The Cerulean (The Cerulean Duology #1) - Amy Ewing Page 0,103

seemed to say, but she did not know what to do. It fluttered away to land on Faesa’s foot, then took flight and vanished.

But Leela was not watching it any longer. She gazed at the base of the statue of Faesa, reaching out a hand to feel the faintest trace of cold air on her skin. Leela was willing to bet all her worldly possessions that there was a set of stairs beneath this statue.

A pair of green mothers passed close by, talking excitedly with each other, and Leela pulled her hand away and stood.

I will return, she vowed, looking up into Faesa’s wise eyes. And I will find the secret that lies beneath you.

Part Five

Old Port City, Kaolin

29

Agnes

AGNES SPENT THE MORNING AFTER HER FATHER’S SICKENING demonstration carefully forging a letter of permission to the bank.

The fact that Sera’s blood had healing power was beyond incredible. Agnes had already added several paragraphs on it to her essay for the Academy of Sciences. But the way the blood had been taken against her will, the ease with which Xavier had cut Leo’s hand . . . it had all made Agnes sick. Ebenezer Grange had looked disgusted. And the eagerness on the watching men’s faces made it even worse, the greed and the possessiveness, as if Sera was something to be purchased, something to be used.

She finished the letter—her seventh attempt to get her father’s signature perfect—and sat back to admire her work. It was pretty near exact, and it had to be. She needed more money than originally planned. Because she was not going to Pelago alone. She was taking Sera with her. If this tether was really in the ruins, then maybe it could help Sera get back to her city in the sky. It was a start, at least. Agnes could not allow her father to cart the girl around the country, selling off her blood.

The truth was, Agnes had never really had a friend. And though she hadn’t known Sera long, she cared about her, and felt that Sera cared about her, too. They had seen into each other’s minds, into each other’s memories. Sera knew who Agnes truly was and accepted her without hesitation or question.

So she would purchase a berth on Vada’s ship for Sera as well. And for that she would need more than six hundred fifty krogers. Plus, she’d need money for food and lodging and travel to Braxos itself. Two thousand should cover their passage on the schooner. Vada would not be able to refuse such a sum, or so Agnes hoped. She decided to take out three thousand krogers total—it was the most she felt she could withdraw without arousing suspicion. She wasn’t quite sure of the exact figure her trust held, but it was sizable. Three thousand krogers would not make much of a dent.

And privately, she could not deny that she was eager to see Vada again; she could not get those dove-gray eyes out of her mind.

Leo knocked on her door for the third time that day, and she was jolted back to the present.

“Agnes,” he said. “I really need to talk to you.”

She ignored him, carefully folded the letter, and put it in her purse. Then she pinned a Solit brooch to the collar of her blouse, fixed a small golden hat to the bun on the crown of her head, and gave herself a final appraising look. Pious, conservative, professional.

She opened the door and found Leo with his hand poised to knock again.

“I’m going out,” she said, pushing past him.

“I need to talk to you,” he said again, following her down the stairs.

“I don’t have time right now. I’ll be back tonight. We can talk then.”

She couldn’t imagine what Leo would have to say that would be of any importance. Shouldn’t he be happy Father was including him in this scheme? Though she did remember fleetingly the look of horror on his own face throughout the demonstration.

She decided to walk to the bank, so she would not have to concern herself with Swansea calling her a hansom cab. The last thing she needed was for her father to find out.

She made her way through the quiet streets of Upper Glen, and when she finally reached Jevet’s Park, she found herself wishing she’d brought a parasol. September was almost here, but you wouldn’t know it from the weather, which seemed determined to resist any shifting of seasons. The sun beat down on her as she strolled the