The Cerulean (The Cerulean Duology #1) - Amy Ewing Page 0,97

one of any importance, really, just one young Cerulean among a thousand. But I fear this task has fallen to me, and I will find the answers if I can. If you can hear my prayer . . . help me. Please. Show me the way. Give me a sign.

She waited, holding her breath, hoping her prayer had been heard. But the minutes passed until they turned into an hour and nothing happened. She shouldn’t have expected it to. She thought about what Kandra had told her of Estelle, of how she had hoped to speak directly to Mother Sun. It was hubris. Mother Sun spoke to the High Priestess. It made Leela’s head hurt to think of what that might mean. Was Mother Sun aware of the lies?

Just then, a stargem caught her eye. It was all the way on the far edge of the altar, and the color was leaching from it, its facets dissolving and becoming smooth until it looked like . . . a tear. An actual, salty, wet tear. The one beside it shimmered and became clear, then the next, then the next, until all the stargems were changing, paling, and Leela stared at an altar filled with tears.

She reached out a trembling hand to touch them when suddenly Elorin was at her side.

“I thought that was you, Leela! What a joy to see you here.”

Leela started, pulling her hand back, and the stargems were as they had always been, dark blue and glittering. She flexed her fingers, wishing the young novice had left her alone for a just a few seconds longer.

“It is nice to see you too, Elorin,” she said, getting to her feet.

“Oh, I am sorry. I did not mean to interrupt you,” Elorin said, her silver cheeks darkening. “A novice must never interrupt a Cerulean at prayer.”

“It’s all right, do not worry yourself. I was finished anyway.” She glanced at the altar again. Perhaps the tears were just a trick of the light. Maybe she was trying to find signs that did not exist.

When she turned back, Elorin was looking at her strangely.

“I have not seen you here alone before.”

“I wished to feel close to Mother Sun for a while, that is all.”

Elorin turned her gaze to the ceiling. “Do you remember how Sera always said she felt closest to Mother Sun when she was at the top of the temple’s spire?”

“I do,” Leela said. “I am surprised you remember that.”

“I think I was a little jealous of her,” Elorin said shyly. “She did not seem to worry about saying whatever came into her head. She did not care what others thought about her.”

“She did, sometimes,” Leela said. “But never for very long.”

Elorin allowed a small smile at that. “All the girls thought me quite pious and boring. But the truth is, I always knew I would be a novice. I like the temple; it feels like home here. I like sleeping in the dormitory with the other novices, and tending to the Moon Gardens, and singing to Mother Sun in the mornings. And if Sera felt at home at the top of the spire, why should she not climb it? We all have our quirks, I think. Even my mo—even Jandess and Kilia and Reinin.” Elorin stumbled over her mothers’ true names. “Even the High Priestess,” she added quickly, as if to gloss over her almost-mistake.

The skin on Leela’s arms prickled. “Oh?” she said, trying to sound casual. “Does she climb to the top of the spire as well?”

Elorin laughed. “No, nothing like that. But there is a secret place in the temple she will go to when she sequesters herself, and she has been there much recently. Only the acolytes know it. Novice Belladon told me it is impossible to find. It is the place where she can refresh her mind and recommit to her faith.” Her gaze drifted to the altar. “She has led us with such devotion, and for so long. We are very lucky to have her.”

Leela clenched her jaw. But she saw an opportunity in Elorin, perhaps a way to visit parts of the temple she had never been to before. She must try to find this secret place Elorin spoke of.

“Would you show me the dormitory?” Leela asked. “I would very much like to see where you are living now.”

Elorin looked delighted. “Why, of course!” She led Leela outside, taking her around to the back of the temple, to a plain wooden door with