Before dawn broke the next morning, Jared stood by the lake, watching the dark sapphire water rise and fall under the early wind.

Overhead, the aurora had already faded from its deep blue-violet of the night, returning to a pale, washed-out hue—like an old strip of silk, its richness worn away, drifting silently across the sky.

Gwendolyn stood beside him, dressed for the descent.

The plain white dress was gone. In its place, she wore a fitted ice-blue diving suit that traced the clean lines of her long, lean frame.

Her hair was tied up high, secured with a white jade hairpin, leaving her pale neck and sharp collarbones fully exposed.

In her hand, she held a pearl the size of a fist, glowing with a dim blue light.

The glow wasn’t bright, but it had a sharp, penetrating quality—as if it could shine all the way to the lake’s deepest depths.