The rush of images, of memory, overwhelmed her and made her neck snap back and her breath come out in one giant huff. She couldn’t make sense of them at first, colors and faces and voices that were all foreign to her. A low whisper that felt vaguely sexual. A high-pitched laugh. Eyes the color of fire. A young Cerulean hanging sheets on a branch to dry. The warmth of a green mother’s arms. And then pain, a pain unlike anything Leela had ever known. But it wasn’t physical pain—it was guilt. Sharp, twisting, jagged guilt that made her double over and clutch her chest.

Stop, she thought. This is not what I want.

But what did she want? She tried to think through the pain. The first thing that came to mind was Estelle, trapped in a stalactite.

And the moonstone reacted. Leela felt a hard jerk in her stomach and then she was flying backward, but her feet stayed planted on the ground. Colors blurred her vision and it felt like traveling very fast through a narrow tunnel. For a moment she wondered if this was how Sera had felt when she had fallen.

Then everything stopped abruptly and Leela found herself in a dim room, kneeling over a bed. Estelle was lying on it, her eyes closed, her face slack.

“We must be careful not to take too many at once.” The voice came from beside her and Leela turned to see a slightly younger Acolyte Klymthe.

“We will not need another,” Leela replied, but her voice was not her own—it was the voice of the High Priestess. Some part of her went rigid with shock, but the High Priestess continued smoothly. “Her magic is very strong. I sensed it the day she was born. She will be an excellent addition.”

Acolyte Klymthe frowned. “The City must move at some point, Elysse. We cannot stay here forever.”

Elysse, Leela thought. I never knew her name.

“I know,” she snapped at the acolyte. “But I have told you before—the time has not come yet. This plan was put in place centuries before you were born, Klymthe. Do not presume to tell me when it will end.”

Acolyte Klymthe looked down, ashamed. “Of course. I did not mean to doubt you.”

Leela sighed and reached out a hand with long, slender fingers so unlike her own. Gently, she lifted the acolyte’s face. “I did not mean to snap,” she said. “Please forgive me. You know how this takes a toll on me. And you know how much I appreciate your boundless aid and support. I would never have been able to accomplish all I have done without you.”

Acolyte Klymthe looked relieved. “That means so much to me.”