The Cerulean (Untitled Duology, #1)(59)

She saw the mother with the purple ribbon clutch at her heart, as if trying to keep it inside her chest.

Then Sera turned and threw herself off the dais.

Agnes screamed, her eyes flying open, and she was back in the bathroom on Creekwater Row. Her heart was beating against her rib cage with enough force to make her vision blur. It took several deep breaths before she was able to form a coherent thought.

“You’re telling me,” she said, panting, “that somewhere . . . up there . . . is that place? That . . . city?” It seemed the wrong word for it—it was so much more beautiful and wondrous than any city Agnes had ever seen or heard of.

“I think so,” Sera said. “But I do not know.”

Agnes was reeling at everything this girl had gone through, the devastating loss she had suffered.

“I’ll help you find this tether,” she vowed, taking Sera’s hands in her own. “I’ll help you get home if I can.” She was suddenly grateful Vada’s ship wasn’t leaving right away. She could not abandon Sera, not now. She had never felt so connected to someone, even though they had only just met.

Sera smiled, and there were tears in her eyes. “You are as kind as Leela, Agnes. And that is the highest compliment I can pay.”

“Who is Leela?”

“My best friend.”

Agnes knew instinctively that she was talking about the girl she’d seen crying at the sacrifice and found she did not mind the comparison.

A knocking on the door made them both jump.

“Are you nearly done in there?” Hattie’s voice seemed too mundane, too normal, breaking the spell that had woven its way into the bathroom.

“Just about!” Agnes called. “Take your robe off and get in the tub, quick,” she said to Sera.

“My orange mother made me this robe,” Sera said, clutching the dirty fabric.

“And I will make sure no one else touches it,” Agnes said. “But we’ve got to get you clean and dressed or my father will be very angry. And trust me, you do not want to incite his ire.”

Sera nodded and slipped off the robe, stepping into the tub.

“It’s warm!” she cried with delight.

“Yes, of course it is,” Agnes said.

And with that, she dunked Sera’s head underwater.





22

Leo

LEO COULD NOT RECALL THE LAST TIME HIS FATHER HAD thrown a party in his own house.

Xavier had insisted the event be black tie. Representatives from Old Port’s wealthiest families were in attendance, men with connections and business interests all over Kaolin. Leo saw George Wilkes of Wilkes Dairy fame, Sebastian Horne of Horne Mills, and Wilbur Grandstreet, whose family owned the shipyard that had built much of the Kaolin naval fleet. A delegate from the Ministry of Agriculture was also in attendance, and Xavier was chatting him up when Robert Conway and his father arrived. Leo welcomed them in the foyer.

“Leo,” Robert said, clapping him on the back and shaking his hand, like he was a politician and not Leo’s best friend. “Quite the do your father’s throwing.” A footman stationed by the door handed him a glass of champagne. “Elizabeth told me all about that tree with the face and that odd sea creature. Are they here tonight?”

He looked around eagerly, as if Leo might be hiding Errol behind a potted plant.

“No, he’s got a different trick up his sleeve,” Leo said. “I think your father will be impressed.”

He wanted to sound jaunty and confident, but his words felt hollow. He didn’t like talking about Sera as if she were some party trick, especially now that he knew her name. Hattie had told him Agnes was getting her ready. His father had asked him to choose a dress for his sister, and Leo had picked out one for Sera too. He wasn’t about to leave anyone in Agnes’s hands when it came to dressing for a party, no matter how odd or magical they might be.

He touched his cheek again—he could not seem to stop doing that, as if waiting for the bruise to reappear.

Robert laughed. He had the laugh of someone who’d never had to worry about a thing all his life. The white tuxedo he wore contrasted smartly with his dark skin, and his neatly trimmed black beard was dotted with crystals.

“He must be quite confident, then.” Robert up looked past Leo and his eyes widened. “My god.”

Leo turned and saw his sister coming down the stairs. The dress he had chosen had been shoved in the back of her closet with a few other fashionable options, ones that must have been gifts, because he could not imagine Agnes choosing them for herself. It was a pale green the color of sea foam, with small puffed sleeves and a scooped neckline. The skirt had layers of tulle underneath, giving it a pleasing bell shape, and the only decoration was around the hem, a floral pattern sewn with copper thread. Hattie had curled her hair and decorated it with copper pins shaped like flowers, tendrils hanging down her back.

“Why, Agnes, you look absolutely stunning,” Robert said, coming over to kiss her hand as she reached the last step.

“Thanks,” she said, tugging on one of the sleeves as if trying to make it longer. The doorbell rang and Swansea went to open it.

Mr. Grange entered the house and descended on Agnes with a sycophantic smile.

“My dear Agnes, how lovely to see you!” he cried. “I cannot believe it was only yesterday that your engagement to my son was made official. I feel as if you are part of the family already.”