For a moment Elorin seemed too overwhelmed to speak. Her lips trembled and she took a deep, steadying breath.

“The doors,” she whispered. “They spoke to me. I was tasked with washing the acolyte and High Priestess robes. I was carrying a load out to wash in the Estuary and as I passed the doors, the markings on them moved. And I understood them, Leela. I could read what they were saying.”

Leela felt her heart soar. Whatever spell the High Priestess had cast on the City, it was slowly receding, like a veil being lifted. “What did they tell you?”

“The circlet,” Elorin whispered. “Over and over, they spelled out the circlet. And then my feet were carrying me to the dormitory, though that was not where I had intended to go, and then . . . oh, Leela, you must come quickly!”

The two girls walked as fast as they could without attracting the attention of several orange mothers praying in the sanctum. Leela glanced at the doors, but the markings were inscrutable. She was certain her instincts had been right—the doors were meant for all to read, not just the High Priestess. It was a matter of showing the Cerulean not only the lies of the High Priestess but the powers they all should possess that had somehow, someway, been taken from them.

They made their way to the dormitory, down the stairs, and over to Elorin’s bed, where a pile of robes sat. Elorin lifted the top one and Leela gasped.

The High Priestess’s circlet gleamed up at her, the moonstone a creamy confection in its center.

“How is this possible?” Leela said.

“I do not know,” Elorin said. “It was just . . . here. But you said you felt it had answers. Maybe Mother Sun thinks it does too. Though I do not think we have much time. I will keep guard over the door to ensure no novice disturbs you for the next few minutes.”

Leela nodded, then threw her arms around Elorin. Elorin gave her a squeeze and scurried out of the dormitory.

For a moment, Leela simply stared at the circlet. She wasn’t quite sure what to do—the stone seemed so small, so innocuous. Her magic tingled in her veins as if waking up from a deep sleep. Every strand of her hair felt alight with anticipation. Cautiously, she reached out and picked it up.

It was heavier than she had expected, and old, the sungold tarnished in certain places. There were tiny white stargems dotted along the winding strands of gold—she had never noticed them, had never been this close before. The moonstone was a perfect circle, and reminded her of the one in Sera’s necklace except maybe a bit smaller in circumference. She brushed her thumb across its surface, and suddenly, she knew what she must do.

With careful, deliberate movements, Leela lifted the circlet and placed it on her head.