“You have to walk through the river,” Sid said. “Are you squeamish? Easily frightened? Maybe you should hold my hand.”

I gave her a flat look and unstrapped my sandals, carrying them as I stepped toward the little river and then, defiantly, without testing it with a tentative toe, stepped right into the luminous sludge.

I nearly fell. As soon as my feet sank into the water—if it was water—cool pleasure traveled up my calves, creeping up under my dress. I heard Sid’s laugh but didn’t see her, because the river was already carrying me forward, though I took no further steps. Its current pulled me, the strong tide flowing around my ankles as thick as velvet.

“Do you like it?” I heard Sid beside me as the river carried us through the darkness. The liquid caressed my feet, tickling my toes. It smelled floral, though not like any flower I knew. “Don’t drink the water,” she said. “Some people do, and wander through the tunnel for days, drunk and giddy and singing.”

I couldn’t see Sid, but my hip brushed her side. I felt a warmth that had nothing to do with the river. I asked, “Have you tasted it?”

“Of course.”

The tunnel slid past. The current grew stronger. Her fingers curled into mine. “I don’t want to get separated,” she said. The river grew loud with its rushing. I nearly lost my footing. I held more tightly on to Sid.

“Here,” she said, and pulled me toward a door whose outline glowed up ahead on the right. She wrenched it open and spilled us into sunshine.

Then I did fall, blinded by the sudden brightness. Sid came down with me, her limbs tangled with mine, the weight of her on me, the hilt of her hidden dagger jabbing into my side. She slid to my side onto the grassy lawn beneath us, one leg still trapped between the sodden skirts of my dress, laughing, lying back on the lawn, her eyes closed against the sunlight but her face tilted up toward it, luxuriating in the light.

My pulse was jumpy, but I couldn’t make myself pull away from her. I hated how easy everything was for her, how she could lie so close to me, her leg between mine, and show no sign that she was even aware of this—or of the people, I now realized, who were picnicking on blankets of vibrantly colored silk, their faces shadowed by lace parasols, crystal glasses of green sparkling liquid raised to their lips. Exquisitely tiny pastries adorned silver platters like jewels. The High Kith murmured, peering at us.

“They’re staring.” The High Kith were out of earshot, but I whispered anyway.