The Cerulean (The Cerulean Duology #1) - Amy Ewing Page 0,85

she said. “With Sera gone, the City feels like a stranger to me.”

“I am sure it must. But remember that time heals all. There will come a day when the hurt will not be so grave.”

“I cannot seem to understand,” Leela said. “Why was Sera chosen at all?”

Acolyte Klymthe sighed, and it sounded sincere, but Leela could not be certain. She was not used to detecting falsehoods. Cerulean rarely lied.

“Grief breaks us in different ways,” she said. “For some, the need to seek answers can be powerful. But there are no answers to give here. Only the pain of loss and the solace of prayer. But do not fear. Even those Mother Sun deems unworthy of sacrifice are still held in her everlasting embrace. Sera may not have been the right choice, but she will not be forgotten by our Mother.”

Leela’s anger rekindled at the word unworthy, a spark that gave her the nerve she needed. She looked right into Acolyte Klymthe’s eyes and said, “But I thought Mother Sun did not make mistakes.”

A flicker of shock passed across the acolyte’s face, and in that brief moment Leela knew she had not misheard or misunderstood. Whatever secret Leela had stumbled upon, Acolyte Klymthe knew and was part of it.

“She does not,” Acolyte Klymthe said firmly. “But sometimes we cannot see the true shape of her plan at first. All will be revealed in time. Meanwhile, I must tend to the roses in the Moon Gardens. I will tell the High Priestess you called.”

Leela was left with her head spinning and her heart in her throat. There was too much mystery, and she did not know where to begin. She needed help. But she could not share this with Koreen or Daina or even Elorin, kind as she had been earlier. She needed someone older, wiser, someone she was certain she could trust, someone who would believe her.

Inspiration struck in a flash, a meteorite lighting up the dark recesses of her mind. She was shocked she had not thought of it before.

The only person who might believe her was the only person who missed Sera as desperately as Leela did.

Sera’s purple mother.

25

THE FIRST WEDDING TOOK PLACE THE NEXT DAY AT THE hour of the lamb.

Fireflies lit the canopy of trees above as the Cerulean watched Plenna, Heena, and Jaycin circle each other over and over, repeating oaths of fealty. The girls wore wreaths of white roses in their hair, and delicate garlands of baby moonflowers around their necks. Their waists were belted with fire lilies glowing red-gold like the sun. The High Priestess held the three ribbons—orange, purple, and green—on a small white pillow. When the girls stopped circling, she lifted the pillow above her head.

“Mother Sun, bless this union now and forever, so that this triad may live together in harmony until the day they return to your everlasting light. May they find peace in times of discord, comfort in times of sadness, and constancy in the face of chaos; for the union of three souls is sacred and not to be undertaken lightly. This we pray.”

“This we pray,” the Cerulean echoed. Leela only mouthed the words. She kept her eyes fixed on the High Priestess, searching for a suspicious look or gesture, but she was as serene and elegant as ever. If Leela could detect any change at all it was that she seemed a bit tired—there were thin lines around her eyes and mouth.

Plenna tied an orange ribbon around Heena’s neck, then Heena tied a green ribbon around Jaycin’s neck, and finally, Jaycin tied a purple ribbon around Plenna’s neck. Sera had been certain Plenna would be a purple mother, Leela thought sadly. She could almost hear her whispering, Told you so, in her ear.

When the last ribbon was secured, the High Priestess proclaimed, “A new triad is formed! All praise them! Praise Mother Sun!”

“Praise her!” the Cerulean called back. Plenna began to cry, and Jaycin took her in her arms and kissed her while Heena stroked her hair. And then all the Cerulean were laughing and clapping because young love shone brighter than the brightest star—that was what Leela’s green mother always said.

The ceremony was repeated as another triad was wed, then another. Four weddings that lasted until the hour of the owl, when finally it was time for the celebratory feast.

Minstrel flowers sang as tables were brought out and laden with food and drink. Pitchers of crystal-clear water and decanters of sweetnectar were placed among platters