Acolyte Klymthe’s words rang in her ears. The City must move at some point.

Yes, Leela thought wearily as she got to her feet. But not for at least another generation. She had time enough yet.

There was a sudden sucking feeling, as if Leela was being pulled up through a drain, and then she was standing in the novices’ dormitory in the friendly light of the afternoon and it was all so completely bewildering that she wasn’t entirely sure who or where she was.

She snatched the circlet off her head and tossed it onto the bed. Her magic thrummed with knowledge, and though it scared her, it comforted her as well. She felt strong.

She threw open the door and Elorin jumped at the sight of her.

“What happened?” she asked. “You look as if you have seen a ghost.”

“I . . .” Leela felt a shiver run through her chest. “I know what the High Priestess is doing with the Cerulean in the stalactites.”

22

LEELA GRABBED ELORIN’S HAND AND PULLED HER INSIDE the dormitory, shutting the door.

“She is using their magic to keep the tether strong and healthy,” Leela said. “She is powering this City with the blood of its own people.” She rubbed at the spot on her head where the moonstone had sat. “The stalactites feed the tether, which feeds the cone of moonstone, which creates the fruit—it’s all connected, a cycle of stolen magic. And the more Cerulean she imprisons, the more magic there is to be stolen.”

Elorin was shaking her head back and forth slowly, as if she could not believe it, but Leela could see in her eyes that she did. Elorin had been to the Sky Gardens, had seen the stalactites, and now the doors had spoken to her. Leela felt a sharp rush of gratitude that she did not have to bear this burden alone.

“And the circlet told you this?” Elorin asked.

“I don’t . . .” Leela was not sure where to begin or how to explain. So instead she held up a finger, glowing brighter blue than it ever had in her life. Elorin’s breath caught in her throat. They had never blood bonded before—indeed, Leela had only ever blood bonded with her mothers and Sera. But Elorin had earned this trust.

Elorin’s face grew solemn as she held out her own finger. They touched and Leela felt the heat of Elorin’s magic fill her as she poured her own into the girl. Elorin’s magic was very much like Elorin, sweet and timid and kind—Leela’s own magic usually felt similar, especially when she had blood bonded with Sera. She had always felt Sera’s blood held the power of command. But now it was Leela’s magic that poured into Elorin with an unfamiliar, writhing strength. Both of them gasped as the memories began to appear.