The Cerulean (Untitled Duology, #1)(81)

Plenna was the first to be blessed by the High Priestess and sent to the birthing houses. Two more were chosen the following day. So Leela should not have been surprised when she ran into Kandra in the Moon Gardens the next afternoon.

Elorin was chattering to her excitedly—tonight was the Night of Song.

“Novice Cresha says we are to take the route that leads through the Night Gardens,” she was saying. “And to keep close by her side. I’ve been practicing the songs for two days. I hope I do not forget the words. Oh, look, it is Sera’s purple mother!”

Leela turned away from the statue of Aila, where several green mothers were leaving offerings, and saw Kandra walking up to them.

“Good afternoon,” Leela said politely.

“Good afternoon, Purple Mother,” Elorin said, and Kandra could quite not hide her wince. “I have not seen you here outside of daily prayers.”

“The High Priestess has asked to see me,” she replied. Her jaw was set, her eyes flat, and Leela felt a sinking in her stomach.

“Kandra Sunkeeper.” The High Priestess stood in the center of the gardens and beckoned Kandra to her with a warm and loving smile on her face. Leela felt her heart climb into her throat and hide there, pulsing against her neck.

Kandra went to her obediently. “Yes, High Priestess. You called for me.”

“I did. I have wonderful tidings.” The High Priestess placed her hands on Kandra’s shoulders. “You have been blessed by Mother Sun to have another daughter. You may leave for the birthing houses as soon as you are ready. What a joyful day for our City!”

Elorin let out a tiny gasp. Leela could not see Kandra’s face but her own head swam, the trees around her taking on a pale glow, the temple growing fuzzy. How could Kandra bear another child so soon after losing Sera? It was wrong. It was cruel. Kandra was rigid as the High Priestess kissed her forehead and then swept off to return to the temple. Leela watched helplessly as Kandra left the gardens in a daze without a backward glance, her shoulders hunched and her back bent.

“What a blessed day,” Elorin said, but the words sounded forced, more manners than feeling. “She will bear a child again.”

“Yes,” Leela murmured. She could not quite feel her legs underneath her, and her fingers were numb.

“I—I must get back to practicing,” Elorin said. “Excuse me.”

Leela hardly noticed her go. She staggered through the juniper trees until she collapsed in the grass next to the statue of Faesa, landing on her backside with a heavy thump. A dragonfly lighted on her knee, its wings purple and blue and lined with green. Leela felt it was judging her with its beady eyes.

Do something, it seemed to say, but she did not know what to do. It fluttered away to land on Faesa’s foot, then took flight and vanished.

But Leela was not watching it any longer. She gazed at the base of the statue of Faesa, reaching out a hand to feel the faintest trace of cold air on her skin. Leela was willing to bet all her worldly possessions that there was a set of stairs beneath this statue.

A pair of green mothers passed close by, talking excitedly with each other, and Leela pulled her hand away and stood.

I will return, she vowed, looking up into Faesa’s wise eyes. And I will find the secret that lies beneath you.





Part Five

Old Port City, Kaolin





29

Agnes

AGNES SPENT THE MORNING AFTER HER FATHER’S SICKENING demonstration carefully forging a letter of permission to the bank.

The fact that Sera’s blood had healing power was beyond incredible. Agnes had already added several paragraphs on it to her essay for the Academy of Sciences. But the way the blood had been taken against her will, the ease with which Xavier had cut Leo’s hand . . . it had all made Agnes sick. Ebenezer Grange had looked disgusted. And the eagerness on the watching men’s faces made it even worse, the greed and the possessiveness, as if Sera was something to be purchased, something to be used.

She finished the letter—her seventh attempt to get her father’s signature perfect—and sat back to admire her work. It was pretty near exact, and it had to be. She needed more money than originally planned. Because she was not going to Pelago alone. She was taking Sera with her. If this tether was really in the ruins, then maybe it could help Sera get back to her city in the sky. It was a start, at least. Agnes could not allow her father to cart the girl around the country, selling off her blood.

The truth was, Agnes had never really had a friend. And though she hadn’t known Sera long, she cared about her, and felt that Sera cared about her, too. They had seen into each other’s minds, into each other’s memories. Sera knew who Agnes truly was and accepted her without hesitation or question.

So she would purchase a berth on Vada’s ship for Sera as well. And for that she would need more than six hundred fifty krogers. Plus, she’d need money for food and lodging and travel to Braxos itself. Two thousand should cover their passage on the schooner. Vada would not be able to refuse such a sum, or so Agnes hoped. She decided to take out three thousand krogers total—it was the most she felt she could withdraw without arousing suspicion. She wasn’t quite sure of the exact figure her trust held, but it was sizable. Three thousand krogers would not make much of a dent.

And privately, she could not deny that she was eager to see Vada again; she could not get those dove-gray eyes out of her mind.