“Don’t tell, Wyllin,” she whispered. “Please. Promise me. I will make this right, I will protect this City with every fiber and spark of magic contained within me. I will never let anything like this happen again, I swear it on Mother Sun and all her Moon Daughters. But please. Do not tell the others of my shame.”

And Wyllin believed her, because she knew Elysse loved the City Above the Sky—had she not forsaken her love on the planet, false as he was, for her devotion to it?

“I promise,” she said.

The scene dissolved again. Time had passed. Elysse looked older, and no longer wore the moonstone ring, but instead bore the circlet, its stone gleaming against her sapphire hair.

“We will have to have a choosing ceremony soon,” she was saying. They were in Wyllin’s kitchen, a pretty room with brightly colored mugs hanging on the wall and a window box of basil giving off a fragrant aroma. Wyllin sat at the table while Elysse paced back and forth.

“But Mother Sun—” Wyllin began.

“She has abandoned us!” Elysse cried. “I told you. I have had no hint, no whisper, no dreams . . . even the doors have stopped speaking to me. We are on our own, Wyllin. We must protect this City ourselves.”

“Why not share your fears with the others?” Wyllin said, as she had said so many times before.

“They would not understand; they are still too frightened, too traumatized . . . I will not hurt them further. They are under my care now. I told you, Wyllin. I told you right after . . .” She cringed, as if she could not bear to recall that horrific day. “It is my duty to protect them. I failed once; I will not fail again. I will do whatever it takes, and if it means I must lie to give them hope, then I will. I will do anything necessary to make this City feel safe. We can never go down onto the planets again. Traveling through space is dangerous, as this journey showed us. They were going to die, the City was beginning to die and it was all my fault, my fault I can’t . . .”

She fell forward, gripping the table as her body trembled, and Wyllin knew she was holding back the tears.

“But the tether cannot survive forever,” Wyllin pointed out.

“It can,” Elysse said, and when she looked up, her eyes had an unnerving glow. “If one Cerulean is willing to make a great sacrifice.”

“Greater than giving up her life?”

“Yes,” Elysse replied. “There is a way. I have seen it in the circlet—it has never been tried before but the idea is there, just waiting to be tested. The chosen one must be brave. She must be braver than any Cerulean in the history of our City.”

Wyllin swallowed. For a long moment, the two women held each other’s gaze.

“What would you have me do?” Wyllin asked.