She drummed her fingernails against the front of her teeth in an unsteady, clicking rhythm. She’d told Hæra that she’d need time to think about what had happened between them. It had been less than twenty-four hours, and it already seemed like that time was up. They needed to speak, and soon. This wasn’t going to be easy.

What else was new?

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

“I don’t suppose you talk, friend?”

The trow blinked up at her.

Small surprise. In all the years Hæra had been dropping off his breakfast, she’d never attempted to engage him in conversation. Unseen creatures weren’t known for being chatty, least of all outside their own species. The trow and Hæra might both be unknown to humans, but that didn’t mean they had much in common otherwise.

In fact, given her species’ proclivity to eat anything meaty that moved, the trow’s current suspicious expression was justified.

“Sorry.” Hæra ran a hand through her hair. “I just wanted to thank you for protecting the farm. I’m not sure how much longer I’m going to be here.”

The trow raised his eyebrows.

“I thought I’d tell Jonathan about where to leave your food. That’s my human friend. You can trust him.” Hæra hesitated. “I won’t tell him about the beer, though, so you might start getting juice instead.”

The trow glared.

“It’s the best I can do.” Hæra’s shoulders slumped. “I ask for your generosity. I’ve put a lot of work into the farm. So has he. I don’t like to think of him losing your blessing when I’m gone.”

Now the trow cocked his head to one side.

“I don’t know when. Perhaps not for a while, but it could happen quickly.” If a human asked the wrong question. If one of her kin saw her. “And I might not be able to say goodbye. I haven’t…” A lump filled her throat, and she swallowed around it. “I haven’t got a place like you have. I’ve only got the sea.”

The trow said nothing. He clearly didn’t intend to. Perhaps he couldn’t talk at all.

“You’ll get your usual tribute until I’m gone,” Hæra said roughly. “When Jonathan shows up instead, you’ll know it’s happened.”

She turned on her heel and marched toward the Gator. When she was about halfway there, she turned, unable to help herself. The trow was gone, returned to his home with the meal she’d left him.

So much for shared understanding and allegiance. She should have known better. They weren’t the same.