The Cerulean (Untitled Duology, #1)(106)

Sera. The tether. Moonstone. These stairs. Estelle. Kandra had said that these things were all related somehow. Leela repeated them over and over, as if the connection might suddenly become clear. But she was still puzzling when dawn’s light crept in through her window and the singing faded away. The novices would be sleeping tonight, the temple silent. It was her best chance. She could not afford to wait any longer anyway.

Sera. The tether. Moonstone. These stairs. Estelle.

Sera. The tether. Moonstone . . .

She sat up in bed, her heart pounding. Moonstone was clearly magical, though no one could seem to agree on what exactly its magic was. And no one besides Leela knew that Sera had carried a piece of it with her when she fell. But now the few pieces of moonstone left in the City were sending Leela visions, and laughter, and markings, and revealing secret underground stairs. And the tether had not broken. What if Sera was alive out there somewhere? What if she was trying to communicate to Leela through the moonstone?

She threw back her covers and slipped into a cloudspun dress. She had to speak to Kandra. She had to tell her about the necklace.

“Breakfast, darling?” her orange mother said, stirring a pot on the stove and yawning. The smell of potatoes and rosemary made Leela’s stomach growl, but she had no time for food.

“I’m just going to wash up in the Estuary, Orange Mother,” she lied. “Save some for me. It smells delicious.”

“I make no promises, your green mother is famished,” she said with a wink. Leela forced a laugh and kissed her on the cheek. She left her dwelling and took a less-traveled route that led her past the Aviary and some of the communal gardens on the outskirts of the City.

She didn’t dare believe her own conclusion, not yet. She couldn’t bear it if she was wrong—it would be like losing Sera all over again. But there was something about moonstone that was beyond what she had been taught, beyond what was remembered in Cerulean society.

When she arrived at Sera’s dwelling, she found it silent. There were no murmurs of conversation, no scent of cooking breakfast, nothing to indicate that anyone was living here. The path to the front door felt impossibly long, but suddenly she was peering into Sera’s sitting room, the familiar couch with its blue upholstery, the framed pressed flowers hanging on the walls. It was as if Sera would come running in from her room at any moment, skid to a stop, and admonish Leela for being late.

“Leela?” Sera’s green mother stood in the hall, a silver hairbrush clutched in her hands. It was Sera’s brush, the one Kandra could not bear to touch.

“Hello,” she said. “I was wondering if I might speak to Kandra for a moment.”

Sera’s green mother started, and Leela realized she had never used Kandra’s true name around her before. No one even knew they were friends.

“She left for the birthing houses at dawn,” the green mother said, her grip tightening around the brush.

“Yes, I . . . I heard she was blessed to have another child.” The words felt wrong as she said them.

“She was.” Her smile was painful to look at, stretching across her face in a thin line. “We are so grateful to the High Priestess for choosing our family. Sera would be . . .”

But her voice trailed off. The silence between them grew thick with sadness, until Leela could take it no longer.

“Forgive me for intruding on your morning,” she said, backing out the door and hurrying down the path. She knew where she must go next, but she would have to find some way to get to Kandra unseen. She would be in serious trouble if she was caught—once a birthing season began, the houses were sacred and only midwives and purple mothers were allowed near them. She crossed the Estuary at the Western Bridge, and the Forest of Dawn loomed up over the nearby dwellings, leaves in every shade of green reaching toward the stars. She picked her way through the trees, grateful that her late-night visits had made these woods as familiar as the paths around her own dwelling.

She stopped when she saw the first house, ducking behind an old oak. Since none of the houses had windows, it was impossible to distinguish who was in which one, or which were empty. She could not see the obelisk from this vantage point. She crept from tree to tree, listening to see if maybe she could hear Kandra’s voice. The obelisk came into view, and a ripple ran through the magic in Leela’s veins, like the moonstone remembered her and was calling out in welcome. She caught sight of Plenna, entering a house at the far end of the semicircle, a pile of blankets in her arms, and quickly hid behind another tree.

“Leela?”

She jumped and whirled around. Kandra was standing there with a bucket of water in her hands.

“What are you doing here?” she hissed, moving to join Leela in her hiding spot.

“I had to see you,” she said. “I had to tell you—”

“Tell me what? Oh, Leela, if you are caught here—the High Priestess was visiting only an hour ago!”

“There is something I never told you,” Leela said. “Something I never told anyone.” She paused and took a breath. “Almost a year ago, Sera and I were digging in the banks of the Estuary and I . . . I found a piece of moonstone.”

Kandra gasped. “What?”

“I don’t know where it came from or why it was there. We kept it a secret, me and Sera. We did not want to share it with anyone.” Leela’s face burned with shame.