withdrawn. She kept to her house, the very last one on the edge of the twelve, as if isolating herself. She did not take meals with the rest of us, or sing, or pray. She mostly sat in her doorway and sewed. I wish she would move into my house now that I am gone. She might be happier if she were in the center of things.”

  “Mm,” Leela murmured as Elorin said, “It is so good of you to think of her well-being.”

  “Well, we purple mothers must stick together. Just like you novices.” Plenna gave them a wink.

  “Indeed,” Leela said with forced cheer. But she knew that if Kandra became pregnant, it would not bring the joy Plenna hoped it would, only deep sorrow. Kandra had not believed Leela about Sera being alive, but what if Leela could free Estelle? Would that bring Kandra comfort?