along the front were open to the sea breezes. It looked like part of the second level might be a market, where goods were piled up for sale. From the clay jars and bundles stacked in the lower level, it could be for storing or selling cargos. Emilie noticed the place didn't smell like a harbor; it smelled fresh and clean, with no stench of dead fish or tar. They live in the water at least some of the time, so they have a much bigger stake in keeping it clean, she thought.
Yesa was leading them toward a tall archway where a water channel cut through the lower floor of the building. Her boat turned down the channel, passing inside.
At the tiller, Oswin asked Lord Engal, “My Lord, do we follow?”
Lord Engal didn't hesitate. “Go on.”
Kenar said, low-voiced, “It would have been better if they met with us on the docks. But I can see why they want a demonstration of trust.”
“On our part and theirs,” Miss Marlende said.
The launch turned down the channel, passing under the arch and between the high stone walls, the putter of its motor suddenly much louder. The walls were carved with tall figures of merpeople, fighting with some large tentacled creature. Very large, perhaps big enough to wrap around the Sovereign and pull it under. Emilie leaned forward to ask Kenar: “Is that like the creature that Dr. Marlende fought off?”
He turned his head to tell her. “Very similar, but it seemed much bigger at the time.”
Emilie sat back, impressed.
They passed out from under the archway into the open again, the channel leading through a plaza surrounded by towers with balconies. A bridge arched above them, and they passed pillars with water pouring down the sides. Looking up at the bridge, Emilie caught sight of startled iridescent faces looking down at them.
Then they were moving into another building, small but with a vaulted ceiling and an elaborate waterfall grotto to one side. Merpeople were gathered waiting, but they wore more jewelry than the people working in the harbor, polished shells and more silver chains woven through their head fins, and drapes of metallic fabric that caught the light in different colors. There was a short dock extending into the channel and Yesa was guiding her boat toward it.
“I think we're in a palace,” Miss Marlende muttered to Emilie. “It certainly looks like the right spot to meet with a Queen.”
The launch bumped the dock and Yesa's crew moved hurriedly to help the sailors tie it up. Stepping out of the launch down onto a stone surface level with the water was awkward for Emilie, mostly because she had shorter legs than the others. She found herself having to cling to Kenar's arm to manage it without falling. Miss Marlende and Lord Engal were more graceful.
“This way, please,” Yesa said through the shell, leading them toward the grotto. Emilie walked beside Kenar, following Lord Engal and Miss Marlende, with Oswin and the two sailors bringing up the rear. The merpeople were all staring, murmuring to each other, and Emilie felt her face heat. The startled stares from the harbor people and those on the bridge hadn't bothered her; the curiosity had been mutual. But at close range, it was harder to ignore.
As they got closer to the grotto, Emilie saw the rocks had been shaped by the water into formations like giant swaths of lace. The floor they were walking across was set with medallions that looked like mother-of-pearl. At the foot of the grotto, a woman was sitting in a carved stone chair, the water lapping at her feet. She wore a headdress of polished shell and pearl, more pearls draping her body, wound around a dark blue stole shot with metallic streaks.
The Queen, Emilie thought, her heart pumping. It was hard to tell how old she was; unlike Yesa, there was a faint darkening of the smooth skin at the corners of her eyes and mouth. Other merpeople, men and women, sat in the water at her feet or stood behind her.
Yesa said, “This is my lady, Queen Tath-Alare.” She bowed her head.
One of the Queen's attendants lifted another translation shell, holding it up for the Queen. She said, “You are from the upper world.” Her voice was deeper than Yesa's, but still soft.
Lord Engal gave her a formal half-bow. “Yes, Your Majesty. All but our friend Kenar, who is of the Cirathi, and has graciously agreed to guide us through your waters.”
The