Leela sighed and reached out a hand with long, slender fingers so unlike her own. Gently, she lifted the acolyte’s face. “I did not mean to snap,” she said. “Please forgive me. You know how this takes a toll on me. And you know how much I appreciate your boundless aid and support. I would never have been able to accomplish all I have done without you.”
Acolyte Klymthe looked relieved. “That means so much to me.”
Leela felt a warm smile spread across her face at the same time there was a pinch of irritation in her stomach. She wished she did not need Klymthe’s help, that she could do this all on her own. “I will find a place for her this evening,” she said, gazing down at the unconscious Cerulean. “Her magic will feed the tether and keep the City strong. Like all the rest of them. They are saving this City and I know they would agree with me if they were to know the truth.”
“But you fear they would not understand?”
“I know they would not. They were not there, Klymthe, nor were you. If you had seen it, the violence, the carnage . . .” Leela shuddered. “You would do as I have done, I am certain of it. All I have ever wanted is to protect this City. It is my one mission, my only purpose. It requires great sacrifice. But it must be done.”
Acolyte Klymthe bowed.
“Now,” Leela said, straightening. “Let us go and announce to the City that she has died.”
The vision spun and swirled and Leela felt her stomach lurch and for a moment she thought she might be sick. Then everything righted itself and she was beneath the City, among the Sky Gardens. It seemed to Leela that they were not quite as withered as they were now—and the frosted vines were much heavier with fruit.
She was kneeling on the cold ground, pushing at Estelle’s shoulders as her legs slid into an open stalactite. The young Cerulean’s eyes fluttered and for a second, Leela’s heart froze in her chest. But then she stilled and Leela exhaled and pushed the rest of her into the long cone of sunglass. It was filled with a viscous liquid that would help sustain her, suspending her in the sunglass. A fruit fell from the vines and she dropped it into the thick water. Then she passed one hand in a clockwise circle over the opening.
“For devotion,” she said. She passed her other hand counterclockwise. “For wisdom.” Finally, she passed both hands in a long line down the center of the circle. “For love. May your blood protect this City and keep it safe and whole for all time.”
Icy fingers spread across the circle like spiderwebs until the surface was completely covered and Estelle was a mere blur beneath it. Then Leela pressed a palm against it and markings appeared, writing Estelle’s name.
“So I shall never forget,” she murmured. She gazed out over all the circles, each one etched with a name, each Cerulean donating the power of her blood to keeping the tether healthy, to keeping the City alive. She knew every one of them, their vibrancy, their magic. She was doing the right thing, she knew it deep in her bones. Her faith was being tested, but it had been tested before.
Acolyte Klymthe’s words rang in her ears. The City must move at some point.
Yes, Leela thought wearily as she got to her feet. But not for at least another generation. She had time enough yet.
There was a sudden sucking feeling, as if Leela was being pulled up through a drain, and then she was standing in the novices’ dormitory in the friendly light of the afternoon and it was all so completely bewildering that she wasn’t entirely sure who or where she was.
She snatched the circlet off her head and tossed it onto the bed. Her magic thrummed with knowledge, and though it scared her, it comforted her as well. She felt strong.
She threw open the door and Elorin jumped at the sight of her.
“What happened?” she asked. “You look as if you have seen a ghost.”
“I . . .” Leela felt a shiver run through her chest. “I know what the High Priestess is doing with the Cerulean in the stalactites.”
22
LEELA GRABBED ELORIN’S HAND AND PULLED HER INSIDE the dormitory, shutting the door.
“She is using their magic to keep the tether strong and healthy,” Leela said. “She is powering this City with the blood of its own people.” She rubbed at the spot on her head where the moonstone had sat. “The stalactites feed the tether, which feeds the cone of moonstone, which creates the fruit—it’s all connected, a cycle of stolen magic. And the more Cerulean she imprisons, the more magic there is to be stolen.”
Elorin was shaking her head back and forth slowly, as if she could not believe it, but Leela could see in her eyes that she did. Elorin had been to the Sky Gardens, had seen the stalactites, and now the doors had spoken to her. Leela felt a sharp rush of gratitude that she did not have to bear this burden alone.
“And the circlet told you this?” Elorin asked.
“I don’t . . .” Leela was not sure where to begin or how to explain. So instead she held up a finger, glowing brighter blue than it ever had in her life. Elorin’s breath caught in her throat. They had never blood bonded before—indeed, Leela had only ever blood bonded with her mothers and Sera. But Elorin had earned this trust.
Elorin’s face grew solemn as she held out her own finger. They touched and Leela felt the heat of Elorin’s magic fill her as she poured her own into the girl. Elorin’s magic was very much like Elorin, sweet and timid and kind—Leela’s own magic usually felt similar, especially when she had blood bonded with Sera. She had always felt Sera’s blood held the power of command. But now it was Leela’s magic that poured into Elorin with an unfamiliar, writhing strength. Both of them gasped as the memories began to appear.
Instead of reading Elorin’s heart, Leela was showing her the memories from the circlet. As if they were contained inside her and she could hold them up for Elorin to look into, like a mirror that showed the past. It was so much easier than explaining, and also slightly terrifying. How was she able to do this? Was some part of the High Priestess trapped inside Leela as well? She did not much like that thought.
The images—of Acolyte Klymthe, of Estelle, of the Sky Gardens and the stalactites and all the words the High Priestess uttered—replayed in Leela’s mind and projected themselves into Elorin’s. By the time the memory faded and the girls broke their connection, Elorin was breathing heavily, as if she’d just run the length of the City.
“How did you do that?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Leela said.
Elorin stepped back and leaned against the dormitory wall. “I didn’t even know it was possible,” she said. “To keep the tether strong with the blood of Cerulean.”
“I think there are many things she is doing we never thought possible,” Leela said.
“Yes,” Elorin agreed. “The sleeping sickness is a lie, a way for her to steal Cerulean magic. So many have mourned for loved ones who never died. That is an unthinkable cruelty. And yet, the High Priestess seemed to believe all she did was for the good of the City. If she truly wished to help the City, she should have allowed it to move!” Her hands were balled into fists. “But the time has come for the City to move, hasn’t it? She chose Sera to be sacrificed.”
“I know,” Leela said. “But she was not expecting it to go wrong. No wonder she has called for a wedding and a birthing season. The City must be distracted while she figures out what to do next.”