“And how can I be certain that Agnes is truly the woman you say she is?” the Renalt asked.
Agnes had a sudden flash of an idea. “I told you, Braxos holds no magic or fortune. The jewels you see beneath the water are illusions. The only power here belongs to these women, to these Cerulean, and it will fade when they leave. But there is something I can offer you, something you have long coveted.” She steeled herself, wondering how her uncles would react. “I will share the riches of Culinnon with you.”
Matthias gasped and Hektor made a choking sound. Leo was smiling at her grimly, nodding his head.
“The Byrnes have hoarded its wealth for generations,” he said. “We’ll give it back to Pelago.” He jutted out his chin. “Kaolin too. The secrets of Culinnon were never meant for one country alone. They should be shared with this whole planet.”
Sera was beaming at him. “Yes,” she said.
Eneas dabbed at his eyes with the cuff of his shirt and Matthias looked moved to tears. The Renalt stared at Leo for a long moment.
“You really do look just like her,” she said.
“I know,” Leo replied, and for the first time Agnes heard a ring of pride in his voice as he said it.
Agnes turned to Matthias. “You should go with the Renalt, back to Banrissa,” she said. “To ensure the Lekke’s support.”
Matthias gave Agnes a low bow. “As you command.” Then he winked at her. “I’ll see you at the university.” Agnes felt a tingle run through her veins, but then she pushed the thought of the school aside. Now was not the moment to celebrate. Not yet. She turned to Hektor. “We’ll take the clandestines back to Culinnon. There are plans to be made.”
Hektor held her eyes for a moment, then bowed low like his brother had done. “As you command,” he said, echoing Matthias.
Agnes looked at Sera. “What are all these Cerulean doing here?”
Sera smiled wide. “We are here to give back some of what we took. Come with me.”
37
Sera
SERA LED LEO AND AGNES AWAY FROM THE RENALT, WHO was calling upon her Misarros to ready their ships to sail for Banrissa.
Leela came with them and the cluster of Cerulean stared in awe, at Leo especially, as they approached. She noticed her mothers exchange looks of curiosity mixed with delight.
“We have stopped the fighting between the humans,” Sera announced. “Now we must do our duty and return some of our magic to this planet.” She looked at Leo and Agnes, her heart thrumming with joy. “My friends will do the rest once we have gone.”
She was so happy to think that the Arboreals and mertags would be freed from Culinnon, and that they would at last find their true purpose. Not to be sold, like Xavier wanted, or hoarded, like Ambrosine had done. Cerulean magic was meant to be shared. The planet would be replenished.
Sera felt a sharp twinge in her chest—she wished she could be here to see it, to help.
Leela was instructing the Cerulean on how to self blood bond. “Our minds are as powerful as our magic,” she was saying. “Look within yourselves. The fruit has made you strong, the way you should have been all along. Look inside and release some of this power. A gift for what was taken.”
One by one, Cerulean eyes lit up like fires. Daina gasped and Freeda sucked in a hard breath and Koreen made a sound like a giggle and a cough. Sera’s mothers looked fierce, as Sera had never seen them before.
“Now walk the beaches,” Leela said, and Sera knew she was thinking of Wyllin’s memory, of the Cerulean wandering through the forests of Orial. “And give back.”
Faint wisps of magic emanated out from Acolyte Endaria as she took the first steps. Acolyte Imima followed after, then Sera’s mothers, then Koreen, then all the travelers were walking the white sand, leaving the faintest trace of silver trailing out from behind them.
Sera beamed, so proud of her people.
Until she realized someone was missing.
“The High Priestess,” she gasped.
“Where could she have gone?” Leela asked.
Sera’s eyes turned upward to the ruins of the Alcazar. “Wyllin,” she said.
She and Leela left the others on the beach, Agnes, Leo, and Elorin coming with them. Leela was breathing heavily by the time they reached the top of the cliff.
“I never dreamed I’d see a planet,” Elorin said, gazing out over the ocean. “It’s not quite what I thought.”
Sera grinned. “What did you think it would be like?”
Elorin paused. “Smaller,” she said. “And not so green.”
“The city we come from isn’t as green as this,” Agnes said.
“No,” Sera agreed. “And there were dwellings as tall as the temple piled up next to each other, made of all sorts of materials, with hardly any trees.”
Leela wore a curious expression, one that made Sera’s stomach twinge with an inexplicable sense of foreboding. “You have seen so much,” she said.
“I suppose there will be even more to see when we leave this planet,” Sera said, trying to sound brave. She saw Leo flinch out of the corner of her eye but could not bring herself to look at him. She’d have to leave him. Again.
They passed through the doors to the Alcazar and made their way back to the courtyard. And there, by the fountain, was the High Priestess. She and Wyllin stood several feet apart.
“You abandoned me,” Wyllin was saying, though there was no anger in her tone.
The High Priestess crumpled. “Forgive me, Wyllin. I didn’t know how it would work, not really. I was frightened. I thought I was doing what was right.”
“I know,” Wyllin said. Her eyes caught Sera’s and then she pointed. The High Priestess turned to find Leo and Agnes gaping at her.
“Do you see?” Wyllin said. “These humans are devoted to Sera. There is hope after all. Not every planet is Orial. Mistakes can be made and atoned for, but not like this. Not this way. We have lived for so long, you and I. Too long. It is time now. You have carried this burden for years more than you expected. You cling to life the way you cling to power. Aren’t you tired, Elysse? All the fears you had no longer exist. Not all planets are safe, but they are not all as dangerous as you think. And we are killing this one. By staying here, we are draining it dry. It is time to let go.”
“I don’t know how,” the High Priestess said, and she sounded small and pitiful.
“Together,” Wyllin said. “We will let go together.”
Tears filled the High Priestess’s eyes. “I’m frightened.”
Sera did not think she would ever be able to feel sympathy for the High Priestess, but as she looked at her now, she could not help thinking what a sad creature she was, and how lonely she must have been all those centuries. It did not excuse her actions, but it helped to smooth the rough edges of Sera’s grief for her City.
“I know,” Wyllin said, walking forward to clasp her hands. “But balance must be returned. By keeping the secret of the Great Sadness, you deprived the City of its very right to choose its fate for itself. How many travelers and tether-tenders and planet-keepers have been denied their true purpose because they did not know it was an option at all? How many different types of love have you prevented? I know you were only trying to keep them safe. But they are safe. And they deserve to be themselves, whatever that may mean. It is time for the City to move on. It is time for you and me to join Mother Sun in her endless embrace. It is time, Elysse. Can’t you feel it?”