Elorin bit her lower lip. “But you could not get them all down there at once, and it would not surprise me if the High Priestess had some plan in place, some way to discredit or deceive. She erased Kandra’s memory, did she not? And you would not be able to tell everyone at the same time, unless you called the City to the temple, and only the High Priestess can command to have the bells rung.”
Elorin was right. There had to be another way. Leela’s eyes were drawn back to the High Priestess. “I think there may be answers in her circlet, Elorin,” she said.
“Answers that the other moonstone cannot give you?”
Leela nodded.
“But if moonstone is connective, then what do you think the circlet connects to?”
“I don’t know,” Leela said, her frustration returning. “It is just . . . a feeling.”
“Well,” Elorin said. “I am not one to doubt your instincts, Leela. They have not led you astray thus far.”
“I am grateful to have you,” Leela said, squeezing Elorin’s arm. “You are a good friend.”
Elorin beamed. “Come, let us try for one evening to forget our troubles. I think we may be able to sneak some sweetnectar from Novice Loonir if we are very cunning.”
She wiggled her eyebrows, and Leela laughed and allowed herself to be led through the crowd to where Novice Loonir was filling glasses beneath the boughs of a poplar tree.
She had spoken to Sera tonight, after all. Surely that was worthy of celebration. The circlet could wait.
The next afternoon, Leela took a break from cleaning the doors. After the announcement of Plenna’s pregnancy, no one was watching her closely, so she meandered around the Moon Gardens, seeing the statues in a new light after her conversation with Elorin. Perhaps, in days past, Cerulean would gather around them to see visions of their friends or family on the planet. Maybe it was a way for them to know they were safe, so far from home. She touched the statue of Aila, taking comfort in the moonstone’s smoothness. For a moment, she had a glimpse of a room bedecked in pink and gold, and a table laid with all kinds of sweet foods. Then it was gone. Leela felt a surge of triumph.
I am with you, Sera, she thought as she returned to the temple. Perhaps she could try to speak with her again tonight. Would she have to eat the fruit again? She wasn’t sure.
She was searching for a new jar of polish in the closet where the prayer cushions were kept when Elorin burst in.
“You scared me,” Leela said. Then she took in Elorin’s face. Her skin was pale and her eyes so wide Leela could see the whites all around clear blue irises. “What has happened?”
For a moment Elorin seemed too overwhelmed to speak. Her lips trembled and she took a deep, steadying breath.
“The doors,” she whispered. “They spoke to me. I was tasked with washing the acolyte and High Priestess robes. I was carrying a load out to wash in the Estuary and as I passed the doors, the markings on them moved. And I understood them, Leela. I could read what they were saying.”
Leela felt her heart soar. Whatever spell the High Priestess had cast on the City, it was slowly receding, like a veil being lifted. “What did they tell you?”
“The circlet,” Elorin whispered. “Over and over, they spelled out the circlet. And then my feet were carrying me to the dormitory, though that was not where I had intended to go, and then . . . oh, Leela, you must come quickly!”
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.”