“I thought I believed you,” Kandra said. “I saw this in your memory, but still . . . what is this place?”
“I don’t know, but the High Priestess is killing it,” Leela said. “Those gardens did not used to be so withered.”
They found Estelle’s stalactite—Leela helped her out of the robe, not wanting to leave any evidence behind. They gently slid Estelle back into the viscous liquid that contained her magic. As she slipped beneath the surface, Leela whispered, “We will come back for you. Tell the others if you can. We will free them all.”
Then she sealed up the opening. As she stood, she found Kandra staring at her, and a blue light was burning in the depths of her eyes.
“Leela Starcatcher,” she said. “What a marvel you are.”
24
WHEN SHE AT LAST CRAWLED BENEATH HER COVERS IN the dormitory that night, Leela had a dream.
She was walking in the Night Gardens, past bushes of solemn gray roses and beneath the boughs of nebula trees, their black leaves heavy with clouds. A will-o-the-wisp floated in front of her and hung there, its eerie blue light pulsing like a heartbeat.
“Hello, Leela,” it said, though it had no mouth and the words seemed to come from inside her, from the very depths of her heart. And though she knew it was strange, that will-o-the-wisps did not speak, she was not afraid.
“Hello,” she replied. “What am I doing here?”
“Remembering,” the will-o-the-wisp replied. “This is where it all began.”
Leela saw the dais then, and the ghost of the crowds that had gathered on the day that Sera was sacrificed. Sera herself was in full color, almost more vivid than she had been in reality, her hair starkly blue, the bracelets at her wrist vibrant purple and green and orange. Leela could sense the moonstone pulsing beneath her robe.
“I was lost for so long in the night, searching, searching,” the will-o-the-wisp said. “I could not find my children and I mourned for them. Oh, how I mourned.”
Though none of this actually made sense to Leela, her dream mind seemed to understand it.
“I am sorry,” she said. “That must have been so hard for you.”
“But a bond of love and an act of pure courage lit up my sky like a meteorite,” the will-o-the-wisp said. “Where once there was only blackness, I again saw stars. The sun rose at last and the moon waxed and waned and I heard the bubbling of the Estuary and the singing of laurel doves and I knew I could find my way home again.”
“Home.” Leela nodded in agreement. “How sad for you to have lost yours for so long.” Then she frowned. “Where did you come from?”
She had never known a will-o-the-wisp to have a home or a family, much less children.
“From nowhere and from everywhere,” the will-o-the-wisp replied. “But from love most of all. I come from within you, and within Sera, and each and every Cerulean heart in this City. My love is made tangible in a form you know so very well.”
The star pendant rose up in Leela’s mind, and suddenly she was wearing the necklace she had given Sera, as she never had in true life. She gripped the dream stone in her hand and felt an overwhelming connection to her best friend, as if Sera’s heart was contained within it.
“Do you know where Sera is?” she asked.
“Yes,” the wisp replied. “And she is in grave danger. There are forces at work on the planet that wish to clutch her in their claws and never let her go. You must help her, Leela. You must help her show them.”
“Show who what?” Leela asked. “I am only trying to bring Sera home.”
“Home is not always what we think it is when our journey begins,” the will-o-the-wisp said. “And it can change along the way. Home is ever shifting, because it is not truly a place. It is a feeling.”
Leela wasn’t sure what she meant by that. “But I miss her,” she said.
The will-o-the-wisp glowed brighter. “You will see her again,” it said. “But my children have forgotten who they are and it is time they remembered. It is my fault—I was broken with grief and I let this City drift out of my sight. By the time I recovered, I could not find it.”
“Why not?” Leela asked. She felt as if the will-o-the-wisp should be capable of anything.
“It stopped moving,” the wisp said sadly. “If the City does not move, I cannot see it. And it has been still for so very, very long. There was a dark time when I worried I might never find it again. Little lights winked out one by one and my love was too far away to be made tangible anymore.”
“The moonstone,” Leela whispered, and the dream stone grew hot in her hand. “That’s why it stopped appearing. Because you could not find the City.”
The will-o-the-wisp shuddered in a way that Leela took as a nod. “But it lives in the City still,” the wisp said. “It cannot be destroyed, only hidden.”
Another image came to Leela, an unfamiliar one, of a fountain being torn apart out of fear.
“Why?” Leela asked. “Why would she hide it?”
The wisp did not need to ask who Leela spoke of. “She is consumed with guilt. She thinks she is doing what is right. But it has been too long. She thought she could withstand all those years, thought she could be strong enough to protect the City. But it is not protection. It is desperation. Her time has come to live in my light and love, to let go and allow the change she so desperately fears to happen.”
“How can she live in your light and love after all she has done?” Leela asked.
“She is my child,” the wisp said. “Just as you are. All children make mistakes. It is not for me to reject but to forgive. And her story is not over yet. There is still time for redemption.”
Leela did not quite agree with that, but felt it best not to say anything. The wisp was far older and wiser than her.
“But if she destroyed the fountain, then why not the statues or the obelisk?”
“Even she would not destroy the images of my daughters,” the wisp said. “And the obelisk, too, is sacred. But all other pieces of my love have been locked away. They are yearning to be touched once more, to be owned, to be connected.”
“But I don’t know where they are,” Leela said miserably.
“Ah. That I can help you with.”
The will-o-the-wisp floated toward her, so close Leela felt its heat, and before she could cry out or back away, it floated inside her. And suddenly, she was at the top of the temple spire, at the place where Sera always loved to perch and watch the stars.
“Look inside,” the will-o-the-wisp whispered from within her heart. “See beneath the glitter and the gold. And then make a leap of faith.”
Leela saw a flash of gold-silver-blue that she knew was the tether, then she felt the terrifying sensation of falling, and space was all around her, and the underbelly of the City swam in her vision and she woke up drenched in sweat.
Heal them, the will-o-the-wisp’s voice echoed in her ears. The dormitory was quiet around her, the gentle breathing and light snores of the novices the only sounds.
Leela stayed there, stock-still, replaying the dream in her head. She could not have been asleep for very long—it was still dark outside. She wondered if she should wake Elorin, but some instinct said this moment was for Leela alone. For the second time that night, Leela crept from her bed and out into the Moon Gardens.