The Alcazar

by Amy Ewing

  He moved to look out the window, a large circle covered in gauzy gold curtains. The lights of the market were already tiny as stars in the distance. “We’re moving pretty fast. Wonder how long till we reach Ithilia.”

  “What do you think Agnes and Vada are doing?” Sera asked.

  “They’ll make a plan,” Leo said, and he hoped he sounded surer than he felt. “They’ll figure something out. Agnes wasn’t born with all those brains for nothing.”

  “At least we kept her out of the Triumvirate’s hands,” Sera said. “Being the heir to Culinnon and all.”

  Leo was relieved that he felt no jealousy about that whatsoever. His sister could have all the islands she wanted. He felt like he didn’t know who to trust in this country—as much as Agnes had been longing to meet their grandmother, Eneas’s parting words plus the letter he’d sent Phebe had left Leo with a cold sense of foreboding. Whatever the deal was that had been made and then broken, it seemed Ambrosine wasn’t happy about it. But she was also their best chance at surviving the Triumvirate and getting to Braxos—especially if she was controlling the flow of ships to the Lost Islands.

  Silence wrapped around them and Leo dreaded the moment when Rahel would return. The girl was exhausting. There was a clock on the mantel that ticked loudly and his heart picked up speed with each passing second. There was nothing he could do in this moment, no way to escape and no idea of what would happen when they reached Ithilia. Finally the quiet grew too much to bear.

  “What would you be doing right now?” he asked Sera, the words rushed to cover his increasing panic. “If you had never come here.”

  She seemed relieved by the question, as if she had been fighting against the silence as well. “I would likely be working in the stargem mines,” she said. “That was my next apprenticeship. Though I do not think I would have been any better at that than I was at cloudspinning, or tending the seresheep, or working in the orchards.” She poked at a gelatin mold and watched its thick green body undulate. “There was meant to be a wedding season coming, that’s what Koreen said. I’d never seen a wedding season before. I was so excited.”

  “You have a season for weddings?” Leo asked, leaving the window to take a seat on the couch beside her chair.

  She nodded. “And a birthing season follows after. I was born at the end of the last birthing season, so there has not been a wedding season in my lifetime yet.”

  “Did you . . .” Leo cleared his throat. “Was there someone—well, two someones—who you wanted to marry?”

  “Oh, no,” Sera said, and Leo felt a selfish pang of relief. “No, I . . . Leela had been kissed, but not me.” She twined her fingers together and glanced at the door Rahel had gone through. “I did not think that sort of love was meant for me.”

  “But you do now?” he asked, tensing in anticipation of her response.

  “I know it,” she replied. Leo was certain she could hear his heart pounding through bone and skin and muscle.

  “What happened to change your mind?”

  She turned to him and her eyes were a burst of refreshing blue in the golden room. “I came to this planet,” she said. “And discovered I am attracted to males.”

  She confessed it as if it were the easiest thing in the world, as if she could not hear the bells ringing out inside Leo’s chest. This was not where he’d expected the conversation to go and he wasn’t sure if he’d truly allowed himself to acknowledge his feelings for Sera until this moment.

  “Are you all right?” she asked. “Your face looks . . . strange.”

  “Does it?” His voice sounded unnaturally high. “No, I’m fine, I’m . . .” He searched for a change of subject, but Sera found one for him.

  “Oh,” she said, and her hand flew to her necklace.

  “The moonstone?” Leo asked.

  She nodded. “It just went cold.”

  She took it out from beneath her dress and Leo found his eyes drawn to it. The stone was a white purer than a swan’s wing, shot through with delicate ribbons of color.

  “Is it as smooth as it looks?” he asked. He’d never touched it before, never even dared to ask.

  Sera smiled and held it out in her palm. “Would you like to feel it?”

  Their hands touched as he ran his fingers over it, Sera’s skin igniting a greater thrill in him than any magic stone ever could. The moonstone was like an ice cube that wouldn’t melt—Leo found himself compelled to stroke it over and over again, its smoothness almost compulsive. Sera laughed, a richer, kinder sound than Rahel’s giggles.

  “It’s pretty, isn’t it?” she said. “My friend Leela found it on the banks of—”

  All of a sudden, the moonstone flared up in their hands, so hot Leo wanted to pull away but found that he couldn’t. Sera’s palm began to glow and Leo had the same sensation he’d had when he and Sera had blood bonded and shared memories—a disorienting weightlessness, a feeling of heat zipping through his veins until it finally reached his heart. Sera gasped, and he knew she felt it too but he couldn’t unstick his jaw to ask her what was going on.

  There was a crackling sound, like static through a radio, and Leo’s vision blurred—for a second he saw a different place, almost like an overlay across the opulent room, shadows of another location with columns and paths and clear pools of water.

  “Did you see—” Sera began, and then there was a hard jerk behind his navel and he felt like he was being pulled upward very quickly through a narrow tunnel. He found himself rising through one of the pools, except that it wasn’t filled with water and he no longer had any sense of his body at all. Glowing blue columns loomed all around him and a chain of silver-gold-blue was shooting up through the pool he was in, or maybe down from the cone of moonstone that was protruding from a circle of pure white vines covering the ceiling.

  At the edge of the pool stood a girl with silver skin and blue hair, a few inches shorter than Sera and with a rounder face.

  “Sera?” she whispered, staring at him. And he knew he was seeing through Sera’s eyes, her magic linking them, or maybe it was the moonstone they had been holding—this had to be the City Above the Sky.

  “Leela?” Sera said.

  Tears were tumbling down the girl’s cheeks, even as her face broke into a wide smile.

  “It’s me,” Leela said, and her voice cracked, but there was a clear ring of triumph in it. “It’s me, Sera. I found you.”

  Part Two

  The City Above the Sky

  7

  SERA WAS ALIVE.

  Leela emerged out into the Moon Gardens, still stunned by the vision she’d had below of Sera on a ship, crossing an ocean and gazing up at the stars, such tiny things, mere pinpricks in a blanket of ink black. And not only that, but there were Cerulean trapped in stalactites beneath the City. Leela’s head was so full of questions she wondered how it didn’t simply burst and spill her thoughts all over the moonstone statue of Faesa, who was staring at Leela with her wise, sad eyes. Who were these Cerulean? What had the High Priestess done?

  Without even realizing it, she called on the statue to slide back over the hidden staircase that led down to that mysterious underground garden beneath the City. It was as if the moonstone was reacting to her very instincts and desires.

  Leela looked up at the temple of Mother Sun, wondering where the High Priestess was now. She could still hear the faint swish plop in her ears, the sound of the High Priestess feeding the trapped Cerulean with that odd golden fruit. It was bad enough when Leela had first discovered that it was the High Priestess and not Mother Sun who had chosen Sera to be sacrificed—but after tonight she had no idea how deep her treachery ran. What was she doing with those Cerulean? Why keep them in stalactites?

  The Moon Gardens seemed so alive now after all that stillness below—the snuffling of rodents and the buzz of insects sounded louder than usual. Leela realized she needed to move, she needed to get home before anyone saw her. It was not expressly forbidden for her to be here, but it woul
dn’t do to have anyone asking questions.

  The temple was on an island in the middle of the Great Estuary, in the center of the City, with three bridges connecting it to the mainland. Leela crossed Dendra’s Bridge in a fog, her mind pulled in a hundred different directions. But there was one thought that overpowered all.

  Sera is alive. She repeated it over and over, numb shock giving way to joy as she passed the Aviary, the birds silent in their nests at this late hour. She wove her way through the domed sunglass dwellings until she reached her own home, nestled near the Apiary, and climbed through her bedroom window so as not to wake her mothers. She lay down and gazed at the ceiling, clutching her hands to her chest as tears seeped from her eyes and dripped into her hair.

  “I’m going to find you, Sera,” she whispered to the ceiling. “I’m going to bring you home.”

  How to actually accomplish this, she had no idea. But for now it was enough to know that her friend was alive, that she had not lost her forever.

  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.”

  Leela’s heart somersaulted in her chest. “But I thought the birthing houses were sacred and forbidden by anyone save the High Priestess to enter now that the birthing season has begun.”

  “They are sacred indeed, but it is the duty of other purple mothers who have borne daughters before to provide those blessed to bear a child with nourishment and support,” her purple mother said.

  Leela saw what might be her best opportunity.

  “Might I accompany you there?” she asked in what she hoped was an innocent tone.

  Her green mother’s face lit up, and Leela knew it was because she had not shown interest in much of anything recently.

  “That is not allowed,” her purple mother said. “I’m sorry, darling.”

  “I know,” Leela said, and made a show of looking crestfallen. “I was just hoping to see how Plenna is doing. Now that I have lost Sera”—her tongue tripped over the name—“I was hoping to find solace in my other friends. It would be such a blessing to see Plenna happy.” She sighed, hating the lie but knowing it was her best chance to see Kandra.

  “Come now, Ilianne,” her green mother said, “let her walk with you to the forest at least. Leela would not disturb anyone, nor would she ever threaten the sanctity of the birthing houses.”

  Her purple mother hesitated and a moment passed between her two mothers where Leela felt like they were having a silent conversation.

  “All right,” her purple mother said at last. “I cannot argue with you both. We will not stay long, though. And you will have to wait outside the sacred circle. I shall ask after Plenna for you.”

  Leela’s spirits soared—she could not believe her luck. “I swear I will do as you ask. Oh, thank you, Purple Mother!”

  Her mothers exchanged a pleased glance and Leela knew they were happy to see her returning to her old self, not the raw angry girl she’d been in the days after Sera’s sacrifice. And she was happy they were happy, even as she hated being untruthful to them.

  Though she was not hungry at all, she forced herself to eat some toast with pine nuts and blackberry jam, then changed into a fresh dress and waited while her purple mother poured the stew she’d made into a ceramic bowl, covering it with a length of cheesecloth.

  “Are you ready?” she asked. Leela nodded and kissed her green mother on the cheek.

  “It is so good to see you becoming yourself again,” her green mother said, smoothing back her hair. Leela hid her guilt beneath a smile.

  She and her purple mother took the path that wound its way past the Aviary, birds chirping cheerfully, then followed the line of the Great Estuary, dipping through the orchards and the seresheep meadows before they came to the Western Bridge. It was the same path Leela had taken to meet Kandra for so many nights, when they would sit by the obelisk at the birthing houses in the moonlight and talk of Sera and Estelle or muse over the High Priestess’s motivations.

  Kandra had also known of the High Priestess’s falsity—she had just been tricked into forgetting it. Years ago, she had thought her friend Estelle was dead until she saw her one evening by the obelisk. Frightened, she had run away and confided to the High Priestess, who had placed her hands on Kandra’s head and told her not to worry. After that, the memory of Estelle had faded from Kandra’s mind—until Sera had fallen. The loss of her daughter had broken whatever spell the High Priestess had cast. And so Kandra and Leela would meet in the Forest of Dawn and puzzle over what to do. The High Priestess needed to be stopped, but how?

  The Forest of Dawn was so different in daylight with her purple mother beside her. It made all those other nights feel like something out of a dream. Or perhaps this was the dream. With so many new mysteries, her world felt as upside down as the dying gardens beneath the City that grew from the ceiling.

  They met Olfa, another purple mother, as they entered the forest, an empty basket in her hands.

  “Good morning, Ilianne,” she said to Leela’s purple mother. “My goodness, that smells wonderful.”

  “It is my famous carrot stew,” she replied, beaming.

  “I’m sure the purple mothers will appreciate it,” Olfa said. “I was just bringing another batch of fruit from the orchards, but I must return the basket to Freeda.” She eyed Leela with an expression of polite confusion. “Good morning, Leela.”

  “Good morning, Purple Mother,” Leela said.

  “Leela is hoping to hear news of Plenna,” her purple mother explained. “I told her she may accompany me to the forest but she must wait outside the sacred circle.”

  Olfa looked r
elieved. “Well, I’m sure Plenna will be happy to hear she has a friend who cares so much. I can report that she is most impatient to become pregnant.”

  Leela’s purple mother and Olfa traded knowing smiles.

  “I won’t keep you,” Olfa said, and she waved goodbye and left Leela and her mother to make their way through the forest. The familiar smell of magnolia and crabapple filled Leela’s nose as they walked, bees humming pleasantly in the background. Morning sunlight dappled the ground through leaves of brilliant green.

  They were about thirty feet away from the birthing houses when her purple mother stopped. Leela could not see their small domes through the trees but she could faintly hear voices and occasional laughter. “This is as far as you can go, my love,” her purple mother said, gesturing to the ground. White and blue pebbles were scattered to form a line that stretched out in both directions. Leela had not seen this yesterday when she had come to see Kandra and tell her about the moonstone necklace she had given to Sera and how she had heard Sera’s voice coming from Aila’s statue. Kandra had not wanted her to go beneath the City, thinking it too dangerous. And she had warned Leela to stay away from the birthing houses and not do anything foolish. And now Leela was back again to see her. But she had to. Kandra needed to know.

  “The birthing houses are all filled now,” her purple mother said. “Lyron Sunbringer arrived this morning, and she is the last one. There will not be another Cerulean blessed to have a child until one of the waiting mothers becomes pregnant. Then she will leave the houses to make room for a new purple mother, returning to her own dwelling until her time draws close. She will only come back to these houses to give birth.”

  Leela felt a tug of selfish joy that Kandra would be allowed to leave at some point, followed by a pang of sadness that it would come at the cost of bearing another child so soon after losing Sera.

  But she has not lost Sera, Leela thought fiercely. And I will find a way to tell her that.