“Breakfast, darling?” her orange mother said, stirring a pot on the stove and yawning. The smell of potatoes and rosemary made Leela’s stomach growl, but she had no time for food.
“I’m just going to wash up in the Estuary, Orange Mother,” she lied. “Save some for me. It smells delicious.”
“I make no promises, your green mother is famished,” she said with a wink. Leela forced a laugh and kissed her on the cheek. She left her dwelling and took a less-traveled route that led her past the Aviary and some of the communal gardens on the outskirts of the City.
She didn’t dare believe her own conclusion, not yet. She couldn’t bear it if she was wrong—it would be like losing Sera all over again. But there was something about moonstone that was beyond what she had been taught, beyond what was remembered in Cerulean society.
When she arrived at Sera’s dwelling, she found it silent. There were no murmurs of conversation, no scent of cooking breakfast, nothing to indicate that anyone was living here. The path to the front door felt impossibly long, but suddenly she was peering into Sera’s sitting room, the familiar couch with its blue upholstery, the framed pressed flowers hanging on the walls. It was as if Sera would come running in from her room at any moment, skid to a stop, and admonish Leela for being late.
“Leela?” Sera’s green mother stood in the hall, a silver hairbrush clutched in her hands. It was Sera’s brush, the one Kandra could not bear to touch.
“Hello,” she said. “I was wondering if I might speak to Kandra for a moment.”
Sera’s green mother started, and Leela realized she had never used Kandra’s true name around her before. No one even knew they were friends.
“She left for the birthing houses at dawn,” the green mother said, her grip tightening around the brush.
“Yes, I . . . I heard she was blessed to have another child.” The words felt wrong as she said them.
“She was.” Her smile was painful to look at, stretching across her face in a thin line. “We are so grateful to the High Priestess for choosing our family. Sera would be . . .”
But her voice trailed off. The silence between them grew thick with sadness, until Leela could take it no longer.
“Forgive me for intruding on your morning,” she said, backing out the door and hurrying down the path. She knew where she must go next, but she would have to find some way to get to Kandra unseen. She would be in serious trouble if she was caught—once a birthing season began, the houses were sacred and only midwives and purple mothers were allowed near them. She crossed the Estuary at the Western Bridge, and the Forest of Dawn loomed up over the nearby dwellings, leaves in every shade of green reaching toward the stars. She picked her way through the trees, grateful that her late-night visits had made these woods as familiar as the paths around her own dwelling.
She stopped when she saw the first house, ducking behind an old oak. Since none of the houses had windows, it was impossible to distinguish who was in which one, or which were empty. She could not see the obelisk from this vantage point. She crept from tree to tree, listening to see if maybe she could hear Kandra’s voice. The obelisk came into view, and a ripple ran through the magic in Leela’s veins, like the moonstone remembered her and was calling out in welcome. She caught sight of Plenna, entering a house at the far end of the semicircle, a pile of blankets in her arms, and quickly hid behind another tree.
“Leela?”
She jumped and whirled around. Kandra was standing there with a bucket of water in her hands.
“What are you doing here?” she hissed, moving to join Leela in her hiding spot.
“I had to see you,” she said. “I had to tell you—”
“Tell me what? Oh, Leela, if you are caught here—the High Priestess was visiting only an hour ago!”
“There is something I never told you,” Leela said. “Something I never told anyone.” She paused and took a breath. “Almost a year ago, Sera and I were digging in the banks of the Estuary and I . . . I found a piece of moonstone.”
Kandra gasped. “What?”
“I don’t know where it came from or why it was there. We kept it a secret, me and Sera. We did not want to share it with anyone.” Leela’s face burned with shame.
“There has not been any new moonstone in this City for centuries,” Kandra said, dazed.
“I know. Maybe it was wrong, but Sera and I wanted to keep it as something just between ourselves. We did not think it would hurt anyone. We did not believe moonstone had any special use at all. I made a pendant out of it, set in the many-pointed star. I put it on a necklace and gave it to Sera before she . . .”
Kandra’s eyes lit up with memory. “The gift you needed to give her privately. I remember. The chain about her neck. She never showed it to us, and there were so many other things to . . .”
Leela swallowed. “Yes. But now, I think they are connected—the moonstone and Sera. The vision I had, and the markings on the obelisk, and . . . and I heard Sera’s voice. Through Aila’s statue. She was laughing. Or crying. Or both. I’m not sure. But I know it was Sera.”
Kandra’s face turned mournful. “I know what you wish to believe, but—”
“There is cold air beneath the statue of Faesa,” Leela said fiercely. “And I bet beneath Aila and Dendra as well. I’m going to the Moon Gardens tonight, and I’m going to find out what’s underneath them. They are all connected, I just can’t see how.”
“No, you mustn’t. It is too dangerous.”
“Kandra?” one of the midwives called. “Where are you?”
“I have to go.” Kandra kissed Leela’s forehead. “Please. Don’t do anything foolish.”
Then she stepped out from behind the tree and called back to the midwife, joining the other purple mothers at the birthing houses.
Leela’s heart was pounding. She waited for several long moments before turning to head back home. But Kandra’s pleas had not dampened her determination one bit—she was going to find out what was below that statue, and she was going to find out tonight.
Every minute felt like an hour, every hour like a day.
Dinner was a cheerful affair for her mothers—one purple mother stopped by while they were having their tea and asked so many questions of Leela’s purple mother that Leela had to excuse herself. She couldn’t stand any more questions when she had enough of her own.
At last the house fell silent and Leela slipped out of her window and hurried to the temple. It was dark, the novices exhausted from the Night of Song as Leela knew they would be. She crept through the Moon Gardens until she reached the statue of Faesa, drenched in moonlight. She knelt and felt the cold air emanating from its base. Then she stood and looked the statue in the eye, wondering if more markings would appear. Nothing happened. She stood there, counting her heartbeats and waiting. A butterfly landed in Faesa’s cupped hands, flashing its magenta wings at her twice. Leela reached out and it flew away, her fingers curling around the smooth stone instead.
As soon as her skin touched the moonstone, her magic ignited and another vision swam before her eyes. It was a different room this time, smaller, with a large copper basin in one corner and a desk and chair in another. And there was someone in the room, someone with pale skin, turquoise eyes, and thick black curls. It was a person unlike any she had ever seen, and there was something off about her, besides her coloring, that Leela could not put her finger on. As if echoing up from the bottom of a dark well, she heard Sera’s voice.