The Cerulean (The Cerulean Duology #1) - Amy Ewing Page 0,89

My orange mother told me the signs would be written on the doors of the temple. Otess believes they will be large and bold like a sun flare, for all the City to see. I think they will be more subtle than that.”

“It is not known for certain?”

“It was once, I believe. Or perhaps not—perhaps it has always been a private knowledge passed from one High Priestess to the next. Our current High Priestess was chosen only weeks before the Great Sadness took Luille. There is meant to be time to transfer the knowledge and secrets of the most important post in Cerulean society. But one thing is certain—once a new High Priestess is chosen, the old one will surely die. That is the way of it, the nature and cycle of life.” A will-o-wisp floated past and hung above them, casting an eerie blue light on Kandra’s face. “It is not meant to be a violent death, like Luille’s. But death is part of life. Fear of death is fear of living.”

“You seem to have thought long on this matter,” Leela said. She wasn’t quite sure how this all related to Sera, though.

Kandra sighed. “Not me. I had a friend once, curious, like Sera. She was fascinated by our current High Priestess’s long life.”

“Estelle,” Leela said.

Kandra started. “How do you know her name?”

“You said it the other day in the meadow and then again just now.”

“Did I?” She frowned. “I have not thought about her in so long. I have not been able to. . . .” Her hand curved around the dahlia, and for a second Leela thought she would crush it in her fist. “She found it strange that no new High Priestess had been chosen in so many long years.”

“It is because Mother Sun values her very much. That’s what my orange mother said.”

“Ah, but who tells us that?” Kandra said, looking at her gravely. “She does.”

Leela sorted through her words, trying to piece the meaning together. If the High Priestess was in control of choosing her successor . . . “Do you believe that is why Sera was sacrificed? To prevent a new High Priestess from being chosen?”

“I think,” Kandra said carefully, “that it may go deeper than that.”

Leela gasped. “You think Sera was to be the next High Priestess?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps.” When she looked at Leela again, there was a hint of her old warmth in her expression. “She loved you very much. I hope you know that.”

Leela found it hard to swallow. “I loved her, too.”

Kandra cupped Leela’s face in her hands and kissed her forehead. “Thank you,” she whispered. “You have given me a greater gift than you know.”

“What is that?”

“You have given me purpose. And you have shown me that I am not losing my mind, losing myself. No . . . no the memories are real, they are real. . . .” She stood. “You were wise not to share your thoughts with anyone. Meet me by the birthing houses tomorrow after the weddings. I must see . . . I must know, one way or the other. Do not tell anyone, not even your mothers. Can you do that?”

Leela nodded without hesitation. “I will be as silent as the night sky.” Then she paused. “What is at the birthing houses?”

Kandra’s eyes grew distant with some ancient memory. “The High Priestess has many secrets, it would seem,” she said. “And I think I know one of them.”

26

THERE WERE FOUR WEDDINGS THE NEXT DAY, THE LAST one for the City’s oldest unmarried triad, who had found each other late in life.

They sat at the head table, all smiles and clasped hands, as the High Priestess stood, raised a glass of sweetnectar, and declared, “Love at any age is a blessing upon us, but love that has been forged through time and patience is a rare treasure. We look to you three as a beacon of hope in these trying times.”

Leela felt a prickle creep up the back of her neck at those words, a sudden premonition that something was about to happen.

“Caana was gracious enough to allow me to be storyteller for this wedding,” the High Priestess continued. “If you all would permit it.”

“Yes, High Priestess,” the Cerulean called. “Tell us a tale!”

“A tale of love!”

“A tale of courage!”

“I will tell you the story,” the High Priestess said dramatically, “of Wyllin Moonseer and the Forming of this Tether.”

Quiet fell at her words, more complete than the Night Gardens at the