It was all connected to moonstone, Leela was sure of it. The moonstone obelisk by the birthing houses had revealed markings and moved aside for her like Faesa’s statue did. It had shown her first a vision of a dark room with glowing flowers and a pretty tree with turquoise leaves, then another vision, a smaller room with a person with pale skin, turquoise eyes, and curly black hair. Perhaps it was even the moonstone itself that had saved Sera’s life. Leela exhaled in a gust. Could her gift have been responsible for keeping Sera alive?

Kandra, she thought with determination. She had to tell Sera’s purple mother. Not only had Leela found Kandra’s long-lost friend Estelle among the Cerulean imprisoned beneath the City, but Kandra needed to know that her daughter had not died. Except Kandra was living in the birthing houses now, far away in the Forest of Dawn, along with all the other purple mothers who had been chosen to bear daughters during the newly announced birthing season. How was Leela supposed to speak to her in secret there?

She bit her lip, regretting that she could not seek help from Sera’s other two mothers. But that would require far too much explanation of things Leela did not know or think it safe to reveal. She had no idea for what purpose the High Priestess was using the trapped Cerulean, nor could she actually prove to anyone that Sera was still living, since she seemed to be the only one struck by the visions, the only one with this connection to the moonstone.

She tossed and turned all night, but when dawn’s pale fingers crept in through her window, she was no closer to figuring out what to do next. She needed help. She needed Kandra. Leela fretted over the impossibility of the task before her as she made her way to the kitchen. But of one thing she was certain—she had to go back to the City’s underbelly as soon as she could. It was the only place she’d seen Sera and she felt certain it held the answers to seeing her again—and hopefully the solution to bringing her home.

“Why, you look even more tired today than you did after the Night of Song!” her green mother exclaimed as Leela took her seat at the kitchen table. Her purple mother was stirring a large pot on the stove, the smell of oregano, carrot, and onion filling the room.

“I’m afraid I did not sleep well,” Leela said with a yawn. “Is that all for us, Purple Mother? I do not think I have much of an appetite this morning.”

Her purple mother laughed. “No, I am bringing food to the birthing houses today. The purple mothers there must keep up their strength.”