then she was chosen.”
An acolyte seemed a much more appropriate choice than a Cerulean who was barely of age, with no special qualities to speak of.
“She thought herself unworthy as well,” the High Priestess continued. “We all doubt ourselves at times, doubt our power, our worth. I have shepherded this City through one of its greatest tragedies, and I often wonder if I have made missteps along the way.”
“You do?” Sera asked, shocked.
“I do,” the High Priestess said kindly. “At heart I am just another Cerulean, like all others in the City. But I trust in Mother Sun above all else. When I am frightened, she gives me comfort. When I am lost, she lights my way. She led us here, gave us this planet, kept us safe for so long. But the Cerulean are not meant to stay in one place forever.”
The hedges surrounding them, covered in thick, glossy leaves, had grown taller as they walked. Suddenly, the High Priestess stopped and raised a hand—one side of the hedge fell away, vanishing to reveal a breathtaking view of the planet below. Sera reached out a hand to touch the invisible barrier that kept her from falling off right this very moment. It was firm yet slightly pliant, like clear gelatin. Below, the many islands of Pelago looked like misshapen insects, crawling on a blue surface.
“You cannot imagine the joy when we first sighted this world,” the High Priestess said. “After so many dark days, so much loss . . . this was our salvation. I confess I will be sad to leave it.”
“Why now?” Sera asked. “After all these years . . . what happened to make the City move again?”
“We have taken enough from this planet. It cannot sustain us anymore.” Her face creased with worry and for a moment she looked old—Sera could sense the ancientness, the many lives that the High Priestess had lived. “Our City needs a new planet to keep us strong. I have faith that Mother Sun will lead us to a better home.”
“I wish I got to see it,” Sera confessed. The High Priestess lifted her chin with one strong finger.
“I know you do,” she said. “It is all you have ever wanted, isn’t it? But you will be safe in Mother Sun’s everlasting embrace. You will be loved for eternity.”
The only embrace Sera wanted was from her own mothers, but she felt it would be impertinent to say that out loud.
“Things will be different for you over the coming days,” the High Priestess continued. “That cannot be helped. But you will be free to live those days however you please. You no longer have to attend evening prayers if you do not wish to. You need not trouble yourself with apprenticeships, nor will you have to help with preparations that will be made for the move, harvesting and canning and such. You can stay in your dwelling all day if you wish, or live like a fish in the Great Estuary. You may even”—she gave Sera a knowing wink—“climb the temple spire and nest up there like a bird. The daily patterns of Cerulean life will not apply to you until the afternoon of the ceremony.”
Sera swallowed. “So I have today and tomorrow and then . . .”
The High Priestess nodded. “The following day will be the ceremony. At the hour of the light. In the Night Gardens. There will be a feast each evening in your honor. Those you will have to attend.” Her face twisted as if she were in pain. “I am terribly sorry. I am not explaining this correctly. There was a time when . . .” She shook her head. “I am sorry.”
Sera never thought she would be in a position where the High Priestess would be apologizing to her.
“It’s all right,” she said, even though it wasn’t, not really. The High Priestess wasn’t the one who would have to throw herself off the edge of the City in three days’ time.
The High Priestess stared into Sera’s eyes in a way that was nearly as intimate as blood bonding. Sera’s stomach squirmed, but she found she could not look away. The moment seemed to stretch for so long, Sera lost track of seconds or minutes or hours.
“You will save us, Sera Lighthaven. Your blood will keep this City strong and vibrant and alive.” The command in the High Priestess’s voice was chilling. It made the hairs on the back of Sera’s neck stand on end. She