Seryu’s mother clucked her tongue. “You’re wasting your time looking for an escape. The halls change at my whim, and the palace is impossible for humans to navigate. Nowhere in Ai’long can you hide a pearl as dark and abominable as the one you carry.”

“I wasn’t looking for an escape,” I lied.

The dragon’s golden eyes danced with mirth. “It’s funny. Most mortals would beg to be in your position. During Nahma’s time, humans threw themselves into the ocean for a chance to become our companions.” Solzaya paused deliberately. “I suppose you and Nahma have your resistance in common. Both of you did start out with a death sentence.”

I sent a curious glance at Nahma, but she was silent as ever.

“That isn’t how the story is told on land,” I said. “People didn’t willingly throw themselves into the sea. They were kidnapped. Or sacrificed to appease your kind.”

“Humans have a terrible memory,” replied Solzaya. “To be expected, given your short lives. Consider yourself blessed, Shiori’anma. Other bloodsakes perished before reaching the age of eighteen, but you…you will live forever. Here, with us.”

“You dragons have a deluded sense of what it means to be fortunate,” I muttered.

“Would you prefer to endure a selection rite, as Lady Nahma did? Because that can be arranged.”

“The entire affair is barbaric.”

“Is it so different in your realm? You had an arrangement to be married, did you not? To a young lord in the North, I saw.”

At the mention of Takkan, my heart skipped. “You saw?”

“The mirror of truth showed me plenty about the life you left.” Lady Solzaya leaned close. “Poor Bushi’an Takkan. He misses you so. You can ask to see him yourself—one last time.”

All at once I deflated.

Solzaya chuckled smugly. “I’m curious to see how immortality suits you. Many have gone mad, but I have faith you’ll keep your wits, bloodsake. You have more spirit than most.”

“I don’t plan on being here long enough to satisfy your curiosity,” I retorted, but my words lacked conviction, and Solzaya knew it.

She petted my head again, then she surged forward, her long gossamer sleeves brushing against my arms as if motioning for me to follow. I recoiled from their touch.

Hopelessness rose like a stone in my throat. How was I going to get out of here? Even if my magic was at full strength, it wasn’t enough to put up a fight against the Dragon King. All I had was the pearl….

You can’t use the pearl, Kiki said, invading my thoughts. It might break.

“If it does, at least it’d take all of Ai’long down with me.”

And me! cried my paper bird. Think of me, at least. Scattered in tiny pieces in the ocean forever. I’ll be devoured by shrimp! Or…or become sea foam! I’m not meant to become sea foam.

“No, you’re not,” I agreed, and then grimaced. In a kingdom where time was eternal, how ironic was it that mine was running out?

Someone touched my arm. “Look,” said Lady Nahma, pointing at one of the gemmed mirrors engraved into the wall. “The glass here reflects the sky above. Imurinya smiles upon the seas.”

All I saw was an endless abyss of dark water.

“Her mortal eyes are too weak to perceive it,” said Solzaya snidely.

Nahma wasn’t deterred. “Look closer.” She pointed at a flutter in the waves. “The bend of silver in the waters. That is a reflection of Imurinya.”

“I see it,” I said softly.

“We too revere the lady of the moon in Ai’long,” Nahma replied. “When her light is at its most powerful, so are the dragons’ pearls. It’s a good omen that she is bright on your binding day. I hope that will be of comfort to you.”

It was not, but unlike Solzaya, Nahma meant well. I couldn’t help warming to her.

“You’ll learn to take such sights for granted soon enough,” said Seryu’s mother dismissively. “Once you’re a companion, there will be far more important things on your mind.”

“Such as?” The words came out before I could stop them. Much as I dreaded the binding ceremony, I was curious about how the dragons lived.