left. They skirted around her orange mother’s garden, a plump red tomato hanging ripe and ready to be picked on one of the stalks. Sera had never truly considered how perfect tomatoes were, their rich color, their earthy scent, their juicy flesh. How could such a simple thing suddenly seem so precious?
Then she saw several pairs of curious eyes watching from the dwelling next door and her mood soured.
“I imagine you have many questions for me,” the High Priestess said, turning away from the cluster of dwellings and heading down a lesser-used, hedge-lined path that led to the edge of the City.
“Why me?” Sera blurted out, once the last dwelling had disappeared from view and they were well and truly alone. “Why did Mother Sun choose me?”
“Because she found you worthy,” the High Priestess replied. “I know it may seem frightening and strange now, but you were chosen for a reason. You may not see it in yourself, but she sees all. She knows you, Sera Lighthaven, and she loves you.” She smiled and took one of Sera’s hands—Sera could not help but notice again how hot her skin was. “Do not fear. You will not feel any pain.”
Sera hadn’t actually considered the pain. She had been occupied enough with the fall. A new dread crept into her stomach.
“You are sure there isn’t . . . Perhaps Mother Sun . . . made a mistake,” Sera said hesitantly.
The High Priestess released her and took a step back. “Mother Sun does not make mistakes.” There was an edge to her voice that made Sera feel ashamed for even suggesting it. Koreen probably wouldn’t have questioned Mother Sun’s will, or Treena, or Daina. Why couldn’t Sera be like everybody else?
The High Priestess sighed. “It has been so long since a ceremony, I have forgotten some of my patience. I apologize. You are not the first to question your worthiness as chosen one.”
“I-I’m not?” she stammered.
The High Priestess leaned down so that her face was level with Sera’s, her blue hair partly obscuring her expression. “A Cerulean was chosen to create this tether, too. I would have thought you would have remembered that, what with your avid interest in the past.”
Sera felt uneasy, as if the High Priestess knew more about her than she realized.
“Your green mother could not answer all your questions,” the High Priestess said. “Sometimes she came to me for answers, and I told her what I could. But much has been lost. And some things are not worthy of remembrance.”
A day ago, Sera would have been amazed at the thought of her green mother approaching the High Priestess and asking for information on Sera’s behalf. But now only one thing was on her mind.
“Who was she?” she pressed, leaning forward like she could peer into the High Priestess’s memory. “The one who fell the last time. The Cerulean who created this tether.”
There had been so many, Sera thought with a start. Not just the Cerulean who had made the tether they were using now, but the one who had broken the tether after the Great Sadness, and the one who had created that tether before it was broken. . . . They had seemed only stories yesterday, but today they all felt overwhelmingly real to Sera, Cerulean who had lived and loved and died for their City.
For a moment, the High Priestess’s eyes darkened, the blue of her irises hardening and crystallizing like stargems. Sera thought she felt a chill emanating from the willowy figure before her, but then it was gone, and the High Priestess’s face was as it had been.
“Her name was Wyllin,” she said, straightening and looking away.
Wyllin. Sera turned the name over in her mind. It was comforting to think of another in her position, someone with a name and a life, someone who also might have taken this walk and asked these questions, even if they were nine hundred years apart.
“Was she young, like me?”
“She was. She was twenty-one when she was chosen. She was one of my acolytes.” The High Priestess’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “I was still a very new High Priestess then. The wounds of the Great Sadness were fresh in this City. The journey here had been a long and hard one. Many times I felt hope slip away. Wyllin was the one who first saw this planet. I remember thinking, ‘Mother Sun, she has saved us.’ I did not know how true those words would be. And