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Wordlessly, I held it out in my hand.

“You are not one of us.” An accusing note slid into his tone as the point of his weapon swung toward me. “How did you obtain this?”

“It was a gift.”

As I gestured toward Ping’er’s body, the guard stiffened. He studied us for a moment, finally jerking his head toward us. “Come with me. Queen Suihe will want to meet you.”

We trailed the guard along the passage that tunneled through the inky depths, the waters merging behind like it was sealing us in—a chill running through me at the thought. The shimmering liquid walls reminded me of the crystal panes in the Fragrant Coral Palace, except here my skin was damp with spray, my pulse racing each time a stray fin or tentacle lashed through the surface. I studied the guard, curious at how the water slid off him instead of soaking his garments. His cloak gleamed brightly, infused with some enchantment. Dragon yarn, the fabled cloth of the Sea Immortals that kept its wearers dry.

At the end of the passageway gleamed a circular door paved with mother-of-pearl and studded with turquoise. Coiled around the frame was an intricate carving of a sea creature. Golden horns curved from its head and bulbous eyes protruded from its face, its spiked tail curling along the ground. As I pushed the door, it held fast, a stinging pain shooting across my palm. I leapt back, smothering a cry.

“Use the pearl,” the guard barked, as though such knowledge were commonplace.

“Does it also control the passage formation?” Shuxiao gestured toward the watery wall that had formed behind us.

He nodded, pressing his ring into the small hole dug in the creature’s pupil. The door swung open, its other side adorned with the same carving. Guards stood by the entrance, uncrossing their spears at the sight of us.

“How does the door open from the other side?” I asked.

“The same way,” he said curtly. “Unless it’s sealed.”

“Why would it be sealed?” Shuxiao asked with a wide smile, one which invited the sharing of confidences.

The guard blinked, a little of his hostility easing. “Upon Queen Suihe’s command, whether in times of peril or when we need to capture an intruder. No one leaves here without Her Majesty’s permission.”

A disconcerting thought. As I glanced ahead, my caution dispersed. Silver flecks dusted the sands, the pathway lined with swaying fronds of emerald seaweed. The seabed was littered with shells in cream, lilac and rose, a few agleam in copper and gold. Some were shaped as fans and stars, others boasting elegant spires atop slender cones—as wondrous as those from the merchant at the Celestial market, all those years ago. A translucent barrier arced above, shielding the city from the sea—and this deep in, the lapping waters were midnight black.

As I stepped through the doorway, a slippery softness clung to my skin like I was walking through a bubble. The air was unexpectedly crisp, and if I closed my eyes, I might imagine I was on the beach instead of hundreds of feet below. Silk lanterns were strung up along the path, casting their luminous glow all around. We walked past rows of honey-colored stone houses with sweeping roofs of lapis and agate, glowing coral springing up between them, as vivid as wildflowers.

The Sea Immortals were pale, their skin a light yellow, perhaps because the sun could not reach this place. Their dark hair was braided and coiled around their heads, both men and women alike, and the eyes that turned to us in curious speculation were ringed in shades of blue. Shimmering cloaks of dragon yarn were draped around their bodies, falling to their ankles like sheets of starlight.

At the center of this glittering jewel of a city rose the Bright Pearl Palace—shaped like a magnificent shell, its conical spires stretching out like the rays of the sun. Pearls of white, rose, and black studded the golden walls, and verdant seaweed towered as tall as trees, their fronds undulating in a graceful rhythm.

The guard led us into the palace, through a long corridor that seemed to curve once around the grounds before opening into a grand hall. Amber pillars climbed from the floor to the ceiling, encircled by strands of jade beads. Exquisite carpets of blue and emerald silk were strewn across the floor, woven with swirling patterns in silver, evoking images of the waves above. The immortals were magnificently attired, their robes shimmering with threads of gold, shining jewels plaited into their hair. They formed two lines that led to the dais at the far end, where a woman sat upon a throne of crimson coral, its delicate branches flaring wide. Queen Suihe, as regal and forbidding as when I had last seen her at Liwei’s banquet.

“Kneel, foreheads to the ground,” the guard ordered brusquely. “Greet Her Majesty before you dare look upon her.”

I tempered a flash of annoyance as I dropped to my knees, performing an obeisance. Prudence was advisable when one was a stranger to the court.

“Rise.” A command, yet the queen’s rich tones cloaked it in an invitation.

This close to the dais, Queen Suihe’s aura rushed over me—formidable and aloof, her power grasped at the ready like a spring coiled taut. Her violet robe pooled by her feet, banded around her waist by a rope of sapphires. An exquisite headdress rested on her black hair, wrought of jade leaves and turquoise flowers, a short fringe of coral beads falling over her brow. Her face possessed the soft curves of an apricot, though devoid of its warm blush.

“It has been a long time since Celestials graced our court. What brings you here, particularly in such … disarray.” Her lips stretched into a smile, jarring against the speculation in her eyes.

I resisted the urge to brush the loose strands from my face, raising my head higher. What was this monarch’s disdain to the Celestial Emperor’s wrath? I would mind my manners as my mother had taught me, but I would not cower.

Before I could speak, my mother stepped forward. Her hair was damp and tangled, her white robe stained, yet she bore herself with as much dignity as the queen. “Your Majesty, we are not from the Celestial Kingdom. I came to bring my friend to her final resting place.”

The queen’s gaze swung to Ping’er’s body. “This grieves me. Her mother is my chief attendant, a loyal servant.” She gestured to a young immortal, who rushed to her side. “Summon the chief attendant.”

She turned back to my mother. “Welcome, Goddess of the Moon. You have traveled far from your home.”

My insides curled, though it was no secret that Ping’er had been my mother’s attendant. It was unlikely the Southern Sea would have learned of the emperor’s attack, yet the fewer who knew of our presence, the safer it would be.

My mother inclined her head. “Thank you, Your Majesty. We are grateful for the kindness of the Southern Sea.”

Queen Suihe smiled warmly. “I congratulate you on your pardon. It was a tale that only recently made its way to our ears, isolated as we are from the rest of the realm.”