The Cerulean (The Cerulean Duology #1) - Amy Ewing Page 0,134
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.”