Her purple mother could not seem to stop the torrent of words, as if they might be the last she would ever say to her daughter.

“I have had some broth and bread,” Leela said. “That is all I feel I can eat. And I must return to the temple by the hour of the owl.”

Her purple mother’s eyes filled with tears. “Of course,” she said.

“I am so sorry.” Leela found she could not look at her. “Purple Mother, you did me such a kindness taking me to the forest and I repaid you with lies and deceit.” This apology, at least, was sincere. “I did not mean to dishonor you, mothers. I only . . .”

But there were no words to explain why she had done what she did.

Her green mother lifted Leela’s chin with a gentle finger. “You think we have not seen the change in you, my darling?” She smiled, and tiny lines crinkled around the corners of her eyes. “You think I did not hear you sneaking out of your bedroom at night?”

Leela felt her stomach swoop, as if she had jumped out of a tree that was taller than expected. “You . . . knew?”

“I knew when Sera would coax you out as well,” her green mother said. “I thought you missed the adventures she used to take you on.”

“I do,” Leela admitted.

“We imagined you would confide in us,” her orange mother said. “When you were ready.”

Her purple mother fixed her with a look of bracing sympathy. “You did not sneak into the birthing houses to see Plenna, did you.”

Leela shook her head. “But please don’t ask me to explain, mothers. Only know that I am so sorry to have shamed you. I never meant to be such a disappointment.”

Her mothers looked at each other, and then they were all hugging Leela again.

“My sweet child,” her green mother murmured. “You could never be a disappointment to us. Never.”

Leela felt some of her guilt ease, the tightness in her chest soften, and she held her mothers close and breathed in their scents, lavender and rosewater and citrus.

“We will still see you,” her orange mother reminded her, “at the temple, and around the City. And you are always welcome here. This will always be your home.”

A tear slid down Leela’s cheek. “Thank you, Orange Mother. Or must I call you Lastra now?”

Her orange mother let out a choked laugh. “You may call me whatever you wish. If the High Priestess can issue four penances at once, if Sera’s sacrifice was not enough to break the tether, then . . . well, it seems as if many things in this City are changing. What you call your mothers is the least of them.”

“Perhaps it is time for change,” her green mother said. “This City has been sedentary for too long.”