by Amy Ewing
When at last the High Priestess declared the day of prayer and meditation over, the congregation rose and whispers filled the room alongside utterings of fear. Leela saw Koreen being comforted by Daina and Atana—she wanted to say something reassuring to her old friends, but the words stuck in her throat. This City had reached a breaking point—Leela could not allow another Cerulean to be imprisoned beneath it.
A leap of faith, the will-o-the-wisp had said. There was only one leap Leela could make and the thought sent waves of terror rippling down her spine.
Sera survived, she reminded herself. But the thought did not comfort her.
“What happened last night?” Elorin appeared at Leela’s elbow, her voice barely a whisper. Leela glanced around and beckoned for her to follow. They went deep into the Moon Gardens where no one would hear them and Leela told her everything.
“But . . . are you saying . . . did she just siphon our magic?” She looked down at her hands as if expecting to see magic leaking out of them.
“I believe so,” Leela said gravely. “But she must not take enough to be noticed. We still have healing power. We can still blood bond.”
“But we should be able to do more than that,” Elorin said. “I can read the doors now, and Kandra saw Sera’s name on the obelisk.” She frowned. “But neither of us have eaten the fruit. So how were we able to?”
“Perhaps it is because you two know about the lies,” Leela said. “There is a strength of will in our minds and hearts, not just in our magic. Your eyes are opened. So you are seeing things you never imagined possible.”
Elorin nodded solemnly, but Leela was not finished. She took a deep breath and told Elorin about the dream.
By the end of the tale, Elorin’s mouth was hanging open. “Leela,” she whispered. “That was Moth—”
“Now we know where all the moonstone has gone,” Leela said quickly, because admitting she’d spoken with Mother Sun still felt altogether too overwhelming. “The High Priestess may have bent her circlet to her will, but now I have moonstone too.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out the cuff. Elorin marveled at it.
“I can feel the life inside it,” Leela said. “The lives of the other Cerulean who have worn it. It will protect me when I—” She swallowed hard. “When I fall.”
For a moment, Elorin just stared at her. Leela thought she would cry or beg or protest, but when she did at last respond, her voice was steady.
“You are going down onto the planet.”
Leela nodded.
“Are you going to jump off the dais, like Sera did?”
Leela was so relieved she did not have to explain herself. “No,” she said. “That way is not for me.”
She remembered the flash of the tether from her dream. The Sky Gardens were where answers waited for her. It was through the pool that she must go.
“The High Priestess could not destroy the moonstone, so she hid it, in a secret cache,” Leela said. “The fountain is there, and other moonstone as well, jewelry and figurines and all sorts of things. It is all beneath the spire of the temple—there is a hinge at its base. When you think it is safe, go and get a piece for yourself.”
“All right,” Elorin said, though she looked pale as she gazed up at the impressive height of the temple. “When are you going to the planet?”
Leela slipped the cuff on her wrist, the welcoming sensation rippling once again up her arm. “Now,” she said.
Then she held Elorin tight, feeling the girl’s weight and warmth, trying to memorize it in case she never came back. She was too frightened to say goodbye, so she released her and fled through the gardens, the statue of Faesa springing aside before she even reached it, as if it knew, as if it sensed this night was not like other nights.
Down the stairs she ran, and through the paths and past the pools until she came to the tether. It was singing for her tonight as it had once before, the cone of moonstone’s beating red heart aflame with hope, and the song echoed in her veins and gave her courage. She stopped at the water’s edge and stared down at the planet.
A leap of faith, she thought.
Then a voice said, “Good evening, Leela. I was wondering who I might find here.”
From the other side of the pool, the High Priestess emerged. Her face was drawn and terrible. The circlet glowed a sickly green. Leela put her hands behind her back to hide her bracelet.
“I felt a change in my moonstone,” the High Priestess said. “As if another had worn my circlet. But I could not sense who.” She cocked her head. “Impressive, if I’m to be honest, that your magic was able to elude me.”
But Leela had no use for the High Priestess’s praise.
“What you are doing to this City is wrong,” she said.
The High Priestess’s smile was a sharp, jagged thing. “What do you know about right and wrong?” she said. “You have lived such a sheltered life. I have made it that way. It is because of me that this City survives. You could not begin to comprehend the sacrifices I have made to keep it strong and healthy, to keep it protected from the hungry darkness of space and the cruel dangers of the planets.”
“This City is meant to move,” Leela insisted. “And Cerulean are meant to go down onto the planets. It is just as Sera always thought. Is that why you chose her? To silence her?”
“I chose her because her magic was the strongest I have sensed in a century,” the High Priestess said. Then she sniffed the air. “But yours is strong as well. In a different way, a way that I have not seen in even longer. You remind me of Wyllin.”
“I’m not Wyllin,” Leela said. “If she even was your friend, as you claim. You cannot keep stealing Cerulean magic.” She glanced around at the icy circles beneath her and with a start realized a new circle had been added. One whose markings on its surface read Plenna. The High Priestess followed her gaze.
“It had to be done,” she said, and for a moment she almost sounded sad. “Her magic is so much stronger because of the pregnancy. I needed it. The City needs it.”
Leela glowered, her stomach twisting with disgust. “I won’t let you imprison anyone else ever again. We deserve to be free.”
“Freedom comes at a price, Leela, and a far higher one than I’m certain you are willing to pay.” The High Priestess’s voice grew silky. “If you come back to the temple with me, I can tell you all. Secrets of your magic that would open your mind and make you melt with joy. I can show you power that will stun you, power that will thrill and entice. It’s wonderful, Leela. Like nothing you have ever felt or will ever feel again.” Her eyes glowed with enticement. “I will let you return to your mothers and your dwelling if you wish. Or”—her voice turned as cold as the columns around them—“you may become another victim of the sleeping sickness. Tragic in one so young, but Plenna is young too. Young magic is always strongest.” She swept a hand out at the circles dotting the ground. “So that is your choice, Leela. It is up for you to decide which path you will take.”
Leela dared not look down lest she lose her nerve. “I know what path I will take,” she said. “And it is not one you have offered me.”
The High Priestess seemed amused. “And what other path is there?”
The moonstone began to pulse gently against her skin, as if it was saying, go, go, go. Leela steeled herself and looked the High Priestess right in the eye.
“I am going to bring Sera home,” she said.
And then she jumped.
Part Five
The Island of Culinnon, Pelago
and
the Island of Braxos, Pelago
25
Sera
MERTAGS SWARMED THE WATERS AROUND THE GALLEON as the island of Culinnon drew near.
Sera watched as its coastline took form, trees painting its shore like jewels, shimmering in rich colors, richer than Sera had yet seen on this planet. Exquisite blue-green leaves and silvery-white bark that glowed like moonlight.
“They’re Arboreals,” she gasped.
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sp; There must have been hundreds of them. Sera felt tears well in her eyes. She had only ever known Boris, but now she found herself staring at a whole forest full of Arboreals.
“So many,” Leo murmured, and his voice sent a sudden prickle up her spine. “This must have been where my father stole Boris from. Errol too.”
“Ambrosine was livid when she found out,” Bellamy said. “She blamed Hektor, for not protecting them better. She always blames Hektor when something goes wrong.”
There was a flash of movement on the water and Sera saw a ship, painted in the shifting colors of the sea, sailing past them. Then she saw another just beyond it, and another.
“She calls them clandestines,” Bellamy explained. “Ships that blend in with the ocean. Makes them harder to detect until they’re right on top of you. They’ve been sinking any ship that dares to come north. That’s why the waters have been so empty.”
The memory sharing seemed to have stripped Bellamy of her fear, no longer scared to talk to them but eager. Sera felt a flutter in her chest and a clenching in her stomach, the scene of Hektor proposing to Bellamy still fresh in her mind, the embrace and the kisses that awoke a discovery in Sera herself, one that was swimming bright inside her.
She glanced at Leo, but he was staring at the Arboreals with razor-sharp focus, almost as if he was determined not to look at her. She bit her lip and tried to push the feelings down.
“We’re here!” Ambrosine declared as she strode up to them. “Bellamy, go put on something decent. And get Mckenna to run a comb through your hair. Honestly,” she said, rolling her eyes as Bellamy scurried away.
Sera had to grit her teeth to keep quiet.
“How marvelous are my treasures?” Ambrosine said, sweeping her arms out. “My family’s most prized possessions.”
Mertags and Arboreals were thoughtful, intelligent creatures, Sera thought, not possessions.
“They’re remarkable,” Leo said.
“My mertags will destroy any ship that comes within a mile of Culinnon’s shore,” Ambrosine bragged. “Unless it carries a familiar face or flies my banners. They’re devilishly smart, you know. Very easy to train.”
The galleon sailed around to a large inlet where an enormous mansion was perched at the crest of a hill, a long dock stretching out into the water like a silver tooth. The mansion was made mostly of glass and it sprawled across the grounds, disappearing into the forests surrounding it.
A man was standing on the dock, and as the galleon pulled up, Sera recognized him from Bellamy’s memory—Hektor.
The gangplank was lowered and Ambrosine led the descent onto land. Sera was glad to have her feet on solid ground again. The air was cold and crisp, scented with heather and dogwood. The path up to the mansion was lit with lanterns, like golden will-o-the-wisps marking a trail to the door.
“Mother,” Hektor said, bowing to her formally. He eyed Leo first, then Sera, but whatever thoughts he had about them remained hidden in his dark blue eyes.
“Hektor,” Ambrosine replied. “May I introduce your nephew, Leo McLellan. And his friend Sera Lighthaven.”
“Welcome to Culinnon,” Hektor said. There was no warmth in his tone and Sera felt Bellamy squirm beside her, ready to embrace her husband as she had in the memory. The thought made Sera’s fingers itch and tugged her eyes in Leo’s direction.
“I must see to a few matters,” Ambrosine said.
“We received a dove from Ithilia,” Hektor said. “I have sent out scouts to track the movements of the Renalt. She won’t be hard to find with all those warships.”
“Good,” Ambrosine said. “Mckenna, show Leo and Sera to their rooms. The western sequoia should do.” Without another word, she strode off down the dock, taking a different path than the one that led to the main entrance.
As soon as she was out of sight, Bellamy flew into Hektor’s arms.
“I missed you,” Sera heard him whisper in her ear.
“Come,” Mckenna said.
Hektor briefly pulled away from his wife. “You look just like her,” he said to Leo.
“I know,” Leo replied, his shoulders hunched.
Hektor’s mouth twisted. “So this is Mother’s salvation for the family?”
Sera didn’t know what he was talking about, but Bellamy shushed him. “Leo has been very kind to me,” she said. “Sera too. Let them be.”
Hektor turned back to her, and Sera and Leo followed Mckenna up the path to the mansion.
The foyer was huge, encased in glass with a thick growth of purple and blue hydrangeas climbing up the outside of one wall. There was a long, low firepit in the center, and the furniture was in strange shapes, armchairs that looked like eggs and couches with peaked backs. Everything was colored in browns and olive greens and watery blues. Without pausing, Mckenna marched straight across and through another door that led to a glass hall, then up a set of stairs, then down a hall that had a boulder for a wall, water flowing over its smooth gray surface in a thin sheet.
The farther they traveled, the less the layout made sense—it was as wild and unpredictable as nature, built around several towering sequoias. And there were no discernible floors except the ground one—staircases appeared as if from nowhere and sometimes when Sera looked up she saw four or five floors above her, where other times there was only one. Occasionally they would walk inside a tree, brightly lit corridors of cedar-colored wood.
Finally, they reached a sequoia with a spiral staircase winding straight up through the center of its trunk. Halfway up, Mckenna stopped.
“This is your room,” she said to Leo, opening the door to reveal a glimpse of glass walls and cozy yet modern furnishings.
“I—” Leo looked at Sera as if reluctant to let her go. Her heart stuttered and she felt off balance.
“She will only be one room above you,” Mckenna said. “You are safe on Culinnon. If you’d like, I can show you the Arboreal groves once you’ve changed.”
She directed this only at Leo and Sera felt a flash of irritation, similar to how she’d felt when she’d spent time with Rahel. She hadn’t understood it then but she did now—jealousy. She didn’t much care for the emotion. It was prickly and mean and made her feel not at all herself.
“Sure,” Leo said, and then Mckenna was leading Sera away from him, up one more spiral to her new room.
“Do let me know if there is anything you need,” the servant girl said. Then she bowed her head and descended back down the stairs.
Sera’s room was nestled in the crook of the great tree—the walls were glass that formed a little dome with branches crawling up around them. A fireplace was built into the trunk, a small fire burning in its hearth. Her bed was laid with a comforter as red-gold as a sunset and there was a table made of polished river stones with two chairs on either side of it. A pitcher of water and a basin for her to wash with sat beside an armoire, and she scrubbed her face and then wiped it off with a soft, scented towel.
At last, Sera sank onto the edge of her bed and allowed the feelings she had so ardently refused to acknowledge to swell up around her. When she’d felt the shudderings and shiverings of desire that fluttered inside Bellamy during the memory share, she’d recognized them in herself, in a way she had not expected but now could not unsee or unfeel.
All the wriggles in her tummy when Leo said certain things, all the lurches in her heart or the weightlessness that would grip her . . . it had all sharpened so clearly to one solid point. Desire. She wanted Leo.
She was so unfamiliar with the rules and signs. She had only ever been attracted to James Roth, the handsome performer from Old Port City. She’d assumed that was how attraction worked, an instant thing that was known straightaway. She had certainly not felt any desire toward Leo when they first met. But she knew him now, had seen him change, and grown closer to him. So it appeared attraction could develop over time. She’d never imagined wanting someone else on this planet. She had been so focused on getting home, on going back to her City.
In the span of one memory, Sera’s whole world had shifted. Because this was no infatuation like with James; she knew it in her bones, in her soul, in everything that made her her. This was something much stronger and far scarier. Tentatively, she allowed her mind to imagine what it might be like, to touch Leo, to press her lips to his, to feel his arms around her, and not just in a friendly embrace. A knot of want clenched in her stomach so intensely it made her body jerk and her toes tingle, yet there was a distinct sense of panic there as well. She felt crushed beneath the weight of the silence in this room with nothing but the thought of Leo surrounding her.
She sat and let her mind replay so many memories, so many days that now meant something different from what they had before. How had she missed it? Now that she knew, it seemed so obvious.
Then a new thought seized her—what if Leo did not feel the same way? She wasn’t human, after all. Why would he be attracted to someone like her? Perhaps he saw her only as a friend. The concept was a twisting ache in her chest.
“You should not be worrying about this,” Sera said aloud to herself. “You are supposed to be focused on going home.”
What did it matter if Leo liked her or not—her City was where she belonged. But she found she could not stop wanting him. Desire overrode logic, it would seem. How frustrating. But wonderful. Yet scary. She wished there were someone she could talk to about this. A Cerulean, not a human, someone who knew her world and could help her understand on her own terms. She wondered again, as she had done when she finally spoke to Leela in the Sky Gardens, if there were others in her City like her, if she was not so wholly alone in this. But even if there were other Cerulean who were attracted to males, they were far away and could not help her here.
What advice would her purple mother give, she wondered. Surely attraction followed the same principles, regardless of the object.
Sera closed her eyes and imagined her mother’s voice in her head.