Leela wanted to scream, she wanted to hold her mothers in her arms and never let them go, she wanted to cry and confess all. But it was not time, not yet.

She was grateful to know that her mothers were not wholly unaware. Perhaps there were other Cerulean noticing a change in the City.

She gave her mothers one final squeeze, then stepped back. “I must return to the temple.”

Her orange mother nodded. “We are glad you came.”

Leela smiled through her tears. “So am I. And as you said, I am not going far.”

Her green mother pressed a hand to Leela’s cheek. “We have been so proud of you. But there is a strength inside you that, I admit, I did not always see. It shines through your eyes now. I have never been more honored to be your mother.”

“Nor I,” her purple mother said.

“Nor I,” echoed her orange mother.

Leela’s throat was too swollen to speak. She kissed them each on the cheek, then turned and fled back to the temple, more determined than ever to return to the underground gardens, to bring Sera home and heal her City.

11

THE NEXT DAY, AFTER THE NOVICES HAD THEIR MORNING prayers, Leela was given a mop and bucket of soapy water by Acolyte Klymthe and set to cleaning the floors of the temple.

Leela found she did not mind the work—it allowed her mind to wander, to plan. She felt there was nothing to be done other than wait for the novices to fall asleep and sneak out of the dormitory, back to Faesa’s statue. But she wanted to take Elorin with her. The young novice needed to see that place with her own eyes.

Leela’s arms ached from mopping by the time evening prayers arrived. She had intended to stay awake until the hour of the dark to see which novices slept soundly and which might be woken by the slightest noise, but suddenly it was morning and time for more prayers and more cleaning, and Leela had not even remembered falling asleep.

The next day was the same, and the next, and the next. Leela’s arms grew lean and strong, the mop feeling like an extension of her, the swish it made on the floors comforting, the splash of the water in the bucket its own music.

Swish swish plop swish. Swish swish plop swish.

It reminded her of the sound of the High Priestess feeding the trapped Cerulean with the golden fruit. She was just thinking that perhaps tonight would be the night to try to sneak to the Moon Gardens when a group of novices passed her, whispering, and Elorin trailed behind them. She paused for a brief moment, pretending to encourage Leela in her efforts, but then dropped her voice to a low whisper.