Hæra’s blood went cold as an ice floe. Jonathan had what? Had she angered him so much that he’d spoken the unspeakable without Hæra’s permission? “What did he say?” she managed.

“That he never knew he had a daughter until a few years ago,” Madeleine said.

Hæra couldn’t prevent a little exhale of relief.

Madeleine continued, “That you’ve gone through hardships you’ve worked to overcome. And that you’ve taught each other a lot about…how did he put it?”

“How did he put it?” Hæra said.

“About how to be alive,” Madeleine replied quietly.

The words gave Hæra an unpleasant jolt. Had she or hadn’t she just been thinking about giving her life to the sea witch? “What?”

“He didn’t elaborate, but I think I know what he means. I think you do too.”

Now Madeleine’s gaze was shrewd and penetrating, cutting past Hæra’s surfaces, putting her somewhat on the back foot, as Jonathan sometimes said. She’d looked at Madeleine when she’d first arrived at the farm, looked her up and down, voraciously. This was different. Madeleine wasn’t looking, but seeing.

There was a great deal that Hæra wasn’t ready for Madeleine to see.

“There are many ways to be alive,” Madeleine said. “One of them is by being in relationship with other people. In leaving the Daughters of Grace, I gave up the only family I had so I could strike out on my own and discover the truth. Yes, living as a nun is difficult and requires resolve. So does changing your life and starting all over.” She tilted her head to the side, still watching Hæra closely. “You understand what that’s like too, don’t you?”

Apparently she’d recovered from dinner, when Hæra had flustered her. Now she showed no anger or resentment. In those well-remembered eyes, Hæra saw only compassion. She’d never seen such an expression on any Each-uisge, or another human, for that matter. It differed from Jonathan’s kindness; it was more self-possessed and assured.

Was Madeleine right? She thought Hæra’s presence here was a sign of strength. She didn’t know that Hæra had been running away, choosing exile and a demeaning transformation over death. Few would call that courageous, even if it was the hardest thing Hæra had ever done.

It was her turn to see something. She focused her gaze squarely on Madeleine’s face. “Can you truly say you weren’t running away from anything?”

Madeleine pursed her lips and turned away. Ha! In human body language, Hæra had learned, that signaled either fear or guilt.

“I’d prefer to think of it as running toward something,” Madeleine said eventually. She kept her gaze focused on the pasture beyond. “I just don’t know what yet.”

Me.