All the wriggles in her tummy when Leo said certain things, all the lurches in her heart or the weightlessness that would grip her . . . it had all sharpened so clearly to one solid point. Desire. She wanted Leo.
She was so unfamiliar with the rules and signs. She had only ever been attracted to James Roth, the handsome performer from Old Port City. She’d assumed that was how attraction worked, an instant thing that was known straightaway. She had certainly not felt any desire toward Leo when they first met. But she knew him now, had seen him change, and grown closer to him. So it appeared attraction could develop over time. She’d never imagined wanting someone else on this planet. She had been so focused on getting home, on going back to her City.
In the span of one memory, Sera’s whole world had shifted. Because this was no infatuation like with James; she knew it in her bones, in her soul, in everything that made her her. This was something much stronger and far scarier. Tentatively, she allowed her mind to imagine what it might be like, to touch Leo, to press her lips to his, to feel his arms around her, and not just in a friendly embrace. A knot of want clenched in her stomach so intensely it made her body jerk and her toes tingle, yet there was a distinct sense of panic there as well. She felt crushed beneath the weight of the silence in this room with nothing but the thought of Leo surrounding her.
She sat and let her mind replay so many memories, so many days that now meant something different from what they had before. How had she missed it? Now that she knew, it seemed so obvious.
Then a new thought seized her—what if Leo did not feel the same way? She wasn’t human, after all. Why would he be attracted to someone like her? Perhaps he saw her only as a friend. The concept was a twisting ache in her chest.
“You should not be worrying about this,” Sera said aloud to herself. “You are supposed to be focused on going home.”
What did it matter if Leo liked her or not—her City was where she belonged. But she found she could not stop wanting him. Desire overrode logic, it would seem. How frustrating. But wonderful. Yet scary. She wished there were someone she could talk to about this. A Cerulean, not a human, someone who knew her world and could help her understand on her own terms. She wondered again, as she had done when she finally spoke to Leela in the Sky Gardens, if there were others in her City like her, if she was not so wholly alone in this. But even if there were other Cerulean who were attracted to males, they were far away and could not help her here.
What advice would her purple mother give, she wondered. Surely attraction followed the same principles, regardless of the object.
Sera closed her eyes and imagined her mother’s voice in her head.
He would be a fool not to want you back, my darling, she could hear her say. She smiled and clutched the moonstone.
The knock on her door startled her. “Who is it?” she called.
“It’s me,” Leo said, and Sera’s heart leaped like a sun trout jumping for a fly.
“Oh,” she said, standing so quickly she felt dizzy. She opened the door and the sight of him, in a sweater the color of the sea and his curls tied back in a low ponytail, set her mouth watering. What an unexpected reaction. Desire made her all out of sorts.
“I thought maybe we could explore the Arboreal grove together,” Leo said. “I can see it from my room; I don’t think we need Mckenna’s company.”
Sera would be happy to never have Mckenna’s company again—she nodded and said, “Let me put on a cloak.”
She chose a plum-colored velvet from the armoire by the fireplace, her hands shaking as she slipped it on. They walked down the staircase in silence—was Sera imagining it or did Leo keep glancing at her every so often? But perhaps because she was being unusually quiet.
“Your grandmother has a very nice house,” she said.
Leo laughed and the sound sent little shivers over her skin. “I don’t know if house is the word I’d use,” he said. “But it’s certainly impressive.”
They stepped out into the cold air and followed a simple flagstone path that led them to the Arboreal grove. Seeing so many of them together made her heart seize up and tears fill her eyes. Their faces were just like Boris’s, three eyes that formed a triangle and an odd slash for a mouth.
“Incredible,” Leo said, marveling at the blue-green canopy overhead.
They walked deeper into the grove, Sera touching each trunk lightly as she passed, and she felt the Arboreals stir, their leaves rustling, and without consciously thinking it, she called on the seeds of light and love as she had done with Boris. It was so much easier this time, she thought as she held her palms up, her magic slipping through her skin as lightly as a thread through a needle. Leo gaped as tiny glowing seeds with feathery stems floated up and away, filling the grove with their light and melting into the Arboreals’ leaves where they touched them. Sera heard creaking, tree-ish gasps of delight and cries of, “Seeds! Seeds of light and love.”
“What are they saying?” Leo asked. Sera found she could not look at him. It was easier to focus on the Arboreals.
“They call my magic seeds of light and love,” she explained. “And they are full of joy to see them.”
The closest tree turned its ancient eyes toward her.
“Mother,” it said. That was the same thing Boris had said to her, when she’d first heard the Arboreal speak. She didn’t understand it any more now than she had then, and though she knew this tree was not Boris, she could not stop herself from wrapping her arms around its trunk.
“I have known one of you,” she whispered to it, her voice coming out in the wind-like rush of the Arboreal language. “And she saved my life by sacrificing her own. She was the bravest soul I have ever met. I am so sorry.”
Tears spilled down her cheeks and she felt a branch bend to gently brush her hair.
“Ahhh,” the Arboreal whispered. “The eldest of us, the one who was taken. Do not cry, sapling. She was blessed to have known you.”
“Mother,” another Arboreal said, and then another, and another.
“Why do you call me that?” Sera asked.
“You bring us the seeds of light and love,” one Arboreal murmured.
“Seeds of light and love as we once knew,” a second said. “So that we may grow throughout this earth as we were meant to. We have been on this island for so long.”
“You are not meant to be here?” Sera asked.
The first Arboreal’s eyes turned sad. “We are meant to be everywhere. We come from another island, far away in the north.”
“Braxos,” Sera said eagerly. “I am trying to get there. My home is attached to that island.”
“Home,” the first said mournfully, and the others picked up the call.
“Home.”
Sera had forgotten how frustrating speaking with an Arboreal could be. She kept walking, telling Leo what they’d said to her as murmurs of “Home” and “Mother” followed them. Part of her wished she had come alone—she felt a deep connection with this grove, like a natural blood bond, almost as if she truly was their mother, reunited with her children at last. But that was only the fear talking, she thought. Her magic was zipping and prickling, focused on Leo even as she wandered among the trees.
She passed an Arboreal who seemed smaller and younger than the others, and it reached out a branch to touch her shoulder.